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justporo · 7 months

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Senseless

Astarion, Staeve and the others barely survived their last big fight. Staeve can barely take the exhaustion which might or might not be amplified by how his local vampire has been regularly feeding on him. He desperately tries to push through... And Astarion has a few things to say about that.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This will be quite long, so... sorry! But I have a few things to add about this. First of all, I dedicate this piece of writing to the lovely @velnna - creator of the legendary Staeve and incredible artist! (Check him out if you don't know him already, I will say it again) This story is a continuation to "Bloodless". Back during writing that I already imagined Staeve being the Tav in that story (but didn't officially make it so). Back then I was waaay to too scared to tag velnna - but: I recently found out (well, he told me himself- and very kindly), that he indeed found it, read it - and liked it! (I was in shock...) And so I immediately thought that I would have to write an actual Staeve x Astarion piece for him. So here we are! @velnna, thank you so much for your kind words - I will be thinking of this and be motivated by it for a long time! And thank you also for all the amazing art you provide this community with! It's written from the usual second person POV - but it's STAEVE!

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You, male reader) Warnings: none, but major Act 2 spoilers so it will fully remain below the cut Wordcount: 3,5k ~~~

Barely, just barely had you all made it out of this godsdamned mausoleum alive. And after slaying a demon, oh, some other folks too, completing the Gauntlet of Shar, and a trip to the Shadowfell, you felt positively exhausted. And you felt that it was rightfully earned. Especially knowing that you wouldn’t get much rest before you were taking on an even bigger threat.

No rest for the wicked, it seemed – even though you weren’t entirely sure if that meant you or your foes.

You’d been pretty much exhausted even before you had entered the mausoleum and then what lay beneath (and before a certain devil had made it even worse). All because a certain vampire had to be kept fed and happy. Not that you were complaining about it though.

The two of you had your disagreements about it. Especially since you had already ended up in the dirt once because you might’ve been just a tad too eager about offering your neck to the vampire. You had both agreed to take it a bit slower after that - at least with the whole feeding thing.

Although you had still felt like it hadn’t been that much of a deal, the vampire had kept hissing at you to not be so desperate, as he called it. You would have called it: being way too stubborn to accept some godsdamned help.

And that is what had become of you both: two idiots, not really being able to admit to each other how deeply you actually cared for the other. Until just recently.

But even with that - it still meant you were both very much on uncharted territory. And putting feelings into words after such a long time of just trying to suppress them was by far not an easy feat to achieve.

And then, when you had entered the Shadowlands with barely anything alive in it – what else could you have done but to offer yourself up again? Astarion’s survival instincts had kicked in once more and so had your urge to provide – for as long as you were able to be there for him.

On top of that, the moments of tenderness that always followed, holding each other, kissing each other, deeply, – and before a certain night not long ago, often more – had done their fair share of consoling you about just a little blood loss. Barely anything couldn’t be forgotten as long as you were laying in the arms of someone you wanted to just keep holding onto – right?

But as much as you tried to ignore it: you still felt it. Felt how the generous donations to your local vampire tended to make you a little sluggish. Maybe it was even a bit more than just a little. More than once causing you to only make a critical dodge or lift your blade to parry in the last possible moment. Your A game definitely looked different.

But then again: did you want to be responsible for Astarion’s waning strength when it was so easy to just saunter over to him in the evening? Talk to him, get him to throw some of his sultry lines at you, cheesing your way to the same moment almost every night where you deliberately offered the vampire to feed on you. And he always accepted in the end.

It had become a well practised dance between the two of you over the past time spent in these godsforsaken lands. And so it had been in like about you trying to hide the effects all of this had on your constitution

So, when you had come out of the damned crypt – alive, even if only by a hair – your first order had been to lie down. Just right in front of the stone arch. Right in the dirt.

“Gods above and below”, you whispered, letting out a sigh and spreading out all of your limbs.

As soon as you made contact with the ground you knew it would be next to impossible to get up again in the near future. So, you settled for getting cosy with what you got. Which meant wiggling around until you found a somewhat comfortable position where the sword on your back wouldn’t press too much into your back.

“Gods, Staeve, you couldn’t wait ten seconds?”, Shadowheart scoffed and made a big step over one of your stretched out limbs – too stubborn to actually find a way around you. Incredible, how she still had the energy to be sassy after everything that must be weighing on her mind now. But then again, you really couldn’t blame her for deflecting with a generous amount of sarcasm.

“Ten seconds? What difference would that have made, eh?”, you answered her.

You lifted your head up a little. “I’d just be lying over there then”, you continued and weakly pointed down the path a bit.

The cleric just rolled her eyes at you and groaned at you again as the rest of the companions left the dusty old place as well. All of you blood covered and feeling exhaustion down to your bones.

You closed your eyes as you felt the fatigue grab almost complete hold of you. Meanwhile you heard how some of the others settled down around you. Halsin, who’d been lightly injured in the fight, winced as he sat down.

Your eyes flew open at the sound of it and lifting your head up again, you looked at him. But the druid just smiled and waved you off - no big deal, thankfully. So you let your head sink to the ground again, eyes shutting with a sigh. You barely had it in you to stay awake right this moment.

Your limbs felt heavy as lead, and you felt the drag on your eyelids. Meanwhile your pulse was still thrumming in your chest and your ears. A nervous rhythm that threatened to become the only thing baring you from drifting off to blissful and much needed sleep.

You were well aware that this kind of exhaustion wasn’t normal - even with everything you and the others had gone through. It had slowly become more and more - up to where you were now lying in the dirt, not sure if you would make it to camp tonight. Might be you were kind of in a pickle - but best not to dwell on it.

Next time you opened your eyes was when you heard some rustling quite near to you. It was Astarion, kneeling next to you. He was giving you one of his judgemental glances with a raised eyebrow, red eyes piercing as ever.

“Oh, hi love”, you said and grinned, tiredly wiggling your eyebrows at him. The vampire didn’t even acknowledge you - except for his eyebrow rising still a bit higher.

“So”, he drawled, an edge to his voice you couldn’t fully place, “are we getting up or do we have to carry you, love.” He made a little dramatic pause before he sarcastically spat out the last word.

You slapped your hand to your armoured chest with some effort and made a face that hopefully conveyed how hurt you felt by his implied accusation.

Astarion didn’t give a shit about your histrionics.

So you decided for a comeback.

“My friend, you aren’t carrying anyone, anywhere at any time in the near future”, you replied dryly. You heard Karlach snicker somewhere behind you. At least you’d gotten someone’s approval. The vampire gave the tiefling a death glare, then his ruby gaze wandered back to you.

And then it kept lingering on you. Something in the vampire’s eyes had changed and it was beginning to startle you.

And well - usually by now he should have taken up the banter with you again. Could it be, he was actually worried? Like really, actually worried?

“Look”, you said and used some of the little power you had left in your body to push up to a position that was at least somewhat close to sitting up. Immediately you started to feel dizzy.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all. We all are, aren’t we?”, you continued as you desperately tried to not let it be known how much your surroundings were spinning around you at the moment.

Quite obviously you were doing a terrible job at that because there was now open worry on Astarion’s face. Even the usual sharp edge of teasing in his voice had been dulled down by now: “And you want to take on Ketheric Thorm tomorrow? And all his thugs? Like this?”

You were definitely getting a little annoyed at him now. The others had gone dead silent. They must’ve been feeling too that this situation might be about to go sideways. You didn’t care.

And as much as you felt him tug on your heartstrings with the sad round puppy eyes he offered you now - did he have to make it so public? You were just not having it.

Using every last ounce of energy that you still had within you, you made to stand up. Astarion’s eyes widened some more and he cautiously stood up as well. His brows were furrowed now.

You gathered your legs beneath you with quite some effort. The world around you was really rushing past you now, but you were determined to bite through it. Then you pushed up to a standing position - straightening your back for extra effect and pointing a very passive-aggressive finger at your vampire.

“I’ll have you know tha-”, you began in a sassy tone.

But then no one would ever find out what you would have wanted to let them know. Because your vision blackened rapidly, closing in from the edges and you already felt the strange sensation of toppling over. Gravity inevitably pulling you back to the ground you had just stood up from.

The last thing you felt were arms that caught you under the armpits, with quite some effort. You heard strained groans and a hissed “idiot” very close to your ear. Then you passed out completely.

~~~

You woke up in dire confusion about where you were and how you’d gotten there. You lifted up your torso and blinked profusely to try and clear your vision. You also immediately reached for a dagger that would have usually been at your side. But you were also out of your armour it seemed. Oh, and laying on some pillows? A blanket draped over you?

You closed your eyes again and pressed the balls of your hands to your eyes. And you groaned as you felt a headache creep up on you now that you had woken up.

Since there seemed to be no imminent dangers around you sunk back onto the pillows. You realised that your shirt had been taken off as well. Pain thrummed through your skull.

Your hands dropped from your face, your vision cleared more and more and you realised that you were laying in someone else’s tent. And as you took a closer look at the ceiling of the tent, your brows furrowed. Because you very well knew which tent it was you were laying in. You’ve had your fair share of staring up at this very particular fabric from this very particular spot.

Your head popped up again from the pillows. And you found Astarion sitting at your feet, in his camp clothes. Legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest and very much glowering at you. His red eyes were basically boring into you.

“Oh, are we awake again? Back from the land of the dead, hm? Rise and shine then, my love, since you seemed so eager to do so earlier!”, the vampire immediately went into a tirade.

“You’re not even going to give me a few more moments to just really wake up?”, you replied flatly. But you could already feel his words evoking shame within you. You rubbed one of your eyes once more, trying to look innocent.

The vampire kept fuming: “Were you planning on telling me how much the blood loss affected you again?”

“No.”

Astarion obviously could barely believe your audacity as well as your honesty by the way his eyes first widened and then narrowed even more at you. But he kept silent.

“Were you planning on stopping to take my offered blood?”, you posed in return when there was no further reaction coming from Astarion.

You regretted the words as soon as they had left your tongue. Knowing it was a cheap shot because this was still very much you insisting on being the one to take care of his needs. And also hiding the negative side effects.

You immediately felt the twinge of guilt as you saw how Astarion’s eyes couldn’t help but stray from yours as he registered your words. Your headache accordingly sent a bolt of pain through your skull, making you groan.

You closed your eyes in desperation for a second, trying to swallow down the thought that you had just put this guilt onto him. Blaming him for his basic needs of survival even if you hadn’t meant it like that at all.

As you compulsively tried to think of something to say, you heard the vampire speak again: “Well, as much as I enjoy you falling for me. Maybe you could try and… avoid it next time.”

Your throat closed up. Immediately, the double meaning very much wasn’t lost on you.

And not only did you instantly recognise the tone of him deflecting with something harsh and sarcastic but you could also almost see how his old and very much practised mask slipped back in its place.

You felt how the whole situation was slipping from your fingers. Desperate to do something about it, you got up from the still half-lying position you were in and crawled over to where the vampire was now looking at you with trained indifference.

Your chest ached, just having to look at it. Especially since you had only recently made such a leap with him finally allowing you in more. Astarion finally allowing for some of the carefully put up fortress walls to crumble under your soft touch.

Back, when his somewhat cautious confession had made you swear to yourself that you wouldn’t stop until all of the wretched, cascading layers of armour the vampire had put up around his core would have been disassembled.

Now you felt you might be responsible for some of those layers being put back into place. Even if it had just been a very short moment, a dumb slip of the tongue. You hoped it wasn’t too late yet to undo the damage.

You drew your arms around your lover - slowly, cautiously. Posing the question if you were still allowed to do that.

The vampire let it happen.

A tiny fraction of your tension eased at the thought that there might still be hope to rectify the delicate thing you had basically just stepped on. That he would allow you to make it right.

“I’m sorry, Astarion”, you whispered silently. Almost too quiet to form actual words. But the pale elf in your arms heard you anyway. He didn’t look up at you but he did sink into your arms a little more.

“I’m sorry for what I said and for how I acted. I didn’t mean to blame you for anything.”, you said again, this time more confidently.

There was no further acknowledgement of your apology other than the vampire slowly leaning his head against your naked chest. His soft hair brushed lightly over your bare skin. Even the lightest touches of him in your arms sent jolts through your entire body.

But the knot between you was not yet unravelled.

Fear threatened to close up your throat again as your mind raced, feverishly trying to think of a way to make him understand that it was just… he meant everything to you. That you’d rather crawl in the dirt yourself instead of having to watch him do it.

That you so desperately cared about him. Why couldn’t he see that?

And then another thought crossed your mind. Concerning the battle you would have to take on tomorrow.

What if this was the last chance you would ever get to convey this to him? The last shot at convincing him that he was very much loved and cared for and had a place in this world as long as you walked this planet.

Carefully you raised your hand to under Astarion’s chin and nudged softly to see if he would allow you to lift up his head to make him meet your gaze. Again, he let it happen.

The vampire’s eyes found yours. Instantly, something in his gaze changed as he must’ve seen something particular in them. You tenderly and cautiously cupped his cheek as your lips parted. But it still took another moment before you managed to find the words.

“Astarion, if tomorrow… would be the end. I-”, you broke off. Then took another breath before you continued.

“I would hate myself if this is how I left things. I wouldn’t want to have caused you to think that I was just brushing you off for caring for me. Or that I put any blame on you when I was being a reckless idiot. But I still would want you to understand that I just… I’m doing this because I want you to be safe and happy and careless and free and… with me, if you want that.”

Astarion’s eyes ever so slightly widened and opened up as you spoke. A nearly inaudible gasp left his throat.

After you had ended your little speech, the moment of the two of you looking into each other’s eyes just went on. But the mood had changed now. The way Astarion looked at you as you softly let your thumb wander over his cheekbone was no longer distant. He was still allowing you in, if cautiously so.

Your gaze dropped to his lips as your thumb kept wandering over the vampire’s delicate skin.

Then you leaned in just a little - letting him decide if he wanted to bridge the gap between you. And he did so without hesitation.

Astarion met your parted lips with his. You gladly accepted his open-mouthed kiss.

The rest of the words that yet remained unspoken between you were resolved this way. By kissing deeply and assuring the other of what you could not yet put into words.

The vampire’s hand grabbed onto your upper arm, fingertips lightly grazing your biceps. You let your hand wander from his cheek into his soft white curls, your fingertips softly tugging and teasing them.

And you were still doing that when you slowly withdrew from him - if only enough to speak.

“I was a dick, Astarion, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you were. Now, I thought we had just established that. Don’t try and draw it out to make me sappy, Staeve darling, or I might actually take back what I said the other night”, Astarion replied with an edge of sarcasm entering his voice again.

But you knew that it was the good-humoured kind once more. The one he used when you two bickered like an old married couple.

“Don’t promise what you can’t keep”, you offered back with a smug grin. The vampire rolled his eyes at you. Your grin just grew.

“Come, just lie down with me, please”, you proposed to your vampire. Now that adrenaline and stress were slowly leaving your body you felt exhaustion creep up on you again. The headache you had completely forgotten to acknowledge somewhere in between also letting itself be known again.

Astarion immediately took you up on it and you laid down on the bedroll, snuggling up to each other until your limbs were fully tangled, bodies fully wrapped around each other. You gazed upon the vampire in your arms - how much his pale skin contrasted against yours.

You slowly felt how the tension left both your bodies, shoulders dropping, jaws unclenching. Revelling in relief and joy you closed your eyes and focused solely on how it felt to hold Astarion. Just silently laying there, enjoying this moment of peace.

Until you broke the silence once more because a random thought had just crossed your mind.

“Wait, who actually carried me all the way back to camp?”

Astarion scrambled to push himself up once more and gave you a glare. “Really? That’s what’s on your mind right now?”

You shrugged: “I guess.”

The vampire’s glare became even more intense. Then it snapped to mischievous glint really quickly. He let one of his hands drag through his hair dramatically and sensually and said: “Oh, darling, couldn’t you believe that I valiantly carried you here like the knight in shiny armour that I am?” You wouldn’t even have believed him being able to pull you here with your face dragging through the dirt.

“It was Halsin, wasn’t it?”

You received another death glare. Then Astarion just sighed in defeat and wrapped himself in your arms again.

“Yes it was. I was the one who undressed you though.”

“Of course you were”, you replied with a wolfish grin although Astarion couldn’t see it. The vampire groaned in annoyance

“Now, if you please, let me enjoy this moment in peace, you idiot.”

And so you did. Holding onto Astarion as he held onto you. Both silently smiling and not even that afraid anymore of what tomorrow might bring.

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Hands

Plot: Y/n and Joel work to escape the ambush with their lives, sharing an unexpected tender moment after.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.4 spoilers, language, graphic description of injuries, canon-typical violence, death, blood, guns, knives, insinuated a**ault, (16+)

A/N: THERE WAS ONE BED. Sorry, I’ve been waiting five days to say that. Anyway, this one was super fun to write. As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be tagging anyone unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Enjoy, and good luck to all going into tonight’s episode 🙏🏻

——————

June 6th, 2002. Austin Texas.

Summer in Texas brought a brutal heat, but once the sun set, it was bearable to a point of enjoyment.

Y/n’s fingers drummed anxiously against her steering wheel as she drove to the fairgrounds. If she’d been nervous about her first date with Joel, this was worse. If she couldn’t fit in with the family, there was no point in them going any further. The night had to go well.

She pulled into the dirt parking lot, taking a deep breath before switching off her car. Sarah and her had already gotten along when she’d driven her home. And Tommy already felt like an old friend. Everything would be fine…probably.

Tommy, Joel and Sarah waited at the front of the fair, the latter two peeking through the sea of people for one specific person.

“Can’t tell which one of you’s more excited,” Tommy chuckled, looking between his niece and brother.

“I’m excited,” Sarah replied, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look, “Dad’s nervous.”

“I am not nervous,” Joel stated, his fiddling thumbs over his pockets contradicting his words.

Before Tommy could get in a jab, the three of them spotted Y/n’s head bobbing through crowd. Sarah and Tommy waved wildly, Joel tried to keep his restrained.

“The yellow rose of Texas,” Tommy cheered, beating Joel to give her a hug.

Y/n laughed as Tommy spun her around. “Nice to see you too,” she grinned.

Sarah jumped forward, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Hi, Y/n!”

“Hey,” Y/n greeted her, unsure whether or not she was supposed to hug her or if it was too much or-

Her excessive thoughts died in thin air as soon as her and Joel’s eyes met.

He sheepishly walked forward, hoping it didn’t seem like he wasn’t enthusiastic about her being there. He was just so fucking nervous.

“Dad,” Sarah piped up, “Doesn’t Y/n look pretty tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy added, taking Y/n’s hand and twirling her around, “Better make a move before she realizes she can do better.”

Joel nodded along, “Alright, alright,” he took Y/n’s hand, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, all her anxiety suddenly seemed worth it.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Tommy asked, slapping his hands together and pulling Sarah along with him.

Joel and Y/n’s fingers stayed interlocked as they walked in.

“She’s been bouncing off the walls all day,” he admitted, “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

Y/n forced a laugh, “You’re doing wonders for my anxiety…”

Joel laughed, sneaking a kiss to Y/n’s temple while his family’s backs were turned.

The night, however, ended up going better than either one of them expected. Sarah was glued to Y/n’s side all night, barely acknowledging her uncle or Joel. She insisted that Y/n sit with her on all the rides, even grabbing her hand on one of the coasters. Y/n made an effort in between attractions to find out Sarah’s interests, finding common ground in music mostly. Joel’s daughter was witty, smart and a downright joy to simply be around.

Joel watched the whole thing, his heart bursting with affection for them both. Under the glow of the carnival lights, he wasn’t sure what he had been so worried about. He had the two most incredible girls in his life and it was crazy to think they wouldn’t get along.

They’d walked nearly the entire fair before Sarah spotted the ferris wheel. “We haven’t done that one yet,” she said, “Y/n?”

“Well, if your dad’s recovered from the tilt-o-whirl,” Y/n shrugged, smiling smugly at Joel.

Joel pointed a finger at Y/n, “Don’t even mention that death contraption.”

The four of them made their way through the line, zigging and zagging. Somewhere along the way, Sarah drifted behind Joel and Y/n to walk alongside Tommy, forcing the two of them together. They filed up the steps and into the cart, expecting Tommy and Sarah to be right behind them.

“Oh,” Sarah put her hands to her stomach, “I’m not feeling great.”

Tommy grabbed his niece’s shoulders with great concern, “Oh, no. Maybe we should go sit you down.”

Joel, though already barred in his seat, tried to stand up. “Sarah, I-“

“You guys go ahead,” she waved her dad off, “I think I just need some water or something.”

“Well, no,” Y/n said, trying to push the bar up, “We can just-“

The wheel creaked to life and began to lift Y/n and Joel up into the air.

“Well, fuck,” Joel muttered, frantically looking around as if he could somehow stop it in motion, “I wonder if it’s somethin’ she ate.”

Y/n peered down, searching out Tommy and Sarah’s forms. She chuckled when she finally spotted them. “Something tells me she’ll live,” she tapped Joel on the shoulder and pointed downwards.

There, back in line for more greasy carnival food, was Sarah, nearly bouncing beside her uncle as they watched Y/n and Joel.

Joel threw his head back in relief and laughter, blindly seeking out Y/n’s hand.

“Your daughter might just be an evil genius,” Y/n smirked.

“She’s diabolical,” Joel replied, turning to face Y/n with a lovesick grin, “She loves you.”

Y/n folded her other hand over Joel’s, “She’s magic. Just pure sunshine.”

“No, I mean,” Joel sat up straighter, “She’s never taken to anyone like she has you. It’s just been us and Tommy her whole life and the way she’s accepted you is just…”

Neither one needed to say it, they could both feel it. Sarah had taken Y/n in like she’d always been there.

“I’m honored,” Y/n beamed.

Joel felt like he was locked in a tractor beam, Y/n’s eyes drawing him in further and further. The two of them startled when the ferris wheel creaked again and they stopped moving, having reached the top of their climb.

“So,” Y/n started, “Did I pass the Miller family test?”

Joel took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders, dragging her frame closer to him till they were pressed against one another. Y/n interlocked her fingers with his, her stomach nearly in her throat from the closeness.

Joel knew that the next seconds were crucial. If he kissed Y/n, he was signing away his future. There would never be another woman his eyes followed across the room. The room would empty as soon as she walked in. There would never be another first date, sweaty palms and racing heartbeat accompanying. The nerves would morph into different firsts, ones of far more significance. If he gave his heart fully to this woman, it would never again be his.

Joel rubbed a thumb against Y/n’s shoulder and smiled, “Flyin’ colors, Rosebud.”

Y/n was practically glowing, relief radiating out of her. She knew that Sarah was the final puzzle piece to her and Joel, and it had all come together gloriously. There were no more obstacles, there was only them.

Joel’s eyes flickered to Y/n’s lips, the signal that meant something beautiful was about to happen. She held firm, not wanting to move and upset the electricity of the moment. Joel’s head slowly drifted forward, his nose gently sliding against Y/n’s. She couldn’t hide her shaky exhale as their skin finally touched.

Joel allowed a few seconds, for the possibility of her backing out, before letting himself lean in fully and kiss her.

The pure relief that ran through their bodies paralyzed them, their lips pausing as if the commit the feeling to memory. The shock wore off and Y/n pushed her lips deeper against his, seeking out the second kiss. Joel met her, bringing his free hand up to hold her cheek in place. His fingers spread across the side of her face, two brushing against her jawline. It was nearly a lazy kiss, like they knew this was just the first of a million and they could take their time with it.

There, above a sea of noise that faded in their ears, Y/n and Joel felt their uncertainties turn to stone. They were each other’s future.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

The crash could have been worse.

“Ellie?” Y/n panted, reaching blindly behind her.

“I’m okay,” Ellie grabbed hold of Y/n’s arm.

“You’re not hurt, nothin?” Joel asked both of them, his eyes frantically scanning them for injuries.

Ellie shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Y/n confirmed, checking Joel’s face and hands for blood.

Inevitable gunshots began to hit the truck, sending them ducking for cover.

“Belts off,” Joel shouted, “Fast!”

They unbuckled and Ellie crawled out her side of the truck, Y/n and Joel following. Y/n had the good sense to grab her backpack as she slid out. They crouched down behind the truck, Joel reaching back in to grab Y/n and his shotguns.

One of their assailants called out to them, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!”

A lie.

Y/n and Joel loaded their guns in preparation. They could fight, but Ellie couldn’t.

Joel spotted a hiding spot through the wall. “Hey,” he caught Ellie’s attention, “You see that hole? Can you squeeze through?”

A couple warning shots caused them all to flinch, Y/n throwing an arm over Ellie’s body instinctively.

“When I say go, you crawl through that wall,” Joel instructed, “And you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until we say, okay?”

A bullet flew through one of the truck’s windows, the shards of glass raining around them. Y/n was directly under its stream, her adrenaline blocked the feeling of the small cuts.

“And they’re not gonna hit you,” Joel kept going, Ellie was already turning in concern towards Y/n, “Look at me!”

“Ellie,” Y/n urged, “Listen to him.”

Ellie turned to Joel, he drove the promise home. “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Another bullet came too close for comfort.

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel instructed, trying to give her as much information as possible in an attempt to soothe her fears.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, Y/n squeezed her hand for reassurance.

“Okay,” Joel said, looking over to Y/n. The two of them had to be perfectly in sync for the plan to work. Y/n gave a confidant nod and he returned it.

“GO!”

On cue, Ellie began to belly crawl across the floor while Y/n and Joel got to their feet. When one of them took a shot, the other would stay down. They timed their reloads so that someone was always up and firing.

While crouched behind the truck, Y/n glanced over at the hole in the wall, the only thing left visible was Ellie’s leg being pulled through.

“She’s in,” Y/n told Joel, popping up as he went down and firing a shot at one of their attackers.

Joel was making up their escape route on the fly, trying to find a place safe enough to take cover behind. “Come on,” he muttered, leading Y//n behind a large piece of equipment.

Y/n crouched beside Joel, her mind racing with grim possibilites as the crunching of glass came closer. Joel was the better shot, without question, but her fear for Ellie’s life made her much quicker to the trigger. Joel motioned for her to stay down, he would take the shot.

Waiting for their attacker to be in perfect position, Joel rose to his feet and fired a deadly bullet.

Joel exhaled, he’d been holding his breath as they’d lay in waiting. He offered Y/n a hand, which she took, and pulled her to her feet. He went to reload the shotgun, but it had become jammed.

A body burst through the door, barely leaving Joel and Y/n time to react. Joel smacked the butt of his gun into the assailant’s, the almost-fatal shot hitting the ceiling instead. Y/n backed up and took aim, but the man swung around and knocked the shotgun out of her hands. Joel was trying to draw him away from Y/n, but as she went to attack him, she was thrown into Joel and they were backed up against their shelter. They struggled against the man as he tried to shove his gun against their throats.

Even though there were two of them, he quickly overpowered them and pulled them to the floor. He pinned Y/n and Joel down, the rifle big enough to dig into both their throats.

“Now you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers,” he threatened, “What you fuckin’ did, you killed yourself, motherfucker!”

Y/n and Joel began to feel the oxygen drain from their lungs, both of them kicking wildly in a sad attempt to free themselves. The sounds of Y/n’s struggles cut right to Joel’s heart, making him fight harder.

Y/n tried with her remaining strength to push the gun away from them, but without her and Joel at their best, it was fruitless. She gagged, her eyesight was beginning to blur. Their journey couldn’t end here, not like this…

Desperately trying to comfort her in what was assuredly their last moment, Joel’s hand, that was barely brushing Y/n’s, fought to slide a finger over hers. If they were going out, they were going out together.

And then suddenly, the weight lifted from them. Y/n fell onto her side, Joel landing up against her with an arm resting against her convulsing abdomen. They sputtered for air, coughing and hacking as it refilled their chests. Y/n held onto Joel’s arm as she wheezed, gripping him for traction as she tried to draw a true breath.

Joel forced himself up onto his arm, turning around and seeing their salvation came in the form of Ellie and a pistol. He should have known that she wasn’t going to listen…

“No, no, no, no, no,” Joel and Y/n’s attacker cried as Ellie took a step towards him, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore.”

Finally gaining enough oxygen to see straight, Y/n leaned up, coming face to face with Ellie. Her heart broke at the sight of her, so young, having been forced to make an irreversible decision.

“I’m gonna go home,” the guilty promised, “I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” he began to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work.”

Joel’s protective arm remained around Y/n the whole time.

“My mom isn’t far,” the man continued to bargain for his life, “If you could get me to her.”

Y/n tapped Joel’s hand, shrugging his arm off as they got to their knees. Joel looked down at their hands, blood smeared on both their palms. The slow stream was coming from the back of Y/n’s hand, the spray of the truck’s glass window had cut her up good.

“We could trade with you guys,” the man tried to reason with a teary-eyed Ellie, “We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan, I’m Bryan. What’s your name?”

Joel and Y/n helped each other up, steadying one another as they got to their feet. The sound of their assailant speaking, trying to be friendly to Ellie set Y/n off. She took a threatening step toward him, Joel had to hold her back by her hips.

They turned to Ellie, who looked like she was somewhere between relieved and tortured. Joel held out a hand, silently demanding the gun still shaking in her palm. She handed it over without hesitation.

Bryan had begun to weep behind them, as if that made any difference to the people whose lives he’d been ready to steal. Joel turned slowly, stuffing the gun in his jacket pocket and pulling out his own pistol.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bryan sniffled, picking up the knife he would have most likely killed Y/n and Joel with and dropping it at their feet, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.”

Joel bent over to pick it up, turning to Ellie after. “Get behind the wall,” he growled.

“No, no, no, no,” Bryan cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m-“

Ellie looked between him and Y/n, who nodded towards the hole as a back up to Joel’s order. Moving mechanically, Ellie hurried back through the hole to the others side of the building.

Bryan continued to beg for mercy, something Joel had been short on for twenty years. Y/n, usually the more reasonable of the two, stood over the sniffling young man, seething. He’d been ready to kill them like they were nothing. He’d have killed Ellie, or worse, taken her and allowed his friends to commit unspeakable acts to her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

Joel didn’t bother asking Y/n for her opinion as he stalked forward. He ignored Bryan’s pleas, the shrieking cries for his mother. As he brought the knife down on him, Y/n turned away, desiring justice but unable to watch its delivery.

When it was over, Joel looked over to Y/n, who was turned towards the wall. He didn’t have time to feel any guilt over causing further damage to their past selves. He made his way over to her and took her hand into his, examining the bloody cuts.

“Window,” she choked out, pulling away from his touch, “I’ll clean it later.”

Joel nodded, there were no other options. “Ellie,” he called out, “We gotta get in there. We can’t fit through.”

“There’s some stuff against the door,” she replied.

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked.

Y/n and Joel hurried around the back of the laundromat and to the side entrance to the building Ellie was hidden in. They leaned their collective weight against the door, the screech of a desk sliding on the other side. They burst through together, slamming the door shut after.

“Let’s go,” Joel hurried to help Ellie, “Fast.”

The three of them slid the desk back against the door, barricading themselves for the time being. It left them with nothing other than the reality of what happened sinking in on them.

“I’m okay,” Ellie was quick to say, reaching for her pack, “I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.”

“What now?” Ellie asked.

“We go up,” Joel answered, already on the move.

“To get a better look?”

“Hopefully we spot a clear route out,” Joel opened the door that would lead them outside, “Stay close.”

Ellie nodded, “Got it.”

The three of them moved through the back room of the building, daylight greeting them as they found their way outside. Joel led them along the alley, finding cover behind an old car. They could hear the attacker’s calls for Bryan and the subsequent ones of terror when they found his body.

Joel cut across the street, shining his light through the opposite building’s door. Deeming it safe, he gestured for Y/n and Ellie to meet him. They ran through it, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Stairs?” Y/n asked, pulling out her pistol while Joel manned the flashlight.

Joel led them through the dark, the three of them flying up the steps in order to try and seek some vantage point. When they couldn’t find one, they headed back to the first level.

They snaked through holes, doors and carefully across streets, always avoiding whatever noise was just a few blocks over.

Eventually, they landed in a bar with newspapers plastered against the windows. It was the quietest street they’d found yet and safe for the time being. Joel monitored the city through the small chunk of exposed glass as sounds grew closer, watching as trucks and tanks rolled down the street.

Y/n was seated at the table, the first aid kid open and her hand stretched out. There were at least a dozen small shards of glass stuck in her skin, blood slowly trickling around them. It was going to be a bitch getting them out.

“They’re not FEDRA,” Ellie recounted the discussion they’d just had, “They’re not Fireflies. Who are they?”

“People,” Joel answered as he continued to watch.

“Are we okay in here?”

“Yeah, for now, but we gotta keep-“ Y/n’s gasp interrupted her sentence as she poured rubbing alcohol across the back of her hand. “We gotta keep moving,” she strained.

Joel’s attention was drawn away by Y/n’s cry of pain, but he made sure to look back through the window one more time. “Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be comin’ through these places soon enough.”

“So we zig when they zag,” Y/n stated, sanitizing her pair of tweezers.

Joel got up and Ellie took his spot at the window, he moved towards the table.

“There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” Ellie reported.

“Yeah, saw it,” Joel replied.

“So that’s the one?” Ellie asked.

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck,” Joel said, “We move. Fast as we can.”

Joel came to sit across from Y/n, watching as she carefully began to pull pieces of glass from her skin. She was trying her best to hold back tears, her lip trembling as she bit down on it. His fingers practically twitched to help her, telling himself to hold back as much as he could.

Y/n’s hand began to shake as she reached for another shard, whimpering when she accidentally nudged it deeper into the cut.

“Here,” Joel offered, though it was more an order. He held out a hand for the tweezers.

“I’ve got it,” Y/n mumbled wetly, speaking past the lump in her throat.

“I know you do,” Joel replied softly, the softest tone he’d taken with her in twenty years. He looped his fingers through the vice-like grip she had on her tool, gently pulling it down to the table. “Here.”

Y/n was in too much pain to fight, and she knew Joel would get it done quick. She allowed him to take her injured hand into his, the sensation of his touch against her palm sending a jolt through them both.

Joel worked with precision, carefully pulling each shard out of each cut. Y/n would let out a small whine every once in a while, but he didn’t stop to look at her. The faster he moved, the faster her pain would end.

Y/n tried to focus on anything, anything other than the pain. That thing ended up being Joel’s hands. The rough callouses against her wrist, the occasional brush of his knuckle as he worked, the length of his fingers in comparison to hers. In the heat of misery, she couldn’t see what a dangerous place her mind was in. All she could see was Joel.

Once he was done, Joel collected the bloody shards in a piece of gauze and stuck them in the first aid kit. They couldn’t leave any trail. Y/n reached into the box and pulled out a bandage roll. Joel placed a large gauze pad over the back of her hand and unrolled the spool. He pulled Y/n’s hand closer to him across the table, lifting it up as he wrapped it in the material. He handled her with all the delicacy he could muster.

Y/n watched him wrap her hand, thinking of the last time he’d been this soft with her. For as rough around the edges as Joel had always been, there was a tenderness that had only ever been reserved for her and Sarah. To feel it again was to travel twenty years into the past, to feel their fingers intertwine as they laid in bed or walked down the street…

She almost forgot about her anger, just for a moment.

Joel secured the bandage and gently set her hand back on the table. They peered up at one another, the cautious look in their eyes saying more than their lips ever could.

“Thank you,” Y/n muttered.

Joel simply nodded, retracting his hands back into his sides. Reintroducing the feel of Y/n’s skin was dangerous, muscle memory was sure to seek out and seek more and more of it. He balled up his fists and set them in his lap.

Settled, Y/n glanced over at Ellie, who was seated against the wall with her knees to her chest. With a minute of calm on their side, they were all trying to deal with what had happened after the crash.

“Are you guys okay?” Ellie asked.

Y/n held up her bandaged hand, one side of her mouth twitching upwards.

“I’m all right,” Joel answered, looking anywhere but at Ellie as he struggled, “Are you…all right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie mumbled quickly.

Joel fiddled with his hand, there was a duality to him he didn’t know how to properly function out of. Twenty years of burying your feelings could leave you severely impaired by the time you needed to access them again.

“Thing is, I didn’t hear that guy comin’,” he sighed.

“Neither of us did,” Y/n looked up, her and Joel’s eyes meeting again in mutual guilt.

Joel turned back to Ellie, “You shouldn’t have had to…you know.”

“Well, you’re glad I did, right?” Ellie asked, needing reassurance that she’d done the right thing.

Good and bad were so muddled, post-pandemic. Y/n was glad she’d kept her life, but it came at the expense of another piece of Ellie’s innocence. What was she supposed to say?

“Thing is, you’re just a kid,” Joel said for the both of them, “You shouldn’t know what it means to…” he diverted his eyes, desperately searching for the magic words to make her feel any better, “It’s not like you killed him. But shootin’ or…” he sighed, “I know what it’s like, first time that you, uh, hurt someone like that.”

Y/n stayed quiet, unable to watch Joel’s painful attempt. She knew the moment he was referring to, and it hadn’t been the dick in the bar all those years ago.

“If you, uh,” Joel tried, stuttering on consonants after, “I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah,” Ellie numbly agreed, “You really aren’t.”

“I mean it was my fault,” Joel rushed out, glancing over to Y/n, “Our fault. You shouldn’t have had to,” he made sure to look in Ellie’s eyes, “And I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Y/n added, her throat nearly clogging up.

Ellie soaked in their words, hurriedly wiping away at the tears welling in her eyes. It only made Joel and Y/n feel worse about their mistake.

“It wasn’t my first time,” Ellie spoke up, not looking in either of their directions.

While they were both emotionally guarded, Y/n was the more available between her and Joel. Her heart still beat for those in need. She got up from the table and came to Ellie, sliding down the wall until she was sitting next to her. She didn’t reach out, she just wanted Ellie to know that she wasn’t alone.

Joel’s way of showing he cared bled through in the way he protected. If he could ensure his people were safe, he could breathe easier.

He got down on his knees in front of Ellie, unloading her pistol from his pocket and handing it back to her.

“Show me your grip,” he said, “Finger off the trigger.”

Ellie held up the gun, barely concealing her joy at finally getting to learn.

“Now who taught you that?” Joel asked.

“FEDRA school,” she answered.

“Figures,” he muttered, Y/n scoffed alongside him. He maneuvered Ellie’s fingers, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand squeezes down on the right.”

Y/n reached out with her good hand, tucking one of Ellie’s stray fingers in. “Pinkies in,” she smirked, “There’s no princesses here.”

“There you go,” Joel sat back, “Look it.”

He tugged on the gun, trying to pull the gun from Ellie’s grip, but it held. She giggled as he yanked her forward.

“Okay?” Joel said sternly.

Ellie nodded, a smile still painted across her face.

Joel loaded the cartridge back into the weapon and safely handed it back to Ellie, who went to stuff it in her pocket.

“Uh-uh,” Joel shook his head, “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Y/n turned her head away and snickered, still not wanting to give Joel the satisfaction of getting a laugh out of her. Joel got to his feet and extended a hand out to her. Y/n begrudgingly took it and let him pull her up.

Noting that outside had gone quiet, Joel nodded towards the door. Him and Y/n headed over and began ripping off the rotten wood boards nailed over the entrance. They had one clean shot at the high rise, they couldn’t make any missteps.

They paused when Ellie approached, both of them wanting her to trust that they’d get her to safety.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Y/n said, trying to make herself believe it too.

“I know,” Ellie muttered, the levity of the past moment having disappeared.

Joel and Y/n’s gazes met, neither one sure of what there was to say. They were developing their language through their silence, the nail biting seconds between safety and risking their lives. It was a level they had never connected on, because there had never been a need.

“Let’s go,” Y/n said softly.

Inhaling, Joel opened the door and they filed out into the empty street, bolting for the building they hoped would shelter them…

—————————

The journey to the high rise didn’t go as easy as they’d hoped, having to dip and duck into abandoned shops and restaurants. With the dark having blanketed them on the way, their arrival felt like an even bigger win when they got there.

There was the small task of getting in to the building.

Joel, Ellie and Y/n stared up at the vent that would grant them access to unlock the door.

“Alright, short stack,” Y/n announced to Ellie, “You’re up.”

Ellie, eager to be a part in any way she could, stepped forward. Joel nabbed a loose piece of wood resting against the wall and handed it to her.

“We’ll brace you,” Joel said, “Be careful going through, could be a long drop.”

“Got it,” Ellie nodded.

Joel bent down, locking his hands together. “You’re just gonna put your foot there,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Ellie breathed. Y/n was standing by, waiting to be needed.

“One, two,” Joel counted before lifting Ellie up.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” the girl said, panicked. Y/n jumped in and steadied her hips.

“Straighten up,” Joel directed, “I got you.”

Ellie stiffened her body, getting traction in the safety of Y/n and Joel’s arms, and rammed the wood into the vent. It clattered to the building’s floor. Joel and Y/n helped thread her through the hole, dusting off their hands after.

“Okay, I’m in,” Ellie called.

“Take a look around first,” Joel told her, the sound of her sneakers hitting the floor defiantly, “Ellie!”

“Come on,” Y/n grumbled, following the clattering noises Ellie made straight to the door. It swung open.

“Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie asked proudly.

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel replied as he and Y/n walked through.

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie admitted, “Walked into that one.”

They carefully made their way through the mess-ridden building, it looked like it had once been a loading dock. A stray car, multiple signs on the walls with instructions and packing materials scattered across the floor.

“All right, we’ll make our way up,” Joel laid out the plan, “And come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.”

Y/n walked ahead and pushed open the door that led to the stairs, Joel shining his light behind her.

“We’re going up 42 flights?” Ellie asked.

“45,” Joel answered, flicking the light upward to reveal the dauntingly tall structure, “But no, not all the way.”

“How far then?” Y/n asked.

Joel heavily sighed, “As far as I can make it.”

Ellie laughed while Y/n rolled her eyes, their fate was to be determined by Joel’s knees.

The cockiness should have been saved for later, or ignored entirely.

After the tenth flight, Y/n was huffing and puffing along with Joel. Years of fighting and manual labor hadn’t been kind to either of them, but the day’s exhausting circumstances weren’t helping.

“Not so easy, is it?” Joel quipped, following Y/n’s panting, hunched over form.

“Fuck…” Y/n drew a deep breath as she turned another corner, “You…Miller.”

“Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” Ellie asked, changing the subject, “How did you guys know it was an ambush?”

Joel and Y/n paused on their respective steps, feeling weight drop on them for different reasons.

“I can’t speak for him,” Y/n answered, drawing a breath, “But when I made my way up to Boston, there were all sorts of people trying all sorts of things. Stories get through the QZ too. People saying that they lost loved ones to raiders…” Y/n shook her head, “It’s a fucking disgusting business.”

Joel almost grimaced, resting against the railing. How the hell was he supposed to answer now?

“I’ve been on both sides,” he admitted, “It was a long time ago, we did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked.

“And the people we were with,” Joel continued, not knowing which bit of what he was about to say would affect Y/n more, “My brother, too.”

Y/n was braced against the railing, gripping the bar so tight she knew her knuckles were white. Joel was different now, a completely transformed man from the one she’d known. She had watched him kill, torture and separate entirely from his heart. But much like when he beat up the FEDRA guard back in the QZ, there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe the man she’d loved was fully gone.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe no one could stay pure in a world of bloodshed.

“Did you kill innocent people?”

Ellie’s question gave Y/n the burst of energy she needed to get up the next flight of stairs and she fled the conversation

The thing about knowing someone better than you know yourself is that the connection is forever. No matter how many changes either person goes through, no matter how much life beats them down and time rusts them…there are inherent pieces of their personality that remain the same. In each footstep that carried Y/n up the stairs, Joel felt the shame of his past choices ache a little more inside his soul. Somewhere, six layers underneath her bitterness, lay the heart of a woman who wouldn’t naturally hurt a fly. And here he was, having undergone a hideous transformation that could have given fairytales a run for their money.

If Y/n was a gentle sweep of rain, Joel was a hurricane, bringing death and destruction wherever he went.

“C’mon,” he said to Ellie, the only answer he could manage.

They climbed a little longer before Joel called out to Y/n, one flight above them. “Stop.”

Y/n paused, reluctantly descending to meet them where they were. Joel opened the door to their designated floor, out of breath and willpower.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed, short on oxygen, but better than Y/n or Joel.

Joel backed up against the wall, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion. “Yeah.”

“Thirty three floors,” Ellie continued cheerily, “That’s good.”

Y/n was bent over, bracing herself against her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted.

Ellie extended a hand to him, “Come on.”

“Gimme a minute,” he complained, he wasn’t even sure he could move.

Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she knew what would motivate Joel. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

Y/n snorted, earning a glare from Joel. She didn’t shy away from staring back at him.

Joel reached up and took Ellie’s outstretched palm, “Lazy ass,” he grumbled, walking past both girls, “Fifty six years old, you little shit.”

Ellie laughed, Y/n patting her on the back as she walked past.

Joel grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and rammed it into the glass door of one of the apartments. He let Y/n and Ellie in first before entering himself.

“Oh, sweet,” Ellie exclaimed, dropping her backpack in the middle of the room, “There’s a couch.”

“Hallelujah,” Y/n replied, setting her bag down as well, while Ellie began rounding up the cushions.

Joel pulled out a drawer form one of the cabinets, carefully collecting the glass shards he’d created and shaking them across the floor. Y/n acknowledged it was a good idea, a makeshift alarm system, while she helped Ellie build their beds.

“Joel,” Ellie called, confused as to what she was watching. He didn’t reply. “Joel…”

Y/n spoke up, “Joel.”

He turned quickly, “What?”

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleepin’,” he explained.

“Oh,” Ellie elongated, “I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?”

“Of course I’ll hear it,” Joel replied, impatiently, “That’s the damn point.”

“Okay,” Ellie said, laying down on her couch cushion bed.

The dilemma Y/n faced was simple: two beds, three people. The easiest thing was to share with Ellie, which she was on her way to do when Ellie starfished, blocking any extra room she had.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, nudging the bottom cushion with her boot, “I’m exhausted.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed over there,” she nodded towards Joel’s section of the floor.

The ex-lover’s eyes met, panic in their gazes.

“Absolutely not,” Y/n stated, turning back to Ellie.

“Why?” Ellie replied, faux innocence in her tone and a smirk on her face, “Shouldn’t be a problem if you two are getting along.”

Every part of Y/n’s body wanted to jump through the apartment’s window and take her chances leaping to her death. Anything was preferable to sharing a bed with Joel again.

Joel felt the same way, he didn’t need to feel any more confused around Y/n than he already was. Laying beside her again would just be another punishment from some higher power.

“I’ll take the floor,” Joel reluctantly offered.

“What, so we have to listen to you complain about your back all day?” Y/n replied, “No, I’ll take the floor.”

“You’re gonna be fuckin’ miserable if you do,” Joel brought up, “And you’ll slow us down.”

Y/n paused, taking a deep breath, trying to get over herself enough to realize Joel was right. They both needed rest.

“Fine,” she conceded, “Back to back.”

Joel nodded, the two of them kneeling down beside the cushions and balling up their jackets.

It was an awkawrd dance, trying to maneuver themselves onto the narrow bed without touching too much. Y/n had to wiggle around, clinging to the edge of the cushion so she wouldn’t fall off. Inevitably, the entirety of their bodies ended up pressed together like magazine pages. Twenty years ago, it was the moment where one of them would flip over and wrap their arms around the other as they drifted off to sleep. Now, they lay stiff as boards, trying not to set off any memories or sensations.

“Well, goodnight,” Ellie said, comfortably curled up in a ball.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Joel grunted.

“Goodnight,” Y/n was facing Ellie and her smirk, “You little shit.”

Joel shut his eyes, trying to force himself to fall asleep quickly. But there was an unfinished part of his day that he couldn’t let go of.

“Ellie,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people,” he recalled, “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Ellie stiffened, rolling over onto her back, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Y/n watched the girl’s countenance change, for as much as they’d gotten to know each other the last few weeks, they didn’t actually know anything. There was blood on both their hands and Ellie wanted the dark of night to hide hers. Y/n couldn’t blame her.

“All right,” Joel conceded, only for a second, before rolling over on his other side. Y/n could feel him shift and knew he was trying to face Ellie. She flipped onto her back so he could see across the room.

“You don’t have to,” Joel continued, trying to keep his body as compact as possible, “Just sayin’…it isn’t fair, your age…havin’ to deal with all this.”

Y/n tried to steady her inhale, Joel’s warm breath fanned over her face, setting her nerve endings alight. The window idea was looking better and better…

Ellie turned her head to face the adults, “So it gets easier when you get older?”

“It never gets easier,” Y/n spoke up, attempting to release some of the pressure inside her from her own sins, “It just…you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff yet.”

Joel’s eyes traveled over Y/n’s face, seeing all the pieces of her he couldn’t recognize. There were two decades of her life he had been absent for. Just as he carried stories and scars earned over time, she did too. It still hurt to see her hurt.

“The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not,” Ellie flipped over to face Joel and Y/n, “Is ‘cause I’ve noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it cause you were shot there?”

Y/n twisted her head to get a look at Joel’s ear. She’s gathered enough information to make an educated guess, but years of fighting had taught her that it took more than one bullet to take out someone’s hearing.

Joel glanced down at Y/n, their breaths mingling in the small space left between them. It would have been so easy to lean down, or even just touch her cheek. Such intimacies belonged in their past life, but Joel could feel his resolve slipping with each second he spent in bed with her.

Y/n felt the draw too. She felt weak for admitting that through her anger, she was still as drawn to Joel as she had been the night they’d met. He may have changed in every way conceivable, but with the small taste she was getting of his body, she knew his firm frame was the same as she remembered. Something about that tortured Y/n more than if he’d completely transformed.

They were wading in dangerous waters.

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel answered, swallowing hard and turning back over on his side, “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

The action of moving brought Y/n out of whatever trance she’d been in. She felt fucking weak, feeling any sort of attraction to the man who’d broken her heart. Rolling back onto her side, she shut her eyes and tried to calm her body down.

“Joel,” Ellie said softly, “Y/n.”

They answered at the same time, “Hm?”

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

Y/n carefully moved the sleeve of her jacket to block her twitching mouth.

Joel barely turned over, “What?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “It runs in your jeans.”

He twisted to get a look at Ellie, who was smirking at them both, and fell back onto his side.

Y/n was desperately trying to contain her giggling, practically holding her breath.

Facing away from them, Joel smirked and muttered something to himself. A whisper of a chortle escaped him. “That is so damn stupid,” he admonished.

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Ellie giggled.

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel shot back.

“Yes, you did,” Ellie replied.

“I’m losin’ it.”

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Ellie grinned.

Y/n snorted, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I knew it would work again,” Ellie exclaimed, lording the two-time award winning joke over Y/n’s head. It was the only one in the book that got her to crack.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” Y/n laughed, digging her entire face into her jacket.

All it took was hearing the sweet melody again, and Joel was pushed over the edge. He had been on pins and needles since meeting her again, naturally waiting to hear Y/n laugh again. In their life, circumstances didn’t occur often that gave you the opportunity to find humor. He’d accepted he may never hear it again. And now, with her back shaking against his, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

As soon as Joel’s shakes being to reverberate off her body, Y/n felt a wave of grief and relief come over her. To hear his giggles, a sound only she’d ever been privy to, felt like coming home after a long day. She wanted to fight it, to rage against all pleasant memories of him, but she wanted a moment of peace more. She wanted to laugh.

Ellie was the loudest of them all, reigning victorious over Joel and Y/n’s stubbornness. It was so needed after the day they’d had.

“Go to sleep,” Joel said, his chuckle contradicting his order.

“You go to sleep,” Ellie laughed, rolling on her bed.

“Both of you go to sleep,” Y/n snorted, her voice lighting up the darkest parts of Joel.

There were two more rounds of giggling, one started by Ellie and one by Y/n. Joel couldn’t stop from joining both. It was the first moment of joy, true joy, that he’d felt in twenty years.

——————

At some point in their sleep, Y/n and Joel inevitably turned over. Y/n had been keeping her hands close to her chest, cradling the injured one. And somewhere in the timeline of the evening, Joel had unconsciously reached over and placed one of his hands over them both. How he blindly found it, how he knew she was trying to protect it, those answers belonged to the blanket of night. But Joel’s fingers wrapped around her bloody fist, protecting her even in his sleep.

He had also rolled over on his good ear.

“Y/n…Y/n.”

Y/n jumped at the call of her name, looking down at her and Joel’s intertwined hands and pulling back. She twisted onto her back, jumping back at the sight of the child standing over her, pointing a gun at them. Her peripheral vision caught Ellie with her hands up in surrender and a man with his own weapon aimed at her.

“Joel,” Y/n raised her hands, kicking her ex in the shin, “Joel!”

He startled awake.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda @avengersfan25 @pedr0swh0r3 (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

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ceilidho · 5 months

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1800s mail order bride [price/reader] for da wip game

i haven't yet gotten around to writing more of this fic (it's listed as complete on ao3 because i feel like it leaves off at a good place so if i never get back around to it, im fine with that, but the door is still open enough for me to return.

without having given this too much thought, this is what i would probably write if i were to make this into a proper fic (huge spoilers below because i'm basically outlining the entire plot):

after the scene in the sheriff's office, Price whisks you off to the local judge to be wed; this is where you come back to yourself and start protesting and denying that you're the girl he's waiting for

Price then says something about how "if you're not her, then who are you?" and brutally interrogates you about your identity (he thinks you're lying and he's just trying to make the truth come out) but you're still too nervous to say anything about who you are and where you're from because, remember, you just left a city where you killed someone. you have no idea how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. at one point you make up a lie about being "elizabeth smith from Rhode Island" and he challenges that by saying "we'll contact your kin then and have them confirm" (essentially saying you're under house arrest with him / in the town until someone related to "elizabeth smith" telegrams from R.I. or sends a letter)

you never actually give in and just go "fine, i'm the woman you've been corresponding with" but Price sees all these holes in your story as evidence that you are her and he's convinced that "your guilty heart brought you here to me anyway." There's basically nothing you can do to avoid being married off to him.

you're basically shell shocked the entire time at the court house and then on the trip back to the inn to collect your belongings to bring to Price's house.

the first night at his place is rough. you're basically like a feral cat the whole time - still insisting that he's got the wrong woman, indignant and furious when he thinks he has the right to put his hands on you and touch you (Price just lifts his brow at that because like...you are his wife now so really it's a moot point), and locking yourself in his bedroom the second the two of you are home.

Price finds all of this very amusing. he has stuff to do around the property anyway, so he lets you lock yourself in the room for a couple hours.

eventually he does just unlock the door with a key he has on top of the doorframe (you thought you were safe in there but oops nope). there's some conversation about "wifely duties" that has you screaming and spitting at him before he threatens to put you over his knee again, so you clam up and get a bit teary, which makes Price soften. (good excuse for me to write a soft but firm version of Price shushing you and drawing you into his embrace)

anyway, the middle of this story would be all slow, tender sex and you having to get used to being Price's wife while always keeping one eye out for any news of there being a warrant out for your arrest. you get spooked once by a man in town asking about any newcomers (maybe you're in a shop and you overhear him ask the cashier while you're behind a shelf) and try to flee, but Price tracks you down and he's sooooo mad when the two of you get home. like sex is rough that night.

events i'd want to have happen:

someone comes sniffing around town for you (bounty hunter maybe) and you try running away (unsuccessful, but you're mildly reassured when you hear the man has left town by the next day because everyone thinks of you as Price's wife so no one thinks to mention that a woman arrived in town the other week)

there's an incident on a farm on the outskirts of town that Price has to go to - he makes you promise to be good and you spend the next two days wrestling with whether to take the opportunity to leave or not. you end up staying. Price comes back and he's so happy to see his little wife still home after a few rough days of work. probably the first time he makes you sit on his face to reward you.

your luck finally comes to an end when the same bounty hunter finally comes back (your marriage announcement may have been in the local paper and somehow word got to him about a girl matching the description of the woman he's after) and somehow manages to trap you. the climax of this fic is that he manages to get you on a horse speeding away from town and you're heartbroken/terrified/desperate for John but your situation seems hopeless)

John catches up with the two of you and he, uh....deals with the bounty hunter that took his wife from him. before he "deals" with him, the bounty hunter does basically reveal who you actually are, and there's a moment where you see that John believes him. he looks at you in a strange way for just a second and there's this glint in his eye that says "yeah I either suspected this or this is new information to me but now everything makes sense" and your heart just stops because it's the first time where you actually don't want him to know that you aren't the woman that was supposed to be his wife

then he kills the bounty hunter and takes you home :) and he never ever acknowledges what the other man said. because you're his wife and that's all that matters.

suuupppperrrr tender loving sex that night LMAO probably out in wilderness because you're far outside of town and the two of you are exhausted (plus, John just buried this man's body so you had to diverge from the route home for a bit)

at some point in time, a woman does show up at your doorstep claiming to be John's wife. you slam the door on her face.

ok now i wanna write this again FUCKDJGHSJGVSD

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partycatty · 4 months

Text

anon dm requested: "The request would be: Relationship hcs with Liu Kang? Can be just fluff, but if you wanna add nsfw *wink wink*. I think after so many years of celibacy his rizz would be lower than sea level, but I'd love to read your take on it!"

liu kang > love again

what it's like dating the god of thunder and fire - and the keeper of time

warnings: pretty angsty ngl, can't write for this lover boy without profound sadness, mentions of sex

masterlist

• promising your love to an immortal god was a huge responsibility - you were uncertain if you promised your forever, or his forever. two vastly different connotations to the word.

• it took a lot of time and effort to get him to see you like that. liu kang made a vow to his existence to never fall in love again, after losing everything. no mortal would be able to stand by his side for as long as he'd like, for one life was merely a grain of sand in his beach of a lifetime.

• but once he's in, he's in all the way - or so, he tries to be. as silly as it may sound, the man is charming but rusty. he has that natural tendency to draw people in with his words and spirit, but when it comes to real flirting you've got him with rusty cogs in his head.

• he warms up to you little by little, his casual praises lacing with compliments to your physique or mental strength, something he admires in a mortal. but then, you'd cloud his mind with your enchanting form while he is tucked away in his personal quarters, meditating. like a frosted screen blocking his vision, your presence started to eat away at him.

• liu kang tried hard to push it away - he can't do it again. love. he can't love again, when he knows just how quickly it can be taken away. he recalls the life being sucked from him by his revenant counterpart, being by thunder god raiden's side after his mortal death, clinging hopelessly onto a backwards moving kitana.

• and yet, when he'd watch you beam with pride after learning a new combo, or hold eye contact for just a moment longer than the other chosen ones, liu kang would force himself to break his usually solid eye contact. you just broke something in him - the side that he thought died when he lost everything he knew.

• even after fighting the urge to confess any sort of attraction, liu kang feels viscerally angry seeing anyone else show interest in you. his fists clench and his tattoos flicker a frustratingly blinding shade as he silently cooks himself in the distance. he partially hates himself for being so jealous, and partially because he know he could just stop being jealous by having you all to himself, something he couldn't bring himself to do.

• so much gentle encouragement gives him the strength to say you're his, and it rolls off of his tongue far too easily. why hadn't he tried it sooner? you were so perfect, and he felt like he couldn't pat himself on the back for it. he created you, but never expected your true colors to shine so vividly.

• most nights are spent comforting your new godly boyfriend. your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you massage his scalp thoroughly. he's very still as he absorbs every touch you give him. he may not need to sleep, but he'd lay there for hours if it meant he was your pillow.

• just as you savor calling him your lord, he savors calling you his. "my love, my dear, my beloved, my flower," any romantic nickname is game if it opens with a "my." once he starts getting comfortable enough to use them, it's never ending.

• sex with him is always tender and passionate, where he is entirely focused on your pleasure rather than his own. he has no need for such release anymore, but he can't deny your warmth encapsulating him as a sign of your devotion to him. you also make a great stress relief toy!

• liu kang remains professional in front of the others, but his glowing eyes are so strikingly obvious, especially when they're transfixed on you. when he is speaking of behalf of earthrealm to the outworld royalty, his hand falls on the small of your back as he speaks, as if to say "i am a god, but she is my equal."

• demands respect for you. isn't usually the type to cause a scene but will actively call anyone out that disrespects your feelings. will call you his lady in public, just as he is your lord. in his effortlessly neutral tone, he'll squeeze his fingers into your side as he suppresses his godly anger.

• you don't carry the burden of the knowledge he possesses with every waking moment, he can't even begin to explain it to you. he withholds plenty of information, calling it a "spoiler" or "surprise." the timeline is his to know, and yours to find out. he doesn't want to give you the same burden of truth.

• the only truth liu kang wants you to hold onto is that he chose you in this timeline. did he choose you in others? no, but what matters is that he sees you this time around.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #liu kang x reader #liu kang #marley writes ☆

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ieirism · 8 months

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I'm absolutely in love with your fics, I saw requests were open and I had to pop in! If it's not a problem, could you write a little scenario in which Kazuha knows s/o is crushing on him? Maybe s/o isn't aware of their own feelings yet but they dote on Kazuha like crazy and that makes him so 🥺

declaration.

pairing: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

contains: fluff and possibly ooc kazuha bc i struggle writing my favorite characters for some reason please dont hate me

for @yandere-romanticaa <3

note: ana you are so amazing and i'm so sorry it took me way too long to fulfill your request. i’m so honored that you took time to send me an ask and i hope you enjoy 🥹

You’ve known the familiar saltiness of the ocean breeze for as long as you can remember. All your life you’ve been at sea as the doctor of the famous Crux fleet. Even now, the splashing of the waves against the sides of the docked ships fills your ears with their gentle greeting and calms your aching body.

Your eyes slip closed as you take in the scent of the sea, and try to steer yourself away from focusing on the alcohol rushing through your veins. For being part of the crew of a famous pirate captain known for her love of alcohol, your tolerance is embarrassingly low.

Beidou, leader of the legendary Crux fleet, is a household name admired by many, including yourself. You’ve always longed to be as courageous and bold as she is. Yet, you’re seemingly cursed with your shy and soft-spoken personality, unable to emerge from your shell.

You’re reminded of this again as roars of laughter sound from below the crow’s nest in which you perch, your fellow crew mates celebrating another successful arrival at Liyue Harbor. If you had a single social bone in your body, you would have a half a mind to party right along with them. After all, the fleet had recently returned from Inazuma, and although it would kill half the crew to admit it, many were afraid that they wouldn’t be making it back because of the current condition of the nation.

Inazuma.

While just as strict and frightening that the rumors made it out to be, the trip had not been entirely fruitless, especially for you.

After all, that’s where you ended up meeting him.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

A young man from Inazuma that Beidou allowed onto her ships, a runaway from the wrath of the Almighty Shogun. Mild and tranquil, gentle and calm, yet his strength and will could not be disregarded even by the most ignorant of fools. You had seen his blade in battle, and witnessed the mercilessness even a kind man like him could display.

Your closed eyes tighten, and so does your heart. You want to blame the alcohol you had poured down your throat for the ache in your chest at the thought of him, and yet, you know it’s futile. He had not only shown you kindness like he had everyone else, but also genuine interest and compassion. He had paid you what your foolish self had interpreted as special attention, offering to assist in the hospital wing, inviting you to sit with him on the deck to watch the stars, bringing you meals when you were preoccupied by your work—although you’ve only spent a few short months with him, you’ve already grown attached to him.

You had convinced yourself to be fine with living in the shadows; you have come to terms with the fact. You didn’t mind living your life with no permanent company, content with yourself and the view of the ocean. And yet, when Kazuha had conversed with you with such tenderness in his eyes, how could your heart not be stirred after being neglected for so long?

You can’t exactly describe what you feel for him, only that you long to be by his side. He’s almost magnetic to you; you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt this way for anyone—although you don’t know the word for it, it’s been consuming you.

You briefly wish you could have another drink.

You don’t typically consume alcohol, hence your pathetic status as a lightweight. Yet, a few hours ago, something deep inside you shattered when, while attempting to search for Kazuha, you heard a few rumors flitting about within the crew. Apparently, Kazuha planned to leave the crew and stay in Liyue for the time being, at least until the political problems in Inazuma had been quelled to some extent.

You were so pathetically devastated; you know Kazuha has been a wandering warrior for a long time now, so it made sense for him to not want to be tied down for too long. However, logical thinking couldn’t erase the pang in your chest, and before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, thoughts muddled and limbs heavy.

You felt foolish for ever thinking you would truly be alright with being alone. After he came along, your whole world had changed – and if he was truly about to leave you, everything would change once more. This time, you don’t know if you could lie to yourself about your loneliness, not with the hole in your heart that had already started to form.

You had barely been able to climb up to the crow’s nest in your intoxicated state, but you managed to do so without hurting yourself. You often came up there in the dead of night when everyone was asleep. For many years, it was only yourself sitting up there, staring at the sky. Whether it was starry or foggy or rainy, having a moment of peace on your own always brought you comfort.

Despite your intentions of moping in your feelings by yourself, you’re not alone. Perhaps if you weren’t so intoxicated, you would have noticed the very man on your mind watching you from just below you on the deck. Kazuha’s scarlet eyes are gentle as they gaze upon your small form curled up in the crow’s nest, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he watches you.

You’re simply exquisite, moonlight bathing you in a heavenly glow as stars twinkle merrily behind you. You’re facing away from him, but he can happily imagine your pretty face admiring the twinkling night sky. He had gone into Liyue Harbor to buy you rice buns, which you had mentioned several times to be your favorite food. You often spoke about how much you missed food from your home nation, especially this one particular treat, so Kazuha had wanted to surprise you.

You deserve this, and so much more. You hardly ever get to rest, always tending to the injured and weak without complaint. You’re careful and tender with your hands, strong and capable with your knowledge, and kind and humble with your heart.

He’d been imagining the beautiful delight that he hoped would overtake your features, radiating the most gorgeous form of joy that he had only felt from the warmth of your smile. You would direct this pure happiness only at him, pretty eyes sparkling. Kazuha considered himself a lucky man to have been able to see this expression of yours, as you were characterized as quite indifferent by the rest of the crew.

The more selfish part of him basks in the idea that he has been the only to see your true happiness, and to a greater extent, been the source of it. He knows the effect he has on you; your stuttered words and averted gazes never did much to hide your feelings. Nor did the way you dote on him even when he isn’t badly injured, tending to his wounds with feather-light touches and soft words of reassurance.

Kazuha knows all this, but remains careful – any wrong move could drive you away, so he moves slowly, inconspicuously. He couldn’t make his intentions clear from the start, or knowing you, you may have become overwhelmed.

This never stopped him, however, from staying close to you and reveling in the way you showed your affections for him, even in the small and unintentional ways.

He’s not as amiable and kind as you might think; he doesn’t spend time with you because he pities you. Although he puts up an easygoing, polite persona with everyone around him, he always knows exactly what he wants, and isn’t afraid to pursue it. Kazuha simply can’t get enough of you, the same way he knows you can’t get enough of him.

Tonight, he’s decided to make it clear, once and for all, that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Kazuha deftly climbs up the crow’s nest, steps light and quick so as to not disturb or startle you. When he reaches the top, he calls out to you. “May I join you?” Unnaturally slow, you turn your head to meet his gaze, and – have you been crying?

“Kazuha.” You croak his name softly, a fresh wave of sadness seemingly washing over you as you register his presence. Kazuha wastes no time in rushing to comfort you, face pulled into an uncharacteristic display of panicked concern.

“What happened?” His voice is still composed and calm, but his heart is hurting, aching, at the sight of you in distress. You don’t say anything in response, only staring blankly right at him. Several wine bottles are scattered around you; it’s not difficult to deduce that you were intoxicated, and severely so.

What had made you, who typically avoided alcohol like the plague, end up like this?

Before he could continue trying to coax an answer from you, you suddenly raise one hand, reaching over to poke at his chest with your index finger, hard. Your sad expression morphs into one of frustration instead, eyebrows furrowing as you try to form a coherent thought.

“Y-You.” One word. You curl your fingers into the front of his haori. Kazuha raises his eyebrows, confused by both your reply and sudden boldness. You had never attempted to touch him besides when you were healing him, despite all of the time you’d spent together.

“Me?” Kazuha starts to worry; had he done something truly unforgivable to upset you? While he himself can’t remember any action that could’ve made you act like this, it very well could’ve been unintentional and yet warranted an apology all the same. You don’t speak for another few moments, keeping your grip on his clothing as you stare down at your lap, seemingly having lost some of your nerve.

“I-Is your arm a-alright?” Your eyes dart toward where his wound is wrapped by thick cloth, done by your own hand only hours earlier. You had tears stinging your eyes while tending to his injuries, something that never happens. After years of dealing with medical emergencies, nothing fazes you anymore—nothing, apparently, except seeing Kazuha wince slightly in pain even when you do your best to be gentle.

“Of course.” Kazuha smiles softly at you. “All thanks to you.” You’re quiet again, as if slowly digesting his words. You shift on your feet, fingers still gripping his clothes.

“...D-Don’t leave me.” Your voice comes out small. Your lip quivers. Kazuha’s heart drops into his stomach.

“Leave you?” he repeats your words quietly, in disbelief.

“Don’t.” Another few tears trip down your face. He calls your name softly, and in response, you finally lift your head to look at him again.

“Where did you hear that I would leave you?” he asks, gently taking your now unfurled hand that was still resting on his chest.

“They s-said you were s-staying in L-Liyue.” You hiccup, the hand encased in his own curling into a fist.

Kazuha pauses, finally starting to understand the situation. It was true that some time ago, he had planned to wander Liyue until he would be allowed back in Inazuma peacefully. He remembers saying so in response to several crew members asking how long he would be staying with the Crux fleet. This would’ve been the plan, if not for the defining factor that ultimately swayed his decision to remain on the ship for longer.

“Staying? I’m only visiting.” Kazuha smiles gently, revealing the bag full of rice buns and placing it in front of you. “For this.” For you.

Your eyes brighten a little at the familiar scent and sight of your favorite food. Your vision clears a little as Kazuha wipes at your tears with a careful brush of his fingers. Your mouth runs dry, completely forgetting about the rice buns you had been missing for months as you take in the sight of him.

His light hair is blessed with a soft glow from the moon, his kind scarlet eyes glittering with concern and yet a hint of… amusement? Is this even real? Is he really not going to leave? The horrible, fleeting thought that this might be an extensive figment of your imagination crosses your mind.

Kazuha continues to smile tenderly at you, thumb drawing soothing patterns across the apple of your cheek. Your heart starts beating faster, unable to contain the emotions bubbling up inside of you any longer –

You don’t know if you can completely blame the alcohol for the way you collapse into his arms, and he catches your weight as if you were a feather, holding you against him with ease. Kazuha squeezes your hand, still firmly held in his, as if to reassure you that he wouldn’t let you fall. You should be embarrassed, mortified, even, but you can’t bring yourself to care – not when you’re finally, finally as close to him as you’d always wanted to be.

Kazuha’s free hand brushes along the back of your neck, sending goosebumps trailing up your skin. He gently brings your head down to rest right over his racing heart. “Can you hear that?” he hums. “This is how you make me feel.” You sniffle, on the verge of tears once more – you’d been searching for what you feel for him, for so long. As Kazuha cradles you against his chest, even your intoxicated self slowly comes to realization.

Kazuha strokes the top of your head, allowing you to continue listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat. Everything is perfect – his compassion, his patience, his warmth, him. You have never been more certain that in this moment that you really, truly –

“Love you.” The words leave you steady and clear, not a hint of a tipsy slur like everything else you had said to him that night. You’re not even nervous that you might’ve just humiliated yourself; not with the way he held you tighter, communicating without a lack of doubt that –

“I love you, too.” His voice was little more than a whisper, but that was sufficient – no, so much more than enough, for you.

“Please.” You lift your head, still heavy with alcohol, off his chest to meet his gaze. “Please, k-kiss me.” With all of your heart and soul, you expect, hope, want him to lean down and grant your wish, but he simply gives you a soft smile.

“Not like this, my love.”

Kazuha hopes you don’t get him wrong – he wants to kiss you, desperately. He has wanted, for months, nothing more than to feel the sensation of your undoubtedly soft lips against yours, moving in flawless synchronization and doing nothing to quell the desire in his heart, but rather, fuel it.

“P-Please,” you stutter again, with more urgency this time. Somewhere in the back of your frazzled mind, you know he’s right; it would be wrong of him to take advantage of your inebriated state. But you want it, want him. You’ve always considered yourself a rather content person, accepting of what you had and never chasing after more, but for him, you’d keep running for the rest of your life.

Slowly, torturously, Kazuha leans down, and you close your eyes in anticipation – only to feel his lips on your forehead. You open your eyes to see that he has already drawn his face away from yours, one of his hands bringing your head forward against his chest once more.

Kazuha smooths the distressed crinkle that forms between your brows as you realize that he won’t be kissing you tonight. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a need to ask again once you’ve recovered.” His lips curl into a rather cheeky, boyish grin. Your face heats up and your stomach twists into a knot – not the anxious, unpleasant kind, but one of deep yearning.

“Stay w-with me, p-please.” You whisper this as a prayer to Celestia, to him, before you let yourself finally succumb to the wine-indueced sleepiness that had been threatening to overtake you for far too long. As Kazuha rubs soothing circles along your back to ease you into a deep sleep, you feel what you’ve experienced with him and him only – safe, cared for, cherished.

The next morning, you wake up to the squawking of seagulls as well as the crash of the morning tide against the wooden planks of the Alcor. Warm sunlight is already filtering in through a thin layer of clouds, accompanied by a gentle breeze that sweeps through the sails. A pounding headache has settled in your temples, along with an incredibly unpleasant parched feeling in your throat.

The memories of last night come flooding back much faster than you would’ve liked, hitting you all at once and making you outwardly recoil at how you had – oh, my, Kazuha is –

You realize just then you’re still in his arms, his haori wrapped around the two of you for warmth. He’s fast asleep, his snoring quiet and rhythmic.

It was all real.

The gasp that you let out immediately awakens Kazuha; he’s always been a light sleeper. His scarlet eyes snap open abruptly, instinctively scanning the premises for danger before focusing on you. “Are you feeling alright?”

Your face is burning with embarrassment and you’re tripping over your words, feeling guilty for waking him up and trying to ask him to go back to sleep. After a few moments of nonsensical babbling, all you can say is, “The rice buns – “ You never forget to finish your sentence, as Kazuha silences you by placing one of his hands – large, rough and calloused from years of combat yet still so gentle – on your cheek, thumb swiping across your lips. A silent request.

You hardly have time to nod before he pulls you against him in one fluid motion, finally allowing his lips to clash with yours. He kisses you long and deep, with passion and longing lacing every small movement of his mouth against yours. If you had any worries about his feelings not being as intense as your own, they were promptly quashed by the way he greedily swallowed every breath, every noise that threatened to leave you.

When he finally pulls away, you feel like your heart is about to leap from your chest and fly far, far away. Kazuha is smiling, looking at you with something that can only be described as pure, unadulterated adoration burning in his scarlet gaze.

This alone was a declaration. Calm yet firm, and leaving absolutely no room for doubt – that he loves you.

#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #reader insert #kazuha x you

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foodsies4me · 27 days

Note

The trainees protecting Magnus is now immortalised as one of my fav head cannons to ever exist. Mostly cause Magnus deserves to be loved and protected and pampered. He has been doing this for others for centuries and secondly he deserves it cause he is just amazing and beautiful soul.

Secondly I actually got so emotional at all the trainees banding together to give him hugs and bring him snacks. Magnus really went from single bachelor with no soul mark trying his is unloveable to the being loved by a handsome Shadowhunter and his clan of protective lil beans. I can only imagine the scene after when Malec are alone and Magnus just breaks down cause ‘fuck, I really am adored for more than my magic’. Cue protective and soft soulmate Alec and just all the emotional reassurance cuteness ☺️

You’re honestly amazing. Like never miss a beat, always on point in ways I could never imagine ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As a (waaaaay too late) follow up to the Magnus getting hurt prompt and getting some trainees cuddles. (I am running so far behind on my prompts which I know all meant as prompts but they spark too many bunnies and then I want to write them.😂

Anyway here is the short follow up to that first prompt.💜

Magnus watches as the trainees walk out the door in pairs of two and threes. They’re all stalling, Hideaki “accidentally” forgetting five different pencils while Max forgets his socks, shoes and needs to pee before he runs out of excuses he can use. Clara is clinging to him, pouting and arguing with Alec that Magnus needs another Sad Pancake Day despite his injuries having entirely healed.

Seeing the displeasure on their faces – the disappointed pouts that not even Aloysius and Ariadne manage to hide has something squeezing painfully in Magnus’ chest. Something warm and tender and painful, tearing and healing old wounds as Magnus struggles to keep his voice light and teasing.

Chairman Meow is pouting as well.

It’s not as visible as the crossed arms and downturned lips the trainees have adopted, but it’s visible in the way he’s swishing his tail and twining himself around the trainees’ legs, trying to stop them from leaving in a way Magnus doesn’t dare to.

“-okay Magnus?” Alexander’s voice pulls him out of his internal stewing. He’s looking at him, waiting for an answer. He has Clara and Steph hiked up on one arm while Leo and Barika are dangling from the other and he doesn’t even seem to notice it and the sight makes Magnus’ heart tighten again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that darling.”

“I’ll see you tonight?” he repeats, rolling his eyes when the reminder Alexander will be back tonight causes another wave of protests.

“Now, now my darling beans – it’s only until Saturday. I’m sure you’ll all survive a few days without me there.”

“But we don’t want to,” Payton grouches this time around. “Can’t you just come live with us at the institute? And then Chairman Meow can come too and we don’t have to wait.”

“Alright, that’s enough out of all of you,” Alexander interrupts before anyone else manages to fit another word in. “We’re already late so say bye to Magnus so we can go home.”

The chorus of Fine’s that echo through his loft sound somehow even more unhappy and displeased than everything else the trainees have said before this point. They bid him goodbye with quick stolen hugs and promises to see him on Saturday before Magnus is alone again in his too-big and too-empty loft.

“Meow,” Chairman Meow complains when the door shuts behind Alexander, the sound high and whiny.

“I know, Chairman,” Magnus sighs, sitting down on his couch so Chairman Meow can climb onto his lap. His chest is still hurting, his heart overflowing with more emotions than he knows what to do with. “I know. I miss them too.”

If later that night he ends up with tears in his eyes when Alexander hands him the drawings and get-well cards the trainees made him, his heart too full of love and care, then that’s only between him, Alexander’s shirt and the privacy of his wards.

#Foodsies rambles #Foodsies writes #AWG Malec

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shadowbriar · 1 year

Text

Fred Weasley - Pick Up Where We Left Off

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.5k Warning : None. Let me know if I missed anything Synopsis : One last Christmas with the Weasleys, would she find her closure from his sudden withdrawal years ago? Notes : I’m trying to pull myself out of writing slump. Hope this is good enough of a comeback-ish post. Not proofread, I might edit this later. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Perhaps she’s read one too many romantic novels that it’s started to blur the line of reality in her life. Perhaps Hermione has told her too many tales of happy endings that it’s started to dilute her idea of realism. Perhaps she’s taken Divination class too seriously that it’s started to make her believe that the Universe holds a better, sweeter, and dreamier ending for her and him.

It was no question for her on whose palms her heart belongs. Long before Snape taught her class about Amortentia, long before Trelawney taught her about crystal-gazing, she already knew whose magnetic force her world would revolve around. One look of him after being sorted to her house and it felt like the thin haze of uncertainty in her life was lifted. She might only be a child then, but she knew that this wouldn’t be something she could walk past from.

For the first few years of her school life, everything seemed to be falling to its place. It wasn’t hard for her to grow close with him, like how bees are naturally attracted to flowers, in no time he was always just an arm’s length from her. He was always around. Always had his hands on top of her head as they walked on the corridors, always saved her a seat in the Great Hall for every meal, and would always find her first to share the mischief he’s accomplished during the day.

Yet some day in their Third year, something changed. Like someone had just pulled the rug she was standing on, snapping her to the reality that things are simply too good to be true. She has misunderstood his affection and tender gestures. Fred Gideon Weasley has never held any romantic feelings for her.

She bites her lip as the memories of their once fond friendship slowly evaporates to thin air. He slowly distant himself, for whatever reason she still couldn’t decipher. His bright beaming smile turns into a tight line before eventually gone entirely from his handsome face. His fingers no longer play with her hair and the space between them during meals seem to grow further each day until he’s found himself eventually sitting on a different spot.

“Will you come and spend Christmas with us?” Ginny asks, linking her arms as they walk to the train “It’s been a while since we see you on breaks.”

She smiles, shaking her head lightly, “Not this time, Gin.”

“Is Fred still being an arse?” The younger continues with her questions “It’s been years, surely he’s warmed up to you.”

“He sure has.” She lied, giving the red head a squeeze on the arm “We’re just not as close anymore and I think it would be awkward for us all if I were to pop out of nowhere at your family dinner.”

“Nonsense! Everyone would be delighted to see you, I can guarantee that.”

She shows an apologetic smile, still not giving in.

“It’s been years,” Ginny continues to plead “You’re graduating soon and Merlin knows when else we could spend Christmas together. You know, Charlie’s back from Romania and it wouldn’t be complete still without you there.”

“I don’t know, Gin.”

“Please? I’ll hex and petrify Fred in his room if he’s making you uncomfortable.”

She chuckles a little before letting out a sigh, “Alright.”

—-

She tidies her skirt in nervousness, standing in front of the Burrow’s door as she wonders if coming here was a mistake. One last Christmas, she thought. One last Christmas before she could move on from the long attaching chapter in her life that is Fred Weasley. One last Christmas with the Weasley before she shuts the memory away. One last Christmas to say goodbye.

With a long inhale, she hesitantly knocks on the wooden door. Her grip on her purse tightened as the person who greets her first was the one she least wished to see. He looks just as surprised to see her, a light hint of rose tainting his cheeks. Perhaps from the cold breeze of air.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” She greets back “Your family invited me for dinner.”

He blinks, seemingly at a loss of words, “Right, of course.”

“Sunshine!’ A voice called behind him, revealing Bill who’s now coming to her with large steps “Oh, it’s been decades since I last saw you!”

She giggles as he pulls her for a hug, lifting her slightly, “Hello, Bill.”

“Oh, Merlin.” He says, staring at her beamingly as he puts her down “Look at you now! You’ve grown! You’re a lady now.”

“Still far shorter than you, though.”

“Nah, your height is the perfect one. It’s cute.”

Fred clears his throat, “I think you should let a woman come inside first before flirting with her, Bill.”

“Of course!” Bill says, pulling her by the shoulder and leading her in “Come on, there’s so many things we should talk about. How’s life, Darling?”

The warm happy smile is still plastered on her face, feeling genuinely happy as Bill starts to share the bits of his life that she’s missed about. He’s always been the welcoming big brother for her, always there to embrace her with such warmth and love she would never find elsewhere. Yet with all the joy and delight of hearing Bill’s pleasant stories, she couldn’t help but to notice the annoyed scoff and the louder slam of the door as they entered the house.

Perhaps her presence really is a bother for him.

—-

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She curses with a sigh, placing her hands to hips.

To say dinner went pleasantly would be such an understatement. Everyone welcomed her as if she was the missing jigsaw the family has been missing for years. Bill was always by her side, Charlie sharing all of his adventurous tales from Romania, and Percy who blabbered about his new position at the ministry. The shared night felt like it went by too quickly that Mrs. Weasley persisted for her to stay the night, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Perhaps it was the blissful warmth the house has always been filled in and the waves of emotions she hasn’t felt for years that made her struggle to drift off to sleep now. That or the fact that Fred was the only silent party on the table. He was the only one who didn’t try to engage in a conversation with her, yet she could feel his eyes boring into her like a tiger prying on their prey. The not so subtle, dare she say, jealousy he shows when Bill rests his arm around her shoulder, or when Charlie played with her hair, or when Percy give her a slice of their mother’s cookings, or when George made her laugh so hard she cried, or when Ron hugged her as he opens her present, or even when Ginny stole her to gossip about her little crush on Harry at the sitting room. All the little mundane things they used to do, she couldn’t help but to wish that Fred would miss it too.

But he’s made no effort to come to her, not even a step closer. He kept his distance, a tight forced smile decorating his face whenever their eyes met. It was as if her presence was torturing him.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh, Godric!” She yelps, turning to see the angel of her nightmares standing by the stairs “I couldn’t find where the sugar’s placed.”

He nods, not saying a word as he opens the overhead cabinet and puts the sugar to the table.

“Thanks.” She muttered with a small smile “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” He says short, now leaning to the basin “I couldn’t sleep.”

She nods.

The sound of her stirring her cup of tea is now the only thing breaking the silence between them. She could feel him staring, with his hands folded in front of his chest as if he was studying her. She dares not to look up. Merlin knows just how much of a shamble she would find herself in to lock their gazes. Even after all these years of separation, she knew that he’s still the one magnetism her heart belongs to.

But minutes passed and he still hasn’t spoken a word. Her tea was getting cold, untouched for she fears the slightest change of action would make him leave. Though the tension was ripping her apart, she would gladly be stuck in this situation forever if it meant she could keep him around.

“How have you been?”

She looks up, finally gathering enough courage to see him, “You mean lately or the past few years we’ve been apart?”

“Both,” He says with a slight frown “I suppose.”

“I’m doing alright. You?”

“Could’ve been better.”

“Lately or the past few years?”

He smiles, repeating his words, “Both, I suppose.”

She looks down to her tea. This would be the very time for her to find her closure, find the answers as to why he would leave her so abruptly with no warning. Yet now that the universe has aligned them their moment, why is she now feeling scared? Why does it feel like laying on the bed of uncertainty, the one thing she’s found comfort with over the years of his absence, feels like a better course of life than to have her heart broken for whatever reason he might have?

“I know that I owe you an explanation,” He says as if he could read her mind “But I fear that it would only make you hate me.”

“What makes you think that I don’t already hate you?”

He smiles painfully, “Silly of me think that you haven’t.”

“Say we live in a world where I could never hate you,” She whispered, fingers tapping on her tea cup “Would you give me the answer?”

“In that world, yes.”

She looks up, pleading for him to continue in silence.

“In that world I would tell you everything.” He continues “I would tell you everything, give you everything. Hell, I wouldn’t even leave in the first place.”

“Say that is our world, this world. What answer would you give me?”

His gaze softens, guilt and regret seeping through them, “That I was just a boy. I was scared of what our friendship could lead us to.”

She remains quiet.

“We were so close.” He reminisced with a sad smile “There were times when I felt like I was closer to you than George, and he’s always been with me since I first took my breath in this world, yet somehow you overthrone him and it scares me.”

She nods, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not something you should feel sorry for, Love.” He chuckles bitterly “I was afraid you would somehow, in my most narcissistic mind, fall for me. I know that there would be no chance in the seven hells for that to happen, a girl like you falling for a boy like me, hell that would’ve been the most dubious wish I could hope for.”

She frowns, not following where his confession is going to.

“But I was scared that that would happen. I was scared that our friendship would grow into something more and I could never forgive myself if you were to fall for me when I haven’t sorted my feelings out.”

“I see,” She speaks, taking gulps to try and suppress the growing lump on her throat “And have you sorted your feelings now?”

“I have,” He nods, a sad smile still plastered on his face “I have for years but it was too late already.”

“Too late for what?”

“To make you mine.”

Her head now spins. She felt like her ears had lied to her, that her mind had somehow misunderstood his words, for there could be no chance in every lifetime that he would ever reciprocate her feelings. Never.

“I’m sorry that I ruined everything.” Fred says with a shaky voice as if he was trying to bottle his emotions “I’m sorry that I left you, I’m sorry for realising my feelings too late, I’m sorry for making you hate me, and I’m so fucking sorry for being jealous at everyone who gets to spend their time with you because no matter how many times I tried, I can’t stop loving you.”

And there it is. The confirmation that she wasn’t just making the words in her head. That he indeed, is confessing his heart for her.

She places her hands to her forehead, trying to stop the dizziness she’s feeling right now. Everything Fred said was all she’s been praying for but now that she’s heard it, she wasn’t sure what to say. That, and the fact that she still needs to comprehend that this wasn’t just a lovely dream her mind’s playing.

“Please say something.” Fred begs.

“Merlin, I hate you so much.” She sighs, now looking up to meet his saddened eyes “If I had my wand with me right now, you would’ve find yourself in a casket already, Fred Weasley.”

He smiles, “That doesn’t sound like a very bad way to go.”

“Oh, it is.” She nods, scoffing “Because then you wouldn’t know that I’ve been loving you too.”

His smile dropped, blinking as he heard her.

“Now you can hate yourself even more.” She says sarcastically.

“You’re-” He stammers, now standing up rigidly “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m as serious as you are.” She answers, standing from her seat too “So tell me, Fred, am I being serious?”

Fred was at a loss of words. He stares at her with a conflicted look, like desire and restraint was fighting to take over his body. He hesitantly takes a step closer to her and when she doesn't flinch, he closes the gap between them, now standing in front of her with his hands resting on either of her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

She squints her eyes, confused, “What for?”

“For what I’m going to do.”

And with that he leans in, sealing their lips together in the most delicate way. The kiss was short but it was enough to fuel both of their aching hearts. They sigh as they break it off, eyes still closed for a few more seconds as they try to bath in each other’s presence. Something that they’ve longed so painfully long for.

“I love you.” Fred says, looking at her tenderly “I would do anything, and I mean by anything to fix us. We can start from the beginning, I could be a friend or anything you like. Just- Please give me a chance to fix this.”

“I don’t know, Fred.” She teases, faking a sad face “You’re cute, but Bill looks so hot now.”

His mouth was agape, gasping at her taunt, “And here I thought you were a loyal friend. Siblings are off limits, you know it!”

She smiles, kissing the palm of his hand.

“Please?” He asked again, whispering his plea “You won’t regret it.”

“Okay,” She nods, cheeks red from the bliss “But only if you promise you’ll kiss me at the podium when we graduate.”

“Yeah, about that,” Fred awkwardly chuckles, one hand now finds its way to the back of his neck “You’d still love me if I got expelled, right?”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley scenario #fred weasley scenarios #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc

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desires-of-chain · 11 months

Text

Sleepy and Divine

Finally back with the promised chronic pain/fatigue smut with Warriors! This has been my favourite to write so far - it turned out a lot softer and more tender than I had originally planned, and I'm super happy with it. Also very heavy on the worship kink which I will NOT apologise for. Who's gonna say no to receiving devoted love and attention from a handsome captain? Not me! I will slightly apologise for my blatant favouritism of the petname 'darling', which I only realised was a common thread through all of my fics about three quarters of the way through this one. It's just.... so good.

As with the other chronic pain fic, small psa for those not in the know: reader is aware of their own limits and both them and Warriors know how to handle anything changing - the sexytimes is informed. You do what you can with what you've been given, and sometimes that means having fun then sleeping the entire next day away lmao. Again, this is mentioned in its own way in the fic but I wanted to clarify. I also wrote this reader to be afab, but only the genitalia is described with any sort of gendered language, chest and pronouns left neutral.

With that all out of the way, onto the tender love making <;3

Content: AFAB reader, eating out, fingering, vaginal sex, Warriors' raging worship kink. Reader has chronic pain in their knees, chronic fatigue, and uses a cane.

Word count: 2776

----

The bright lights are starting to get too much. The ball has been at full swing all night, dancing and joyous conversation in celebration of a recent military victory that your group had a hand in. Drinks are aplenty, food abundant, everyone in finery to honour the heroes of the land. But after hours of polite conversation, congratulations, and quite a bit of dancing with Warriors, you're approaching the end of your rope.

You try to follow along with the conversation you're currently having despite the fogginess coming over your brain. The women had approached you a few minutes ago to congratulate, praising your ability to keep up with the famed Heroes of Hyrule all on your lonesome, raving about your rumoured unique form of magic never before seen, and generally cooing over your relationship with the Captain. They’re quite lovely, all things considered, eager to know your talents and happy that you make the Link of this time happy - who in their eyes is a savior that deserves everything good in the world.

Speaking of…

Warriors sidles up beside you with a gentle hand against your lower back and a charming “Sorry to interrupt, everyone.” He’s wearing a gorgeous military jacket in his signature green, cropped at the waist and paired with tight cream trousers. His scarf is around his shoulders like always, but it’s been cleaned and repaired with the utmost care - you wouldn’t be able to tell it was the same one he's worn into battle countless times. He's also wearing eyeliner.

You make eye contact, and his brilliant smile momentarily wipes all exhaustion away. The ladies coo again.

“The man of the hour, so wonderful of you to join us! Your darling here has been great company, telling us about all the things you've seen on your travels together. Lake Hylia sounds like a great date spot, if you ever return, I'd say.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Unfortunately though, as much as I'd like to stay and chat, I came here to steal my darling away for a spell, if you don't mind?” He hits the ladies with his award winning smile, the one you can tell is slightly fake but very convincing, and it works immediately. They shoo you off together with a teasing “Have fun, lovebirds!” and just like that, you're being led away from the crowds and into the surrounding corridors of the ballroom.

Finally out of the sight of everyone, you deflate, leaning more heavily on your cane and closing your eyes. Warriors pulls you into his side, arm wrapping properly around your waist to comfort instead of guide. When you look back up, Warriors is already looking at you.

“Let's find someplace more comfortable, yeah?”

With a nod, a gloved hand intertwines with your own, and Warriors leads you down the halls. You assume you're headed in the direction of the room you were both given, but you don't pay that much attention to the twists and turns. You let yourself drift, losing all focus on everything but the feeling of Warriors’ hand in yours. You trust him to lead you.

You do, actually, arrive at the bedroom you were given as esteemed guests of the Queen, and you leave your cane by the door to head for the bed immediately. Oh, ever since you saw it this morning, you'd been longingly thinking to it all day, unable to wait to sink into the clean sheets and soft pillows and sleep for twenty hours. You flop face first onto the bed, doing the littlest hop to ensure you get the most of your body onto the high mattress. Warriors laughs at you from the doorway. You ignore him in favour of sinking further in. The sheets smell so good…

There's a dip in the bed where Warriors takes a seat by your thighs dangling off the bed. You twist just enough to peer up at him and meet a look of contemplation.

“Y’know, the plan was to steal you away from the party so we could have a different type of fun, but you look rather exhausted.” He tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “We can just cuddle and go to sleep if that's more your speed right now. I'm happy either way.”

You think about it. You are very very tired, but it's been weeks since you and Warriors have had the opportunity to be intimate. And he'll inevitably be dragged off early tomorrow for a meeting or some other bullshit, even if you're allowed a lay in. You wiggle a bit, take stock of your body, roll onto your back. You're already passed your limit - the extra half hour of sleep you'd get now isn’t going to be the cure to your fatigue tomorrow.

“You’ll have to do all the work.” You mumble, watching his face light up like a puppy being given a treat. He leans over and cups your cheek, his face inches from yours.

“I don't mind that at all. You sure you're up for it?”

You nod.

Lips meet tenderly. He's slow, gentle and caring, taking his time. You've done this song and dance before, of Warriors slowly building you up, taking the lead, and it always begins with being kissed like you're the most sacred thing in the world. Hands soon find their way into your hair, gloves soft against your scalp and thumbs at your temple soothing. If it weren’t for the heat against your mouth and the gradual stirring in your lower stomach, you'd be convinced he's trying to coax you to sleep instead.

You reach up and tug his scarf, urging him to hurry up at least slightly, lest you actually fall asleep, and he pulls away from your lips hesitantly.

“What do you need?” He asks, tone almost reverent. You whine. “Relax, darling, I’m right here. What do you need?”

“If I relax any more I will start snoring.” You grumble, and he chuckles.

“Message received, loud and clear. Let's get you out of this stunning outfit.”

He urges you to sit up by the shoulders, and gets to work undressing you immediately. The horniness ramps up three levels when, after fumbling one too many times with a fastening, he decides to pull his gloves off with his teeth to get them out of the way. You stare dumbly as he pulls your garment off your shoulders, watching him take in the details of your bare chest.

“I'm gonna worship you tonight, I think.” He runs his fingers down the length of your torso, the first skin to skin contact all night, just to make you shiver. With the gentlest push to fall onto your back again, Warriors leans over you, and with that same reverence as earlier, “I want to place my touch on every inch of your body, either with my hands or my mouth - alight every part of you with my love. Will you let me?”

You stare up at him wide eyed. You're speechless, fogginess stealing every thought away, only the feeling of awe and love spreading throughout your entire body. Your shoulders involuntarily scrunch up to your ears. You manage a nod.

Warriors leans down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You're so cute when you're sleepy.” His lips meet yours again, just as gentle as before, but his hands whisper against your arms and chest this time, tracing invisible shapes and cataloguing every angle, every curve. You can't help but shiver again. When his mouth moves down to your neck, you gasp and close your eyes.

Drifting in the bliss of it all is incredibly easy with your eyes closed. You feel like you're on a cloud, each point of contact sending you further and further into it. All focus goes to breathing while your senses are overwhelmed with how Warriors navigates your body, kissing from your shoulders down each arm, holding and massaging your palms before placing a kiss on those too. The whispered compliments against your chest a series of prayers, gentle and profound and so sincere.

He eventually arrives at your hips, other half of your clothes still yet to be taken off. He kneels on the ground and gets to work taking those off you too, nudging you to lift your hips, and soon enough you are completely bare in front of him.

He gives your legs the same treatment as your arms, slowly and tenderly moving up with his lips. When he gets to your knees, he takes even more care, ever so carefully holding each leg to relieve the most pressure and pain, murmuring against them something your ears can’t catch, but you feel all the same. Your thighs sufficiently caressed, Warriors finally arrives at where you need him the most.

You're already wet, and when he parts your folds with his fingers you squirm at his hot breath hitting your cunt. Warriors simply stares for a moment…

And with a whispered “thank you…” places his mouth on you.

The whole night had been building up to this - Warriors’ tongue swirling your clit, gently lapping up your slick as he continues caressing your thighs with his spare hand. You can't think at all, completely lost in the pleasure of his touch, moaning openly as his tongue pokes your entrance. His movements are maddeningly attentive, slow and gentle and pushing you higher and higher. He continues to mouth thanks and prayers into your cunt, like your orgasm will be a divine blessing upon him, and gods, it feels divine. You're close. When his free hand moves to push into you and open you up with deft fingers, you're closer.

You know once you orgasm now you’ll be done for the night, though, so you weave your hand into his hair and try to pull him away from you. He simply moans against your clit instead, vibrations shocking another wave of pleasure through you, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You try again.

Warriors looks up at you with hooded eyes and a love drunk smile on his face. You can't help but cup his cheek, thumbing some of your own wetness off his bottom lip. You have his full undivided attention, kneeled on the floor at your feet, and it drives you mad with lust. You have no clue what to say, but the realisation that he's somehow still fully dressed sinks in, so instead of speaking, you unwrap his scarf from his shoulders and drape it over your own like a blanket. Then, your hands move to pull his jacket off, and he chuckles and begins helping.

“Sorry, I got so caught up in your body I forgot you probably want to see mine, too.” Heavy fabric slides off Warriors’ shoulders as he stands to take off his boots and trousers, all garments being discarded to the floor without a care. You keep your eyes trained on every revealed inch of skin, admiring each scar and line and curve. Especially the slope of his waist, which you pull him towards you via when he's finally as bare as you are.

Scooting back up the bed so he can properly kneel on it and truly cage you in, you pull him on top of you and into another kiss. The scarf pools around your body, bathing you in royal blue that feels like a hug, and when Warriors reaches down to push his fingers back into your hole, you clench at it with your fists desperately.

“You're so beautiful…” Warriors gazes down at you with nothing but adoration. You look up at him and think the exact same thing. Words are not working for you right now, but you vow to say everything back to him tenfold as soon as you can. For now, you run your hands across his chest and hope he understands.

Three fingers full and getting close once more, you squirm and buck your hips into Warriors’ hand. When he pulls them out and leans over to fetch something from the bedside table, you whine.

“Just a few more moments, darling, then I'll give you what you need.”

He returns with a jar of lube, and begins prepping himself. He's been untouched this entire time, head red and dripping precum, and when he finally touches himself his face scrunches up in pleasure. The shaky exhale of his breath lights fireworks in your brain.

Sufficiently prepped, Warriors lines his cock up with your entrance. Your legs gently encircle his hips and you look up at him with pleading, desperate eyes.

He pushes in, and you see stars.

He's just as tender and gentle as he has been this entire time, curling around you and pushing slowly in, filling you up with his cock like he's afraid to hurt you. One hand is on your knee - the one that tends to give you the most trouble - and is holding it against his waist gently to make sure it isn't jostled. Compliment after compliment is falling out of his lips, praise like a prayer, a keen for your happiness. Gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, light of my life, they coat you in a blanket of love, simultaneously spreading from his lips, and where your bodies connect.

When he's finally filled you to the brim, his forehead meets the sheets next to your head. He groans as you clench around him.

“My god, I love you.” Warriors murmurs into your ear, and your brain cannot tell if it was simply an expression of gratitude and feeling, or if he was calling you his god.

“I love you too…” you whisper back, awestruck.

Warriors picks himself back up to make eye contact when he starts moving. The thrusts are slow, deep, intent on making you feel every drag and sensation inside you. His forearms bracket your head, hands weaved through your hair while you clench his scarf and tremble as waves of ecstasy spread through your body. The contact is overwhelming, the attentiveness of his hands and hips and mouth as he kisses your lips and jaw - you're so close.

He reaches down and rubs your clit.

“Cum for me, my love. Bless me with it. I want to feel you.”

What feels like divine heat and pleasure shock through your entire body as you orgasm. Warriors speeds up his thrusts slightly, caught up in you clenching around him and losing himself to it too, before pushing all the way in and truly filling you up. You twitch and fidget beneath him, trying to extend the feeling as long as possible. Pure love through your veins.

His head comes back down to rest next to yours, panting heavy in your ear as you come down from the high. You shakily bring your arms up - hands still gripped in the scarf - and encircle him in a hug.

In the wake of the high, fatigue returns. As does the ache of your body. With Warriors’ comforting weight on top of you, drifting into sleep is tantilisingly easy. Even when he picks himself up, knocking your arms to the bed, and begins cleaning you both up, that fog remains, pulling you down to dreamland.

You move at Warriors’ prompting just enough to crawl into bed with him properly, then you're out like a light in his arms.

~~~

You wake to an empty bed and shuffling. Groggily opening your eyes, you see the slightest peek of early morning light through the gap in the curtains, as well as Warriors getting dressed in his usual tunic. You can tell it’s early, too early, and just like you predicted your love is being stolen away by duty. When he spots you awake, he smiles and sits on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Morning, sunshine. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to assess. Still just as tired as last night, a bit achy and stiff all over. So, not the best.

“Bad.” You mumble. Warriors cards his fingers through your hair sympathetically.

“I have to go do boring work, but you can sleep all you want. I’ll get you some food sent up?”

“That sounds nice. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Warriors leans down and kisses you on the forehead, before finishing up with getting ready. You watch him from the bed, slowly stretching yourself out and getting comfortable for a great pre-breakfast nap. Just as he reaches the door, you call out to him.

“Link?”

He turns to look back at you.

“Please let me return the favour for last night sometime soon. You deserve all that you gave me, tenfold.”

“There’s no favour owed, but I would love that. For now though, just rest. Dream of me?” Warriors winks playfully. You laugh.

“Always.”

------------------------------

*bangs on a pot with a spoon* COME GET Y'ALL'S MEAL

🧙 anon strikes once more!

#submission #.bea answers #link x reader smut #link x reader #loz link x reader #loz x reader #link smut #🧙 anon

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year

Note

Okay just because we talked about this earlier- Harry doing soft stuff to you while cuddling. Ugh too cute

Asking for fluffy prompts to write them was definitely not entirely self-indulgent, nope :x

warnings: none, pure fluff

word count: 754

***

It was one of those nights after one of his concerts where neither of them wanted to go to bed. She was familiar with those by now after spending almost the entire length of Harry’s tour at his side, and she never complained because so, she got uninterrupted time with the man she had learned to love even more with every passing day. Gladly, he was happily and contently unaware of the intensity of her feelings for his very being; the fear of scaring him away boiled in her body, too blinding and anxiety-inducing that she couldn’t even try to find the right words.

Sometimes it was a curse to feel so deeply and all-consuming, at least in her eyes.

Slowly blinking, she was pulled out of her head by Harry’s warm hand, which had rested unmoving on the small of her back but started to wander over the fabric of one of his shirts YN had cheekily stolen after their post-show routine. A soft grin had been thrown her way by the man who had watched her getting cozy—as usual—and which had made her blush like a foolish schoolgirl. YN hummed softly at the feeling of his palm gently rubbing over the entirety of her back before Harry moved his hand a bit and started to trace indecipherable shapes, always following the length of her spine.

“H?”

Now it was his turn to hum lowly in question but didn’t let his fingertips stop in their quest to cover her back with shapeless letters and magical forms. He could be conjuring a portal, and she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“What-… what are you doing?”

YN could already feel the lulling effect his doings possessed, like a spell specially created for her weary mind after another long day filled with sightseeing and an exciting show at the end. It certainly didn’t help that Harry had started to press tender, featherlike kisses all over her forehead and cheek closest to him, reminding her of the wings of a butterfly. If she didn’t know the feeling of those kisses, she would easily miss them.

Harry’s other hand now pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek gently, his thumb slowly and almost lazily stroking over her cheekbone, all the while his fingers still traced invisible patterns on her back. With heavy-growing eyelids, YN looked up at his handsome face, gracing a loving smile as he looked down at the woman in his arms, with one of her legs comfortably tangled between his. A brow was barely raised, and the only thing the singer could do at this moment was to kiss the cute tip of her nose.

“Nothin’, darlin’. Just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.”

YN smiled at that and sighed deeply, contently, and nudged his chin with her nose, making him kiss her forehead another time. “You always make me feel good, baby,” she whispered against his inviting neck, snuggling closer into his side, fingers gripping into the hoodie he had thrown over earlier and which had made him look so cozy and cuddle-able. She could feel his soft laugh more than she heard it as sleep sneakily tried to get a hold of her, but his voice prevented her from surrendering. “It’s all I ever want. Makin’ you feel safe and loved because—because I do. So incredibly much. Barely can find the words for it.”

He was sure YN was sleeping as he muttered those words into the dimly lit hotel suite, thinking only the still-running telly caught up to his confession, which had been on his mind for months. But the feeling of her head peeking up from the spot at his neck where she loved to snuggle up gave his heart a push, letting it race inside his chest. Her tired eyes studied his face slowly, probably noticing the shock swimming in his eyes, while his hand still drew patterns on her back because he just couldn’t stop the things he knew she liked.

“Y’love me?” The surprise in her voice almost offended him. “Was I so obvious, hm?” The grin tucked at his lips as he watched her comprehend his words before she just snuggled back into the crook of his neck, his arms instinctively wrapping around her body, fingers combing through her hair. “Love you too, H. So, so much. Never stop. This and loving me.” And he didn’t, her words muffled by his skin and the sleep creeping up on her, which he happily assisted.

***

Send me prompts!

#elle’s askbox #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x female!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #prompt writing #prompt request

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irinaclockworker94 · 4 months

Text

Aroallo Scarab headcanons (God auditor version).

I've traveled across the entire multiverse... and I'm the one who's missing out?

If you came here from AO3, thanks for reading my silly story.

This art is a creation of the fabulous, fantastic, amazing, talented, stunning Kooi_koo

When they finally send me my commission, I was so happy about it. It’s perfect. I spent five hours looking at it XD

You should check their art. It’s amazing!

But, going back to Scarab...

So, Scarab is one of my comfort characters, and I decided to laser beame him as aroallo because I can (and he gives me the vibes, okay?). So, here are some of my headcanons about him.

(By the way, some of these apply to him in the Human AU too).

CW: Suggestive/sexual content.

Scarab has a really high libido and used to bang like crazy until he acquired the title of God Auditor.

He started to become a workaholic so he could forget about sex. Because according to him, his new position wouldn’t need him to get distracted.

But, from time to time, he rarely used his shapeshifting ability to get laids. And always kept his real identity in the dark. For the sake of professionalism.

He feels some kind of repulsed toward romance, especially romantic gestures. He can’t find the appeal in them.

He always saw himself as not partnering. He never felt drawn to people or cosmic beings in that way. For a long time, he convinced himself he was like that for his workaholic tendencies.

He doesn’t like to use the word ‘love’. He prefers to use other words like tenderness, admiration, or similar to show his feelings. (Feelings he expressed more until he started to live in the Time Cube with Prismo).

The last creature that called him ‘my boyfriend’, to refer him, ended up inside an egg.

About developing friendships… he likes them in theory. And crave them to some degree. But he just can’t attempt to make them work, because for him is hard to feel an attachment to people.

That applies to family bondings too.

Living with Prismo surely made him see things from a different perspective. Scarab considered Prismo an annoyance for quite some time.

Until Prismo and Scarab got creative. Come on, being in the Time Cube must be boring sometimes. Of course, they will explore each other’s bodies (and a lot of kink’s awakenings happened).

Continuing with the kink part, Scarab’s occasional partners LOVED his mummy form. They always get creative in funny ways. (Roleplay? Bondage? Both?)

While writing fanfics with Prismo, he discovered the different shipping troupes. Scarab likes the Enemies-to-lovers trope because of the amount of sexual tension. But he would rather prefer it to be ‘Enemies to Friends with Benefits’.

Scarab started to question his orientation after watching the Fionna World, where some friends were talking and one of them confessed to being ‘aromantic’.

Prismo showed him support from the beginning and both started research to put a name to Scarab’s experiences.

Scarab immediately found comfort in the label aroallo because it describes perfectly his experience. And he doesn't want to specify who he is attracted to.

To some degree he identifies with other labels as ‘loveless’, ‘aplatonic’, and ‘afamilial’, but he feels more comfortable using just aroallo because, for him, his attraction is about ‘all or nothing’ and not completely fitting in other labels makes him scream.

He’s aware of terms like gray, demi, etc, but again, Scarab is too dense for his own good to even consider using them.

And when he began to feel a different kind of attraction (non sexual) towards Prismo, he freaked out.

Then, he learned about other kinds of attraction different from romantic and he felt some relief.

He still doesn’t know how he feels towards Prismo. All he knows is he cares for him and has the most exquisite sex together.

Scarab still refuses to see Prismo as a partner. And Prismo is okay with that.

Prismo immediately accepted the fact that Scarab wouldn’t grant him a romantic relationship, but thanks to Scarab, he discovered other ways of bonding with him. and even with other people.

#adventure time fionna and cake #scarab fionna and cake #scarab the god auditor #human scarab #scarab fanart #headcanon #aromantism #aroallo #loveless aro #aplatonic #afamilial #the last three tags are barely mentioned but I decided to add them anyway #because representation matters #aroallo agenda #suddenly I realized a lot of my comfort characters wear mask or cover their faces #with their hair #or a paper bag #that surely must say something about me #well i'm having fun

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alteon77 · 1 year

Text

Updated Masterlist of Writing and Art

About the writer/artist: I like to write and paint. My current obsession is Sandman, but I enjoy most fantasy fandoms as well as anime (I think I’m on season seven billion of One Piece right now 🤣). I'm also weird as they come (and awkward, too), so just please ignore my oddball (coughTERRIBLEcough) sense of humor.

On a more personal note, I have PTSD and suffer from severe manic depressive episodes. Writing and art are my most familiar coping mechanisms, and I need them like I need oxygen. Seriously, there were times in my life that knowing I had to finish a story or a piece of art was the only thing stopping me from ending up dead. So, I don't take part in fandom drama. Having my peace and protecting my mental health are very big deals to me, and I won't risk those for anything if I can help it.

As for my writing, it ranges from short one-shots to ridiculously long novel series. I use third person POV (on longer series) as well as second person (on shorter things). I also try to always exclude physical descriptions when writing main character OCs and assign them nicknames to avoid using Y/N. I love to read Y/N fics, but writing them makes me feel like I'm at work. And who actually wants to ever feel like they're at work when they're engaging in a hobby? Definitely not me.

Lastly, there's usually more stuff on my AO3 page than I have listed here, because I forget to post it pretty often. Oops. I'll get around to moving it all over one day. Probably. Maybe.

Feel free to leave an ask if you want or just drop by my DMs. <3

Artwork links are at the bottom of this list, so if you're here for those, that's where they are.

Sandman 'Verse

All the Precious and Fragile Things (so easily do they break)

After banishing his lover from the Dreaming for her betrayal, Morpheus learns that she is pregnant with his child.

And that she’s been captured by a revenge-seeking Alexander Burgess.

What the both of them are unaware of is that this will set in motion a cascade of unfavorable events, causing a chain reaction that threatens the whole of existence itself.

PART I: All of This Past

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

PART II: These Tender, Loving Mercies

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

PART III: When It All Falls Down

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

PART IV: The Dark of War

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Epilogue

Sometimes He's Sweet

Morpheus hates the holidays.

As excited as she seems to experience the mortal holiday, he's… less so. Much less so. With the entire collective unconscious contained within him, this time of year can be wholly overwhelming, a miasma of too much red and green, too much worry, too much loneliness, too much excitement, too many similarly themed dreams, too many similarly themed nightmares, and far far too many holiday songs. It all bleeds out from the collective unconscious into his own mind, sticks there like weeping sap to a tree until he feels half-mad with the unrelenting presence of it, with his inability to get free from its cloying trespass upon his very being.

This is just a little sweet fluff for the holiday season. It takes place between chapters 19 and 20 of "All the Precious and Fragile Things". No spoilers here if you've read that far!

The Dog Debacle (or how best to sneak a dragon into the dreaming)

Morpheus' daughter gets a new dog.

Well..... kind of.

That Familiar Feeling of Family (or how Hob Gadling ended up as an uncle to his stranger's oftentimes feral children)

It's a pretty universally known thing that families are just strange. As Hob is quickly figuring out, however, this little fact is magnified by AT LEAST a billion when the family in question is Endless.

(A lighthearted story in which Hob Gadling finds out his stranger has married, makes friends with a homicidal maniac/ruler, and manages to become an exemplary uncle to a pack of magically mischievous children. Really, now all he has to do is convince everyone to stop calling his and Dream's weekly meetups "playdates", and then his life would be practically perfect.)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Maker, the Muse, and the Sundered Song

In his temple, what remains of Orpheus waits in trepidation. Something is changing. Something that he knows might alter the very fabric of the world as he understands it.

Finally freed from captivity, Calliope struggles to make any meaningful changes to the laws that saw her bound and taken in the first place. When the strange woman appears on Mount Parnassus and offers help, Calliope knows she would be a fool not to accept it. Even if she thinks that she's being lied to.

Meanwhile in the peace of the Dreaming, Morpheus grapples with guilt over his son's fate. As he basks in the love of his new children, he can't help but to regret his own failings where Orpheus is concerned.

And as for May, she's really just got a job to do. And her own traumatic issues to deal with. And if it's all hella awkward because she's having to work alongside her husband's ex-wife, she'll see it done anyway. There's even the small possibility that she might eventually admit to Calliope the truth about her identity. That is if she can ever actually work up the courage to say it aloud.

Chapter 1

Nothing in This Closet but Boots and a Boy

Morpheus is wildly protective of his daughter.

That's probably bad for the boy in said daughter's closet.

AU's and Other Stuff in the Sandman 'Verse

Of Exes, Hellhounds, and Waffle Fries

Morpheus shows up to rescue the woman he probably loves (though he won't admit it) from hellhounds and ends up getting roped into helping with her family. This is one of those extras that doesn't fit into the main story, but it's fun, so I'm posting it.

The Bizarre Breeding Habits of Anthropomorphic Personifications

It's a tale as old as time.

Two idiots fall in love. Two idiots fall out of love.

Neither one of them is expecting a baby to come along and derail their unhappily ever after.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Original Fanart

I like to play around with different styles and to try new things with my artwork. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. I'm still learning, and I am so far from being a professional that it's laughable. But I only post things that I think look decent or that I think others might enjoy.

The Lover's Argument (Morpheus x oc)

Oneiros (Morpheus in Grecian garb)

Because I could not stop for Death, she kindly stopped for me... (Regency era Dream and Death)

#sandman fic #morpheus x oc #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #sandman fanfiction #sandman oc #dream of the endless #dad!morpheus #dragons in the dreaming #preciousfragilethings #PFT #bbhap #fanart #fan art #alteon77 fan art

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xmissrogersx · 4 months

Text

“Video Games” | Joel Miller

tags: Post-Outbreak. Jackson life. Domesticity. Fluff. Ellie being the cutest daughter.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

pris masterlist

A summer day was passing through the small community of Jackson. The trees provided a pleasant breeze that urged the children to play in the streets before going to school; and the flowers in the windows of the houses provided colors that made them forget the darkness of the outside world.

-That's all for today, honey —Maria peeked down the hallway.

-Are you sure you don't need me? I can stay and help you.

-Of course not, you covered a lot of time when I had to take care of my neglectful husband —she exclaimed, making us both laugh.

I grabbed my bag and walked out of the cozy little library and walk to home. Home. After so many years, i have a home to come back. I crossed the only street to see him at the end of the driveway, sitting on the front porch playing his guitar next to Ellie.

-Paris! Look... —she played a few light chords, causing Joel to look up with fatherly pride.

-I knew you'd make it.

-I have to go tell Lily —she got up and walked out as if his life depended on it, but came back to give me a brief but tender hug.

-Thank you for helping me with my literature homework, I wouldn't have understood a shit what the author was saying if it wasn't for you —and before I could answer she ran back to her friend's house.

Excitement was getting the better of me again as I tried to keep my eyes from watering. I turned to see Joel with his gaze locked on me, which was getting darker as his brown orbs swept over me. I bit my lower lip in provocation.

-Come here, angel —he patted his thigh and extended his hand.

Taking refuge in his strong arms, smelling his pine scent mixed with the slight hint of scotch, as I snuggled into his chest was the definition of what I enjoyed most about my day.

-How was work? —he asked, stroking my leg, lifting the fabric of my dress slightly.

-Just me and a stack of books. I love it. I helped a couple of guys look for one...¡oh!, and one girl wanted to read a story about friendship and adventure. Please Joel tell me if I'm talking too fast —I covered my face in embarrassment.

His laughter echoed in my ears, sending a shock through my body. Every time he laughed I recorded his melody in my mind.

-I could never get tired of listening to you, darlin’. And what book did you recommend her?

-Little Women. I remember when I was little I managed to smuggle it out of the QZ zone. It helped me forget about all the crap outside for a while. I'd pretend I was one of the March sisters, and I'd play Pilgrims and decorate the house for the holidays.

-You can do it now —I cocked an eyebrow at her response.-Ellie would like it. She loves everything you do together, and Maria could help you with the costumes.

I reached up to his face to place a kiss on his chin, cheek and forehead, and then our lips met. I wanted him to know that I adored how he protected and adored me day by day. And that I was his, today and always.

-Joel Miller, you old softie —I said, earning a pinch on my thighs.

-Do you want to know what you're doing to this old man by wearing that dress?

My lungs had run out of air in a second, despite the rushing wind. That's what Joel was doing to me. I nodded slightly, playing along. I put my legs on either side of his lap, and rested my hands on his chest.

I unbuttoned his shirt, and caressed the scars that adorned his torso, kissing them one by one, as I lowered my hand to the buckle of his pants.

-You're playing with fire, princess —he moaned softly, making me feel powerful as I saw the effect I was having on him.

The county had gathered in the movie theater, leaving the place empty. What an excellent coincidence.

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depressedbagpipe · 6 months

Text

A Heartrender's Fire: ch. I

Tolya Yul-Bataar x Lantsov!ofc

Words: 3846 Warnings: tolya x tamar x irina being a chaotic trio, also sturmhond being sturmhond. canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol and drunk people, brief mention of SA at the end A/N: again, idk what this is, but this is helping me get back into writing after so many months, so enjoy!

Series Masterlist Next chapter

I: No shelter but me

Very few times had Irina Lantsov wished she had actually followed her brother’s advice and stayed at the ship. This was one of those.

She ducked before the drunken soldier could slash her neck open, forcefully kicking his legs and making him fall back, accidentally smashing into a table that broke into a thousand wooden pieces, and left the man unmoving on the ground.

Irina grimaced at the sight, but couldn’t dwell on it much before yet another man was hurled at her. She was used to the constant bar-fighting, bottle-smashing, and table-breaking, but it didn’t mean she liked it. Even though she was perfectly capable of standing on her own, the fire in her veins always called to her, begging to be used, and it always took a toll on her when she couldn’t let herself go completely. She was used to it, anyway. And this was just another bar fight.

The princess caught her twin companions with her eye, both of them on opposite ends of the bar, with fearsome looks on their faces and shining eyes as they too dodged and avoided the weak blows coming their way. The girl didn’t even need her axes; one look and the surrounding men cowered away. The boy was left alone in an instant too, his height too high and imposing that made even the drunkest know they would never be a match for the giant.

Irina expertly punched and smashed her way out of the tavern, avoiding the fallen traders, merchants, and sailors who had, unknowingly, chosen their fates as soon as they decided to launch themselves at the three Grisha.

“Well, that was fun,” grinned Tamar, once they had found refuge at the end of the street.

“So much for not bringing attention,” Tolya breathed out, not in exhaustion but in reprimand.

“For the record, he started it,” Irina defended herself.

Tolya counter-argued. “I don’t think Sturmhond will care about that, Ainthe.”

“Well, Sturmhond’s not here, is he?” Irina had a certain spark in her eyes as she spoke that made Tamar grin.

“And there’s no way he would know. Because we’re not gonna say anything, right, brother?” her gaze was lethal as both girls stared at the giant.

Tolya sighed in defeat, but eventually nodded his head. “Let’s just leave before they arrest us. One less bar we’ll be welcomed at.”

The girls grinned as they walked away in the other direction, leaving behind a mess of First Army officers and confused Zemeni citizens as they tried to explain how the entire tavern had ended up in shambles in a matter of minutes.

Irina took a deep breath as she looked at the street, with all the merchants and traders expertly scamming the many visitors the busy city received every day.

“It still baffles me how you don’t manage to gag every time you breathe here. The docks are nasty,” Tamar commented after eyeing the younger girl.

“It’s the smell of adventure, Tamar. I wouldn’t trade the taste of freedom for anything,” she replied.

“‘Let us appreciate life, for it only graces our fingers before it’s lost forever’,” Tolya recited, looking up at the clouds, a hand over his tender heart.

“Saints, not again,” Tamar groaned as Irina laughed, loving the little interactions she had with the twins.

“Always so delicate, Tamar,” Irina laughed, and even Tolya couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, we should go back,” Tolya’s statement was met with groans.

Irina complained. “Already?”

Tamar backed her up. “But it hasn’t even been three hours!”

“Sturmhond will kill us if he finds out what we did,” he reminded them.

Irina frowned. “You’re bigger than him.”

Tamar nodded. “You could take him.”

Tolya groaned. “Nobody’s gonna take anybody, alright?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Irina replied.

Tolya rolled his eyes. “The fun is that we all get to live another day, okay?”

Irina grinned, despite the constant bickering. As much as she liked traveling around new places, she ultimately loved the sea. Any excuse to go back to the Volkvolny, she’d take it.

It was only after they arrived at the harbor that they saw the First Army ship, unloading a bunch of boxes that would most likely contain weaponry. It wasn’t unusual for the presence of soldiers around the harbor and nearby taverns, but an entire legion?

The twins continued their bickering about bars and Fjerdans when a conversation between a First Army lieutenant and his soldiers made them stop in their tracks.

“Right, soldiers, listen up. Our fugitives are loose, but I have men blocking the roads, so their only way out is passage here, on a ship, in this harbor. We turn her in, and split the reward. But only if we stop them before they get on a boat. Is that understood?”

The officers yelled a chorus of ‘Yes, sir,’ before they disbanded, with the lieutenant walking back to presumably repeat the same orders to the smaller groups of soldiers perched around the harbor. Their uniforms were neat and put together, and the young faces of the soldiers almost made Irina shiver.

Tamar looked at her friends. “Sounds important… or dangerous. I can never tell the difference.”

She had one of her axes in her hand already, looking at it with care and mischief.

Tolya nodded, ignoring the sarcasm in her sister. “Definitely important. Come on.”

He grabbed his sister and pulled her back, knowing she was already going to pose some opposition.

“But–”

“No.”

Irina chuckled behind them, casting one last look at the army ship, hoping her disguise would be enough, and trailed after the twins.

–·–

Night had finally fallen over Novyi Zem when everybody was back at the Volkvolny. The harbor was empty, per Sturmhond’s request, and it was only a matter of time before a certain magic girl made its willing way up the ramp.

“I sure hope she falls for it,” Irina muttered under her breath. She was perched on the balustrade of the ship, looking at the crew as they loaded some of the boxes they had definitely not stolen from the First Army soldiers. “And how much longer is it gonna take? Weddle isn’t that big.”

“Maybe if you helped you wouldn’t be so bored,” Tolya pointed at her.

“Cute, but the second-in-command doesn’t load weapons; she uses them,” but their conversation was interrupted by Tamar.

“They’re here.”

Irina frowned. “They?”

And right on cue, a young couple appeared out of thin air and ran to their ship. The girl ran a bit forward.

“Hey, stop!” the crew looked at her. “We need a charter out of here immediately.”

Tolya and Tamar stood at the ramp, both receiving the girl and guarding the ship. Irina didn’t move from her place, but was looking down at the newcomers curiously, analyzing their every detail, just as her brother had taught her. The twins shared a look that Irina knew was a satisfactory one but waited for the couple to talk.

“I can pay,” said the girl again, bringing her hand to a small pouch by her hip and pulling out a beautiful hairpiece, one Irina recognized all too well. “It’s gold.”

Tamar took in her hand, feigning dubiousness, even bringing the object to her mouth and biting it to test its falsehood. With a shrug, she gave it to Tolya.

“That’ll do,” she said casually.

“Come on then, hurry up. I’ll take you to the captain,” he said after inspecting the hairpiece too, with another playful smirk on his lips.

The couple were quick to stand on the ramp, and Tolya was about to follow when the same lieutenant the trio had seen in the afternoon called after them.

“You, stop!” he was pointing at the couple.

Irina sat straighter in her place, her eyes dancing between the soldiers, counting in her head how many were pointing their rifles at them. Her hands stood close, ready to summon if she had to, but made no other move. Tamar and Tolya didn’t even budge. She grabbed one of her axes and spun it in her hand, taking dangerous steps towards the officer.

“You want to fight, Ravka? Hey?” her axe stood inches away from the lieutenant’s neck.

He recoiled and took a step back, fear evident in his eyes, pointing at the man whose hand had protectively grabbed the girl’s arm. Irina noticed that, because of course she did.

“That man is a deserter of the First Army. He belongs in our custody.”

But Tamar hadn’t come to play. By that point, the entire crew was staring at them, waiting for the next move. “Is that so? All right then.” She turned, looking up at Irina. “Ravka wants a fight!” with her shout, everybody stood, dropping whatever they were doing and getting into position. Irina, regardless, kept being seated down, knowing that Tamar alone could do as much damage as an entire army.

“I don’t want to escalate the fight with Shu Han.”

At this, Tolya grabbed his katana and walked beside his sister. “We’re not with Shu Han. We’re independent.”

“Maybe you save your bullets for the war, old man?” Tamar mocked him. Even though the tension was escalating quickly, everybody knew, they were no match for the crew of the Volkvolny. They had the higher ground. “First Army needs to know its place.”

Everything that happened later was a blur. The soldiers left, with a generous tip on behalf of the ship’s captain, and they were all soon on their merry way.

Irina and Tolya had taken the couple below deck, with the giant chatting happily about the majestic ship they all stood on and effectively distracting them of the speed the Volkvolny was sailing at away from Novyi Zem, and with Irina still looking at the newcomers with interest.

Opening the door to Sturmhond’s cabin, Tolya spoke.

“Request for charter, Captain.”

Irina also walked into the room, sharing a knowing look and a nod with her brother, before standing beside him on the other side of his desk, full of maps, papers, and a huge picture of the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, hand in hand, as the most wanted people in Ravka.

The boy walked inside decisively. “Immediate charter.”

The girl trailed after him. “He means we need to leave right now.”

Sturmhond fixed his blue coat, adopting the imposing posture he was known for. And went straight for the kill.

“Let’s be clear about two things. I don’t take orders in my own ship. And we’re already underway,” he pointed to one of the portholes on his right. “I’m glad you’ve joined us. Now, maybe you’d be so kind as to give the room a little light. After all, you are Alina Starkov,” he fixed his eyes on the girl. “A 20-million-kruge Saint.”

He grabbed his pistol and forcefully dropped it on the poster, with the canon staring directly at the young couple, every moment carefully planned out to let his guests know he hadn’t come to play, and that he had the upmost upper hand in the situation.

“Dead or alive.”

The silence that filled the cabin almost sent a shiver up Irina’s spine. The air was thick with tension, especially coming from Miss Starkov and her friend.

“No point in denying it, Miss Starkov. You are the Sun Summoner.”

She stood straighter at the mention of her title. “You’re right.”

She was quick to summon light with her hands, creating two smalls of pure sun that she held in her palms. Both Tolya and Irina tried to keep their composure, but they too believed in Saints. And they were standing right in front of one, who was coincidentally threatening Irina’s brother. Luckily for him, his too-clever fox face didn’t show any slight change. He whistled, still sat in his chair, lounging comfortably as if he was simply catching up with some old friends.

“Impressive. And it’s not often I say that.” To the untrained ear, his words would come out as sarcastic, almost venomous. But Irina knew better.

Alina’s words were quiet but stern. “Let us go. Or you’ll be out 20 million kruge and a ship.”

The captain stood once again, chuckling lightly. “While I’m well aware you could consign us all to the watery deep, you should really consider how far from the docks we are.” He casually poured some kvas into a couple of glasses. “Besides, I’m not handing you over to the Fjerdans,” he took both glasses and handed one over to his sister, who had made herself comfortable at the only empty corner of his desk.

Irina gladly accepted the glass, downing half of the beverage, still looking at the couple.

Alina frowned. “You’re not?” She even searched Irina’s face, searching for confirmation.

“Saints, no,” he stopped, checking with his guests. “Sorry, is it offensive to say that in the presence of a living Saint?”

Even Tolya shifted his weight at the captain’s words. The boy rolled his eyes, unnerved, and Irina shared a look with Sturmhond, both of them thinking the situation the most fun they’d ever had.

The captain sat back down, which made the boy follow his lead and sit on one of the chairs Sturmhond had on the other side of the desk. Alina stood behind him, only now Irina couldn’t tell who was protecting whom. Tolya kept guard by the door, frustrating Alina’s plan of escaping.

“Okay. What do you want with us then?” the boy tried to bargain.

Sturmhond wasn’t finished.

“With you? Nothing.” He eyed him down. “Honestly, I’m not even sure who you are.” Irina had to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape her lips. “But the Sun Summoner…” he pointed at the girl, looking at her as one would eye their prey. Because to Sturmhond, that’s what she was. “Well, you have to know you’re quite valuable.”

The boy leaned forward. “You just said you wouldn’t turn her in for a bounty, pirate.”

“Privateer.”

Irina rolled her eyes, being a little too used to listening to that conversation.

“Oh.” The boy humored him.

“And what I said was I wouldn’t hand her into the Fjerdans. I said nothing of the Kerch or Shu.” He loved playing with his food before eating it. “I paid a small fortune to empty the dock and make sure you got on my ship. And, frankly, I think the Fjerdans are severely undervaluing you.”

Alina nodded, with a flash of determination. “You’re right. They are.” She walked closer to the desk and leaned on it, having the upper hand. Or so she thought. “Because you’ll be able to ask the King of Ravka for twice as much.”

Both Irina and Sturmhond froze in place. Their looks weren’t taunting anymore; they were cold and unforgiving. But none of them let it show.

“You know the King?” the captain asked Alina, who fired back.

“I’m the Sun Summoner.”

Tolya was greatly enjoying the conversation at the back of the cabin, analyzing closely Irina’s reactions. She was rather shocked at Alina’s words but liked that someone else was trying to put her brother into place as if he wasn’t already running ten steps ahead of everyone.

“By all accounts, the First Army have now turned their sights on Grisha. Thanks to what you and your conspirator did in the Fold,” he looked down briefly at the paper.

Sturmhond’s sharp tongue had suddenly become poisonous.

Alina drew back. “The Darkling and I were not partners. You may believe otherwise, but once I tear down the Fold and reunite Ravka, the world will see I am not his ally.” Her voice almost broke. Even Tolya noticed it. And he knew she was telling the truth. “Help us and you’ll be rewarded.”

The Ravkan siblings were staring at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads. The prospect seemed impossible, but then again, a living Saint stood before them. They had seen stranger things.

“To tear down the Fold?” Sturmhond scoffed, but Irina still detected the hope that was now running through his brother’s mind. “And how do you plan on doing that exactly?”

Alina raised her head. “By hunting Morozova’s Sea Whip.”

“Alina.” The boy warned her, but she stopped him with her hand.

Instinctively, both siblings raised their kvas glass and took a long sip, mulling over their words. Sturmhond eyed Irina briefly.

“Well, I suppose if the Stag existed, the Sea Whip and the Firebird might as well,” he thought out loud, his gears turning. His eyes were glimmering. “You couldn’t do it with one amplifier, but two…”

“Unburdened by General Kirigan, under my own power,” Alina continued, also feeling the hope in the captain’s eyes. He leaned forward on the chair, looking down at his feet, the last traces of his plan finally coming together. “Will you help us or not?”

Sturmhond stood up again, never able to sit still for too long. He looked at his sister, who wore a similar face to him, her consent being the only other thing he needed to embark on the journey of the Sun Summoner.

“There’s adventure, danger, money? Now you’re speaking my language.”

The siblings downed their glasses at the same time on opposite ends of the desk, finalizing the deal with a bright smile.

– · –

“What is the difference between a privateer and a pirate?” Mal, Alina’s friend, whispered to her, but not low enough not to be heard by Irina, who walked behind them.

Sturmhond led the way, stopping occasionally to acknowledge the crew.

“Hey, Ainthe, need a light over here!” Irina quietly made her way to a fellow sailor who couldn’t seem to light the candle, and thankfully for her, her brother called everyone’s attention, which allowed her to blend into the crowd for a second.

Her fingers danced, and a light flame suddenly lit up the lamp the sailor needed. She retreated with a smile, knowing her brother was about to give a speech.

“All right, listen up, everyone! We have guests! The Sun Summoner and,” he turned to Mal, in the mood to mess with Alina’s grumpy companion. “Uh… You are?”

“Malyen–”

“A guest of the Sun Summoner!” Sturmhond interrupted him, much to Mal’s annoyance. “I expect you’ll treat them with all the respect I’ve come to know from you pack of liars and thieves.” The crew laughed at his words. Irina shook her head. He motioned them forward. “Come along, my darlings, come on, come on. Now, you can have the two in the back, it’s the most private suit we have.”

Sturmhond referred to the two fabrics arranged as hammocks, at the far end of the room and next to the stairs that led to the deck. It wasn’t cozy by any means; the room smelled of sweaty pirates, it was noisy and poorly lit, yet the siblings had grown accustomed to it, even if they slept at a different cabin. There was something about the mess that they could call home.

Alina eyed him wearily as she walked past him, leaving her things on a nearby table, under Mal’s attentive gaze.

“See you in the morning, Miss Starkov,” Sturmhond said with a leisure bow, quickly leaving them to their fates.

“Sweet dreams,” Irina finally spoke, sending them a smile in a much kinder way than her brother had done, and trailed after him.

– · –

“I hope you know what you’re playing at,” Irina frowned as she looked at her brother.

“You caused a bar fight?” he stormed at her.

“We have the Sun Summoner and now what? The Darkling and the entire First Army will be after us, Nikolai, and we’ll have no way of escaping then,” she crossed her arms.

“An officer could have seen you, Irina! Your face could now be printed in the papers! So much for having a fake identity!” Sturmhond threw his hands in the air as he walked around his cabin.

“The entire country is tracking her. We’re supposed to be under the radar and now you want to shelter the most wanted person in Ravka? And not only that but what will happen when we go back?” she went on.

“You can break as many necks as you want when there’s nobody around who could get you into trouble!

“We are gonna be in so much trouble regardless!”

“Can you both stop having two separate conversations at once, please?” Tamar interrupted.

Both siblings turned to look at her, who wore a bored face. Tolya stood behind her, with a simple grin, enjoying the fight between the princes. The four of them stood at the captain’s cabin, away from prying ears, going over the details of their next steps.

“Tamar, back me up on this,” Irina implored her closest friend.

Tamar sighed. “It is risky, Sturmhond. I stood guard until we left the harbor behind and didn’t see any other ship sailing around, but those two are hiding something.”

“Of course they’d feel weary around us; they’d be stupid not to,” Tolya released a breath.

Irina took in one. “Why does this feel like it’s the beginning of the end?” she asked no one in particular. “And how did you even know about the bar fight?” she asked her brother, but quickly turned to glare at Tolya. “Was it you?”

Tolya raised his arms in surrender. “Not me.”

“You forget I have ears everywhere,” Sturmhond took another sip of his glass, raising his eyebrows in mystery. The two of them had almost finished an entire bottle by that point of the night.

“You saw us didn’t you?” Irina squinted his eyes at him.

Sturmhond scoffed. “No, I didn’t!”

“He’s lying,” Tamar interjected.

“Okay, yeah, I saw you. The bar was just around the corner as I walked back. Which is how I bribed everyone into forgetting you three were ever there,” he confessed. “And again, Ainthe, you can’t start fights with everyone who crosses you!”

“He touched my ass, Sturmhond, you can’t expect me to stand there and do nothing!”

“He what?!”

Tolya suddenly appeared between them. “Alright, it’s best we stop. We’re all alive and well. And we’ll get to see another day for now, so let us sleep and rest and continue the fight tomorrow, okay?”

Nikolai and Irina shared a glance, a silent agreement both of them were too accustomed to. A silent way of communicating both of them had perfected over the years, which promised that they wouldn’t bring it back tomorrow. They knew they were too stubborn to allow the other to win, which would cause yet another endless source of bickering.

“Better be back on deck, then. We might need some fire,” Irina commented, taking one last sip of her kvas. “See you all in the morning.”

“Remember, just a spark, Fireball, not a whole bonfire,” Sturmhond called after her.

“Can’t make any promises!” Irina laughed one last time, before closing the door behind her, leaving an equally smiling Nikolai Lantsov on the other side.

Next chapter

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