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dancingtotuyo · 2 days

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15. holding my breath for you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt /comfort, gore, violence, TLOU II SPOILERS, Major Character Death

Notes: I would say sorry... but I'm not sure I am. I LOVE YOU ALL DEARLY THOUGH!

If you haven’t seen this beautiful commission of Joel and Reader yet, you should.

Words: 6125

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Dawn is just forming when you roll over to find Joel’s side of the bed cold. A pout forms on your lips before you can open your eyes. He’s due to set out on patrol this morning and didn’t wake you up. He’s supposed to wake you up before he leaves. It’s the rule.

You check on the kids to make sure they’re still asleep before trekking down to the stables. You pull the worn robe tightly around you as the wind whips at your hair and fresh snowfall threatens above you. You should’ve changed out of your pajamas, pulled on your boots and coat, but you fully intend to climb back into bed after this. They should still be there. Their patrol isn’t scheduled to leave for another 10 minutes. You find Joel in the stall at the end, diligently inspecting the saddle.

“You didn’t wake me up.” You cross your arms.

His head snaps up, a small smirk forming on his lips as he takes in your disheveled look. “You looked too cute this morning.”

“It’s the rule, Miller. We have rules for a reason. You always wake me up.” You put on a pout, but Joel sees through the teasing mannerisms, the stress that always creases your brow before patrols, especially overnight and snowy ones.

“I’m sorry.” His hands grab your waist, pulling you against his sturdy frame as he kisses your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Maybe.”

He kisses your cheek. You don’t give in. He kisses your other cheek, then your neck, behind your ear until you're laughing like you’re a teenager and not almost 50 years old. He chuckles. It’s the kind that could and has kept you warm through the most brutal of winters.

“Okay, Okay.” You throw your hands up in surrender. They settle on his shoulders. “I forgive you.”

“Good.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips. “They’re closer than we thought. We’ll probably be out there a few days, back in time for Willa’s dance recital. I promise.”

“You better.” You push down the anxiety that rises. This is your least favorite kind of patrol. “She’s been practicing nonstop.”

“I know.” Joel sees it in your eyes, hears it in your voice. His arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. “She’s gonna be the prettiest damn butterfly up there.”

You lean into his warmth. You don’t sleep well alone. The kids get grumpy without him around. His breath is hot in your ear. “I’ll be back before you know it, Sweetheart.”

You squeeze him tight and then his lips are on yours, soft and sweet.

Tommy clears his throat. “You ready to go? You don’t have time to take her back to bed, Joel.”

You flip him off. Joel gives you another sturdy kiss for good measure. Tommy rolls his eyes.

You walk with them to the front of the stables, Joel’s free hand in yours. “Be safe.”

“Always.” He squeezes your hand.

He’s about to mount his horse, but quickly changes paths. Handing Tommy his mare’s reins, he kisses you again until you’re both breathless. Tommy shakes his head, teasing grin on his lips from on top of his horse. Joel smiles at you like you hold his whole world because you do. “I love you.”

“Stay safe out there,” you say as Joel takes the reins back, mounting the horse. “I love you.”

“Always, Darlin.” He winks at you.

You look at Tommy. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Tommy chuckles. “As if I could start now.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “We’re losing daylight, little brother.”

You step back. Joel winks at you. “Love you,” and then they’re off.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. The words echo in Joel’s mind. There are too many of them. How did they all get here? Jackson is supposed to be too far out for this many infected. His mind races, desperately scanning for an out, while also trying to keep himself and Tommy alive.

Then the girl shows up, like a light in the darkness offering up a plan of escape. He takes it. Who wouldn’t? He wants to see his family again. He doesn’t ask or wonder what the girl is doing here with a group of friends. There’s no time for caution. It’s a way to get out- a way back. The only thing on his mind is getting back to you in one piece.

Once they’re safely behind the gate, inside the house- he knows this place. It’s yours- well your grandparents. It starts to sink in. He counts at least 8. He sees the looks between them when he introduces himself. Something's not right.

“Say, what brings y’all out here?”

The room is quiet. They’re staring at him like he should know them, but they’re too young to have known him before. He exchanges a look with Tommy. Then there’s a shotgun in his face. Before he can comprehend that this is the end, it goes off at his knee. Joel yells out in pain. He can see his femur. His arms are pinned. A tourniquet is placed around his thigh to keep him from bleeding out. Two of the other guys hold Tommy back.

The girl, Abby, holds a golf club. Of all the ways Joel imagined dying, this was not it. He can hardly hear her through the pain and the thoughts swirling in his mind. There’s no getting out of this. There’s no help on the way. This is the end. It hits him like a blow to the chest. There’s no seeing Willa’s dance retail on Wednesday. No more playing catch with Carter. No chance for Ellie to forgive him. No more holding you.

The words hurt as they come out. It feels like giving up because it is. “Just get it over with.”

His words seem to anger Abby. He doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t know who her friends are, but he knows he’s about to die. He knows the look in their eyes. He’s all too acquainted with revenge.

Then another thought pops into his head as his eyes move from Abby’s. It’s the dark stain in front of the fireplace. It could pass off as dirt and grime now. You spent years trying to get it out, but he knows it’s blood. Carter’s blood. He can’t let this happen here. He can’t give you another reason to hate this place. Another bad memory to tarnish the good ones.

“This won’t be fast.” The golf club collides with his ribs.

He coughs, sputtering as his lungs struggle to recover from the blow. Abby paces in front of him stalking like a predator does to its prey. Taunting him.

“Please,” he wheezes. “Not here. Somewhere…” he inhales deeply. “Somewhere else.”

Abby seems taken aback by the request.

“Anywhere but here.” It hurts to draw breath, but it’s getting easier. “Outside-“

“So you can freeze before I’m done? I don’t think so.”

Abby’s foot collides with his face. There’s the unmistakable crunch of a broken nose. Blood flows from it.

“Please. Not here.” He meets her eyes. The golf club strikes his lungs again.

Joel sees it. She won’t give in. He’s going to die here. His blood will mingle with your brother’s. He’s failed you.

He lets his brain take him away from what’s happening, but each blow brings him back to reality. He’s thinking about you, the last thing he said. Did he tell you he loved you? The next hit knocks the air out of him. He left the house without waking you up. He almost left without seeing you this morning. He’s pretty sure the next one hits a kidney. He thanks whatever god is there you woke up. That he got to see you one last time, feel your lips against his.

One of his ribs cracks.

He waited too goddamn long to tell you he loves you. He didn’t say it nearly enough in the short time he had.

Two more ribs shatter.

Maria comes over to the clinic after watching the blizzard roll over the mountains. It’s hitting Jackson now, but you're worried about the people sent out there today, the ones who sit at your family table in particular. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse left a few hours after Joel and Tommy

You’re organizing shelves to keep yourself busy, sure at least one person will wander in with frostbite shortly. It’s a good distraction from the other worries at hand.

“Willa ready for her dance recital?”

“I can barely get her out of the wings to go to bed.” A smile flutters over your lips.

Maria laughs. “I was talking to Rachel last night. She’s running around like crazy trying to make sure they have everything ready.”

“I bet… I’m glad they’re doing this though. It’s been an especially cold winter.”

You’d lost more patrols to the cold than to Infected this year. That hadn’t happened before.

“They’ll be okay,” Maria says. “Always are.”

The radio crackles to life before you can respond. Your stomach drops. Only two outposts have radios. You only use them in emergencies, preferring to stay off the radios whenever possible.

“Outpost 2 to base.” Dina’s voice filters through the static affected by the ensuing storm.

Your stomach drops. Maria picks up the receiver. “Base to Outpost 2- Dina is that you?”

“Maria?”

“Dina, is everyone okay?”

Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. It’s a stupid question. You don’t use the radios when everything is okay. Outpost 2 is a 4-hour ride from here. In the blizzard, it’s probably longer. You start putting your kit together.

“I don’t know- Jesse said Joel and Tommy missed their check-in.” The supplies in your hands clatter to the floor. You make eye contact with Maria. “We split up to look for them. I’m going to head toward the Baldwin Mansion to find Ellie. No trace of them this way.”

You freeze, heart stopping. Not there. Anywhere but there. You lock eyes with Maria. “You shouldn’t-” But her words set your resolve.

“I’m going.”

“It’s not safe-”

“It’s Joel and Tommy!”

You don’t want to. You swore you’d never go back there, but this is Joel. If you aren’t there to help him, you’ll never forgive yourself.

“Maria?” Dina comes through fuzzy as the blizzard interferes with the frequency.

You can probably make it there about the same time Dina will. It won’t be easy, but you can do it. You have to. You stuff a few more things into your backpack.

“We’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful, there’s definitely a colony coming in.”

“You too.”

Maria drops the receiver, looking at you. “I’ll go have them saddle up a couple of horses, check out a few firearms.”

You nod, focused on what to bring. You don’t have time to spare tears. Tears will freeze as soon as you’re outside and dehydrate you.

You meet Maria by the stables. She hands you a rifle and a pistol. It’s been a long time since you rode out like this. You both know the implications if you don’t come back, but you don’t hesitate when the gate opens.

Infected, burnt to a crisp, are pushed to the side and the gate is wide open when you arrive. It’s an eerie sight. Someone was here.

A horse whinnies in the distance. The snow has slowed down but still creates a cover. You pull the pistol from the holster at your thigh, adrenaline pumping. Two figures come into view.

“It’s us!” Dina calls out. Jesse rides beside her. You relax some, but your anxiety still rides high.

You find Joel and Tommy’s horses in the garage. It’s all wrong. They wouldn’t have left the gate open, not with all those infected out there even burnt up. You keep your guard up as you clear the house room by room. Jesse and Dina don’t ask how you seem to know this place like the back of your hand. You avoid the den, leaving it for last. You hope to hear their playful banter drifting from room to room, but the house is silent.

When you come to the den, you let the others take the lead. You’re struggling to keep your hands steady, and before you can enter the room, you hear their curses. You smell the blood before you see it. It’s splattered on everything around. Then you see him. Joel, your Joel, laying in his own blood. Your ears ring, pressure building between them. Your vision turns red. It’s so familiar and Carter’s limp body flashes before your eyes. A sob gets stuck in your throat. Maria’s arms are around you, keeping you upright before you realize your legs have given out. You stare at him. You wish you could stop looking at it, but you can’t as the sight sears itself into your memory.

For the first time, your prayer changes. Please, let him be dead. You shudder. Because if he’s not dead, he’s suffering, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Dina rouses Ellie on the other side of the room. Jesse helps Tommy into a sitting position. They seem okay, physically, but your brain barely comprehends it all. You look at him, battered and bruised. The bone of his right knee is exposed. It’s the work of a shotgun at close range. There’s a tourniquet around his thigh. Your stomach drops. This wasn’t some random hit. They wanted him alive as long as possible.

Your eyes drift around the room. A bloodied golf club lays in front of the fireplace. Joel’s fresh red blood drips over the fading remnants of your brother’s causing bile to burn in your throat.

“You have to do something.” Ellie looks at you. Tears streak her face. Anger and rage fit for a grown man rattle her small frame. “You’re the only one who can help him!”

You shake your head. The tears fall freely now. You try to get the words out, but it's like someone has shoved cotton down your throat. Your tongue flops uselessly in your mouth. “Ellie- I can’t-” Your words are scattered and disjointed. Maria cradles your head against her chest, “There’s-”

Joel groans. Your heart stops. The world goes silent. He does it again. This time, one of his fingers twitches.

“Oh my God…” Maria breaths.

Tommy curses under his breath. You feel it heavy in your chest. Fuck.

None of it’s from relief. It’s pure horror. Because you all know, he’s not coming back from this.

Ellie rushes forward. She touches Joel’s hand. You see the hope radiating as she locks eyes with you. “You can still save him.”

It’s a stab to your chest. “No, I can’t.”

You watch the light flicker from her eyes. “You have to! You fucking have to!” The tears flood her eyes. “C’mon, Joel. You have to get up! Fucking get up!”

She presses on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to his back. He groans out in pain. The knife in your chest twists.

She stops, choking on her tears. “Joel… please get up.” Her voice is weaker now. Her pants soak with dark red.

He grunts out something that sounds something like “Ellie.”

“You motherfucker.” She cries, but it’s an endearment. You catch the slight uptick of Joel's colorless lips. Ellie can’t stop crying. Trying to wipe the tears away, she leaves streaks of blood on her cheeks. Joel tries, but he can’t get anything else out.

You lean further into Maria’s grasp but she can’t squeeze you tight enough, only Joel could ever do that.

Something in Ellie snaps. The tears stop, and her breathing settles. It’s like watching a person go from human to robot, except she looks more like the girl you met 7 years ago, and less the angry young woman you’ve come to know. There’s a telepathy going on between them. You’ve seen it so many times before. Her hand rests on top of his. Her head nods like she knows what he’s trying to say.

“I forgive you.”

It knocks the air from your lungs. Tommy’s too. You know what it’s about. You know how big this moment is. The weight on your chest lightens a little bit.

Ellie looks up at you, and motions you toward them. “He wants you.”

She moves from Joel’s side, making space for you. You lay down next to him, not caring about the blood-soaked carpet around and the way it bleeds into your clothes. Gently, you run your fingers through his blood-matted hair. “Hey, Baby.” You’re careful not to cause more pain with your touch.

His eyes meet yours. You see the sparkle of tears in them. He attempts to talk again in a long slow slur. You can barely make it out. “I’m sorry”

The knife is pulled from your chest cavity, the pain so physical you shudder. His index finger moves over your left knuckle and your chest shakes again. You force a smile. You just want him to be at peace, “It’s okay, Joel.”

His head shakes briefly, barely noticeable, but you’re tuned in to his every movement, his every breath, his every heavy heartbeat. “It’s okay.” You kiss his hand, then his forehead. It’s sweaty and the tang of blood hits your senses. “We’ll be okay. You can let go.” You whisper it in his ear. A tear rolls down his cheek. You want him to let go so fucking badly. You don’t want to do what’s required. What you wouldn’t do for Carter.

His lips move but nothing comes out. It seems to frustrate him. Tears roll down your cheeks. He’s trapped in a body that doesn’t work but refuses to let him go. “Shhhh, I know, Joel. I know.” It’s the same voice you used to soothe your infants. “I love you.”

His hand squeezes yours gently. You give him a nod. He lets his eyes flutter closed. You lay there for longer than you should. It’s selfish, but you don’t think you’ll be able to do it if you don’t take your time. Finally, you sit up. Tommy comes over to say his goodbyes. You’re not paying attention, too focused on what you have to do.

His hunting knife is still strapped to his ankle like it always is. You look it over even though you’ve seen it a million times. It’s big enough. It’ll work. You just pray you can go through with it. Maria joins Tommy at Joel’s side.

“Jesse?” you say. “Will you get a blanket to cover him. There should be a big comforter in the hallway closet.”

You catch the confusion in his eyes. How would you know that? But he nods, following your instructions without questions. You lay the knife on the floor and catch Ellie staring at it. You see it in her eyes. She knows what’s about to happen. You hope she doesn’t blame you.

You can’t meet her eyes as you whisper it out. “It’s what-”

“I know.” She says quickly, her voice still wavering. “I know.”

“Tommy, help me get him on his back. I don’t-“ you choke up. You let the tears flow freely, but you will your medical training to take over. Except, this isn’t fucking medical care. It’s not even fucking palliative care. It’s cruel mercy. You aren’t trained in that. “I don’t think I can do it properly with him on his stomach.”

You, Tommy, and Maria work together to get him on his back as gently as possible. He cries out with each movement. It’s torturous. Each noise comes from a deeper part of his body. You swallow back bile each time. You have to get this right the first time. If you don’t, you’re not sure you can do it a second.

Jesse drops the comforter beside you. It’s the one with little pink rose buds, the one you always used to sleep under the stars, big enough to curl around you like a cocoon even as a grown adult, the one you and Joel picnicked on when you visited last. Your fingers run over it with the memories- so many nights spent under the stars dreaming of the future. It provides you with little comfort now. It's purely practical, thick enough to absorb whatever blood Joel has left in him. More memories washed in blood.

Ellie is huddled in the corner, back turned to it all. Dina is at her side. Maria never takes her eyes off you. Finally, he’s on his back. You unbutton his flannel, use the knife to cut open his under shirt. Deep, dark bruises mare his skin. You can see where they targeted the most. Places to inflict maximum pain and prolong suffering. You focus at the place between his left ribs. His breathing is labored. You hear it with each breath, see it in the rise and fall of his chest. The spot on his chest taunts you, dares you to do it.

You turn to Maria. “As soon as it’s out… cover him with the blanket.” You don’t want to see the wound.

You look at his face. You think he’s unconscious now. You pray he doesn’t feel it, hope his brain has taken him away from reality. Pressing your forehead to his, you tell him you love him again. There’s no response and no indication he hears you.

You steady your breathing. “Ellie?” You look to her for permission.

She barely meets your eyes but nods.

You look back to Joel. You mentally clear the blood from his features. He looks peaceful now. You memorize his face as you know it, not how it appears. You look down at his ribs again. You touch the space and count with shaking hands.

You glance at the 17 year old stain reminding you of the way you failed Carter. You won’t fail Joel. You can almost feel your brother’s ghost at your side, assuring you this is the only option, assuring you there’s truly no chance to save the man you love, and it comforts you. This place homes your best memories and your worst nightmares. You wonder if Joel’s ghost will stay here, pacing the halls with Carter’s or follow you home.

Then you recount the ribs, making sure you get it right through the blur of your vision. You feel his heart beating under your hand, the very heart you’re about to stop. You can do this…

There’s a hand on your shoulder, another on your wrist. Tommy crouches behind you. He takes the knife without a word. His eyes say it all. He’ll do it. You don’t have to bear the weight of it. You should tell him that he doesn’t have to bear it either, but you don’t because the truth is you’re just relieved you don’t have to.

You lay a finger on Joel’s chest. Tommy’s replaces it. “Make sure-”

“I know.” Tommy’s eyes meet yours. You’ve never really contemplated how much they look like Joel’s until now. It’s reassuring. There’s a piece of Joel in him. “Just be with him.”

You nod silently, Joel’s words echoing in your mind. “If it’s something else that gets me… where I’m not putting you in danger… I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Not a gunshot. That’s all.”

You scoot up so you’re only able to see his face. His hand feels cold under yours. You push his hair back again. Ellie joins you on the floor. You can tell she’s barely holding it together.

You feel Tommy prepare himself behind you. You know when he goes for it, sliding Joel’s hunting knife in with the precision of an expert. You hear it slice through skin and muscle. It’s piercing, playing on repeat in your head. Joel grunts with it, moans once it’s withdrawn.

Tommy drops the knife like it's on fire. Maria settles the blanket over Joel’s body.

Your eyes never move from his face. He gasps, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon. It’s awful. It makes your stomach curl and twist and your chest rattle. You want to curl up and die with him at the mere sound of it. It feels like it will never stop, but you talk him through it. You hold Ellie close to you in one arm and cup his face in the other as you repeat the words from earlier.

It’s okay.

You can let go.

We’ll be okay.

I love you.

You make sure your voice is the last thing he hears… and then finally, mercifully, he stops breathing. As much as your heart throbs, you feel like you can finally breathe again because he’s no longer trapped in a body that won’t work, no longer in pain. He’s free.

You lean down to kiss his cheek. You whisper in his ear. “Say hello to Sarah for me.”

You give it time. Watching his face, finger tips tracing his features. Denial brushes through your mind, expecting him to open his eyes, to smile, to laugh. It doesn’t happen. It won’t happen ever again.

When you stand, it hits you like a freight train. Your breath hitches. You remember this from last time.This can’t happen, not here. You bolt from the room, putting as many walls between you and the others as possible. You don’t care how cold the furthest bedroom- your bedroom- might be, your skin feels like it’s boiling, melting from your bones.

You’re barely across the threshold when the sob leaves your body. It sounds otherworldly, but you’ve heard it before, too many times. You’re all too familiar with it all. When will it end? When everyone you love is dead? Taken from you in different horrific ways each time?

Maria’s arms wrap around you and the two of you sink to the ground. You don’t quiet your mourning for her as it rattles the walls. It’s still not far enough. Your muted cries haunt the rest of the group until your voice gives out.

You stay the night at the mansion. It’s too dark to try and make it back to Jackson. Tommy and Jesse move Joel’s body to the garage where it’s colder. Maria builds a fire in the room that’s not soaked in his blood.

You ignore the curious looks when you navigate the house with familiarity and manage to rummage up new clothes to replace blood-soaked ones. Ellie wears your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt from high school. You used to wear it all the time until you lost it, stuffed into the bin of clothes you never opened following outbreak day. It would be too small for you now, but it layers over the clean long sleeve shirt she found. It’s one of Grandpa’s old flannels for you. You’re thankful you never dug into this bin when you lived here.

Before you leave, you stop under the old oak tree where the small bounder marks Carter’s shallow grave. You promise him you mean it this time when you say you’re never coming back. You’re tempted to burn the place to the ground, but it’s too good of a resting spot for patrol when they get stuck, protected by the gate.

When you get home, you care for Joel’s body. There’s no embalming process. Usually you bury your dead the day after, but the ground is frozen solid. You’ll likely have to wait a few weeks to bury him. He stays in the small enclosed room off the back of the clinic where it’s cold enough to keep him.

It’s after dinner time Monday night when you finally drag yourself up the front steps. You’ve been avoiding it. You don’t want to go home without him.

Carter and Willa play Jenga with Morgan. You’re not sure you can tell them, so you watch your children through the front window. You memorize their smiles and the light in their eyes before this cruel world marks them with its claws. Willa knocks the tower over. She seems to enjoy it. His sweet little Wildflower. 2 months shy of her 4th birthday, will she remember him? Or will he be like a dream? Another ghost that haunts the footnotes of her life? Tears stream down your neck.

“They don’t know yet?”

You spin around to find Ellie. She has dark bags under her eyes, shoulders slumping. “No, I just got home. I’ve been at the clinic all day.”

Ellie nods, peering into the window beside you. The two of you watch as they rebuild the tower and the game starts all over again. “I forget how much she looks like him.”

You manage a smile. “I’m not convinced she has a drop of my DNA in her.”

“Not with that fucker’s genes.”

A laugh interrupts your tears. It sounds so normal coming from Ellie. She wears a dutiful interpretation of her signature smirk. You could hug her, but you don’t. She’s not the most touchy feel y person and you imagine she’s had her full share the past 24 hours. Has he really been gone that long now? Yes. Somehow, it feels like it’s been years, yet you still expect him to walk toward you at any minute.

You go inside without another word. Ellie follows, and you’re thankful for it. It feels right to have her there.

“Mommy!” Willa gasps as soon as you open the door. She runs for you, still dressed in her butterfly costume.

You pull her into your arms, squeezing her tightly. “Hey sweet girl.” You kiss her cheek. You hadn’t realized how badly your arms ached to hold your babies.

“Where’s Dad?” Carter asks.

The question stops your heart. You can hear it in his voice. He knows. He’s barely 10, but he’s seen this in other people so many times before, and he’s put the pieces together. Death isn’t a foreign concept to him. He probably knew the moment he saw Tommy come home with Joel nowhere in sight. Carter keeps space between you. “Where is he?”

Willa squirms in your arms like she's looking for Joel now too. You let her slide to the ground.

“Carter…” You move closer.

He steps backwards. You see the tears sparkle in his eyes bringing out your own. Both your children favor their biological fathers more than yourself. It slices deeper tonight. You manage to steady your voice.

“Dad had a really bad accident while he was on patrol-“

“You’re lying! He has to come back! He always comes back!”

Maybe one day you’ll tell him all of it. Someone did this on purpose, but you don’t know who or why. He’s too young. You won’t have him overrun with the idea of revenge. Tommy is already plotting after the group that did this.

You shake your head, tears falling again. You don’t know if they’ll ever stop. You go to your son, desperate to hold him, but he dashes upstairs, bedroom door slamming behind him. Do you go after him?

Willa’s arms wrap around your leg. You fall to the stairs, placing her in your lap. Your body is exhausted. Ellie sits down next to you. “Where did daddy go?”

You’ve been wracking your brain all day on how this will all make sense in her young mind. “You know how Daddy talks about Sarah?”

She nods. You push back her soft brown curls. The texture has started to change in the past six months. It feels less silky and fine, and more like his. “He said she died, but she watches over us now.”

“Yeah… that’s right-“ you bite your lip. “Daddy went to be with Sarah.”

“When is he coming back?”

Ellie cringes in your periphery. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Willa… Daddy died. He can’t come back.”

“Not even for my recital?”

“No.”

You’re still not sure she gets it, but you see the tears well up in her eyes. Joel promised her he would be there. He always kept his promises. You want her to know that her Daddy didn’t abandon her, but it’s difficult to get that across. To her, Sarah is an abstract. Joel is concrete. The thought sends a pang through your chest.

“You know how your heart beats?” You put her hand over your heart. She nods. “That means you’re alive, and me, and Ellie, and Carter. We all have beating hearts.”

“I listen to Daddy’s when he rocks me.”

You smile. The vision of Willa and Joel passed out in the rocking chair is one of your favorites. “Daddy’s heart got really hurt.” The slice of the knife echoes in the caverns of your mind. “It stopped beating.”

His wheezing plays in your ears.

“He stopped being alive?”

Joel’s final strangled breath carves into your brain.

You nod carefully. “Yes, once that happens, it can’t be fixed.”

She sits with it for a minute. You see the wheels in her head turning.

“He didn’t have a choice.” You wrap one of her curls around your finger. “He would choose to be alive with us if he could.”

“I miss him.”

She lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her head.

“Me too, Wildflower.”

On Wednesday night, the seat beside you remains empty, like everyone is purposefully keeping it that way. You’re not sure if you like it. Is it a sign of respect toward Joel? Or are they afraid to be near you? Death comes in threes. It must be contagious.

Carter sits between Ellie and Dina. They were sitting next to each other when you arrived. Carter still doesn’t want to talk to you, but he will talk to Ellie.

The lights dim for the recital. It’s more of a silent movie of sorts. Rachel plays the piano. The music changes throughout the scenes. You spent all last night trying to get a grass stain out of Willa’s butterfly costume. You’re not sure if it was the soap or the tears that removed the last of it.

You reach over on instinct, expecting your fingers to meet a denim clad thigh, but your hand falls to the wooden chair instead. Your eyes drift out the window. You can see the clinic at the end of the street. You know exactly where he lays, even from the outside. Everything around you blurs. You feel pieces of yourself slowly drift into the atmosphere bit by bit.

Maria drops into the chair next to you. She grabs your hand squeezing it between both of hers. “Hey, I’ve got you” The pieces come back, snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle. “Look,” She points. “Willa’s almost up. You don’t want to miss it.”

You’re back, but Maria doesn’t let go. She anchors you. She knows exactly what to say to do it. She’s an expert in it by now. You don’t see the worry in her eyes, the guilt etched in the lines of her forehead. She doesn’t say it, never expresses the guilt she carries over what happened. If only she had asked someone else to take the shift. It’s the second time she’s failed you.

Willa flits and flutters across the stage. In the context of the play, you’re pretty sure she’s actually supposed to be a fairy, but you know that Willa was only interested in being a butterfly. The costume is the same either way.

She breaks character for a moment, loudly telling one of the other kids they are not where they are supposed to be, and then continues on as if nothing happened. There’s the rumble of laughter and Willa wears a smug smile.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, but when you turn to look, no one is there. You can still feel the pressure on your shoulder. Then you hear it just behind your ear, That’s our Wildflower right there. It brings tears to your eyes again.

With one last exuberant twirl the magical fairy, or in this case butterfly, heals the land.

You squeeze Maria’s hand as people stand to applaud. You manage to get to your feet in time to watch your daughter take a bow and then another and another. She’s soaking in the attention. It tugs a smile to your face.

When Willa bounces off the stage, you pull her in tight. “You were so good. I’m so proud of you, Wildflower.”

She smiles brightly. It's a relief in one of the worst times of your life. She gets close to your ear, like she’s telling you a secret. “I think Daddy saw it. I think him and Sarah watched it together.”

You smile back at her. You know they did. “Me too.”

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #woman (joel miller)#the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction

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wholoveseggs · 2 days

Text

Rules {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?

♡♡ THANK YOU so much for all the love for this series!!! I had so much fun reading all your comments and inbox messages. Enjoy! and please don't hate me for the ending...♡♡

10.7k words {sorry not sorry} - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, smuttttt, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, KLAUS, a little Katherine cameo, ritual sacrifice, death, murder, pain, pain and more pain...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

Information, of all things of value in this world, is most precious. Katherine had learned that the hardest of ways.

She had been trying to keep tabs on everyone, especially the Salvatore brothers, who were the cause of her most recent headaches. Dwelling on the irony of that made her skin itch, considering the amount of time she had spent causing them grief.

She was sipping on a glass of bourbon, trying not to think about how her plans were crumbling. She hoped to charm Elijah, get him to protect her like he did last time.

But when he found her, he wasn't the same. He didn't have the same softness about him, the gentleness in his eyes. He was harder, angrier, more ruthless. She supposed that was her fault, she wondered how her life would have turned out had she trusted him...

She didn't regret her choice, she knew it was worth it, she always chose her freedom first, nothing else mattered.

And she had almost gotten away, if only she had a little more information.

But now, here she was, back under the thumb of the man who had taken everything from her.

Klaus.

"Please, just...kill me. I've told you everything that I know," she pleaded, not sure why she was bothering.

He never showed her mercy, but she couldn't help but hope he would spare her, if not for old times sake.

"You see, I believe that you believe that, but what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Hmm? Anything? Tell me." He said, his voice was calm as he compelled her to speak the truth.

"When I was at the Salvatore house, I saw their sister, drugged and unconscious. They were keeping her that way,"she said, her voice trembling, she couldn't control the words that came out.

Klaus smiled, the wheels turning in his mind, "Any theories on why they would do that to her?"

Katherine had an idea, but she had no proof. She had no idea what Damon was up to, but he always had a plan.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, she didn't like where this was going.

"C'mon, you have always been a clever little minx," Klaus purred, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, it made her feel sick.

"The only reason I can think of is to stop her from doing something," Katherine said, her mind racing, thinking back to everything she had seen, and the things she had missed.

Klaus grinned, his hand moving down to her throat, he began squeezing the air out of her.

"You can detect weaknesses like a bloodhound can sniff out a fox, so tell me, sweetheart. Is this your best guess or are you holding something back?" He asked, his fingers tightening.

She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperately trying to loosen his grip. "She's... Loyal to a fault, to those she loves, she tried to kill me in the 1800s for messing with her brothers,"

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of amusement, "So you think she's shifted loyalties? To whom?" He let go of her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

"I don't know... The only other players in town are the wolves... There's no reason for her to side with them..." She paused, her mind racing.

"There's only one other option," she said, her face contorting into a grin.

"Who?" Klaus growled, his patience was growing thin.

"Elijah.”

You woke in a strange daze, unsure of how much time had passed. You didn't feel rested, in fact, you felt sluggish.

You sighed softly, trying to gather your strength. Your mind was slightly hazy and you felt hungover. Your limbs were not responding to your commands, causing you even more panic.

Your eyes finally opened, adjusting to the light. You were in your own bedroom, laying on your bed, the soft hum of your ceiling fan was the only thing you could hear.

You had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you slowly looked around. There was a pile of empty blood bags on your nightstand, a cup full of vervain, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon. It was clear that someone had been here taking care of you and keeping you sedated, judging by the empty bottle it was most likely Damon.

You rolled out of bed, stumbling across the room. Your legs were weak, and you were still groggy. You managed to make it to the door and pull it open.

It was eerily quiet, the ticking clock in the hallway was pounding in your ears. You walked towards the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, hoping to make it all the way down without falling.

As soon as you made it to the bottom, you were overcome with a wave of nausea and dizziness. You grabbed the banister, closing your eyes, waiting for the spell to pass.

Fuzzy, half formed memories came flooding back to you. Elijah was gone, your brothers had stabbed him, and then they had drugged you, so you couldn't wake him.

You remembered Damon coming into your room, holding a blood bag up to your lips, forcing you to drink.

You remembered Stefan, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair off your forehead, telling you to sleep.

You remembered Elena, cleaning your face, her voice low and gentle, she had been crying, apologizing.

Someone had carried you outside, then Elena invited you back in. The house was under her name now, a new defense measure added. You wondered who they were trying to keep out, had Klaus finally come to town? Fear suddenly gripped you... Where was everyone?

You slowly made your way to the basement door, taking the steps one at a time, trying to ignore the overwhelming need to puke.

Once you were down in the basement, you looked at Elijah's body, lying in the same position you left him. His clothes were now charred and tattered, the pillow and blanket were gone, probably burned to ash.

You moved closer, collapsing on the floor next to his body. He looked the same, gray, his eyes closed, his hair in disarray. You brushed his hair back, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

"lijah," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "I know we agreed, if anything happens, we would say goodbye and walk away, but I can't, not this time. You're a part of me, I don't think you even realize how much you have come to mean to me."

You looked at the dagger in his chest, weighing the consequences of pulling it out. You didn't know what would happen if he woke up, he could rip you to shreds, or he could pull you into his arms, and hold you until you stopped crying.

There was a fifty-fifty chance he would do the latter, and that was good enough for you. Your fingers curled around the blade and you pulled it out. Then you dropped it onto the floor, letting it land with a metallic thud.

Nothing happened.

Elijah was still.

You leaned down and pressed your ear to his chest, listening.

Nothing.

"Please," you said softly, kissing his cold cheek. "Please wake up."

You returned to laying your head on his chest, your fingers curling in the fabric of his suit.

You closed your eyes, tears running down your face, holding in a breath. Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Suddenly, his heart sprung to life, beating rapidly. You sat up quickly, looking down at him, his eyes were open.

You could hardly believe it, he was looking up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his mouth open. Then he sat up, gasping for air, looking around the basement wildly.

He was in clear agony, struggling to breathe, he looked at you with anguished eyes, the color returning to his face.

"I can't...I can't be in this house." He rushed to his feet, falling over himself, stumbling his way to the exit.

You limped out of the basement and upstairs, racing after him. The moment he got outside, he collapsed on his knees, taking in deep breaths.

You knelt in front of him, safe behind the threshold of the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," You said, your voice shaking. "I had no idea. They drugged me and I couldn't..."

"Y/n," He interrupted, his eyes finding yours, they were full of pain. "I...need a moment,"

You nodded, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. He looked awful, his clothes were ruined, and his skin was gray and dull. He was clearly starving.

You took the dagger and rolled it past the threshold, it hit his knee and he grabbed it, holding it in his hand. He glared at the blade, then looked up at you.

"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "So much for rule three,"

"You would have done the same for me," you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips.

He slowly got to his feet, his skin still a bit gray, his face tired and worn. He held his hand out, inviting you to step over the threshold, which you did, allowing him to pull you into his arms.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder.

"This is a bad idea," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I know," you said, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't respond, simply holding you against him, his breathing steadying.

"Do you want to get out of here?" You asked, looking up at him, a sad expression on his face.

"That is an excellent idea,"

Your phone would not stop ringing.

You had been ignoring it for the last few hours. Elijah had taken you to a luxury hotel the next town over, far enough from Mystic Falls so you didn't have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.

You were sitting on the bed, eating some room service, watching him try on some suits he had compelled the concierge to bring to the room.

"Who keeps calling?" Elijah asked, looking at you over his shoulder, buttoning a shirt.

"Damon and Stefan," You replied, sighing, "they are probably worried."

"Why haven't you answered?" He asked, frowning.

"Because... I'm mad at them," You admitted, picking at the food on your plate. "After what they did to me,"

"They were protecting themselves, and you," he said softly, putting his suit jacket on, and smoothing it.

You were surprised by him defending them, considering they had literally killed him.

"It doesn't matter, I can't face them right now," you said, shaking your head, "I'll just ignore their calls, it's the best I can do."

A text from Damon popped up on your screen, in full capital letters, it read:

‘WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.’

You grumbled and picked your phone up, ready to block him when you got another text. This one was from Stefan:

‘Klaus is in town, in Alaric's body. Please just let us know you are okay,’

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the message.

Elijah had been looking at you and saw your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing," you said, showing him your phone, his face darkening when he saw the texts.

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was contemplating his next words very carefully.

"What?" You asked, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can't do this," he said, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."

"What?" You said again, standing up and walking over to him.

You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was avoiding your gaze, but his arms moved around your waist, pulling you against him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, searching his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.

"Rule two, darling," he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands caressing your back.

"Don't do that," you said, your voice breaking, your chest ached, you were holding back tears. "I don't care about the rules, I just want you,"

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his breath hitching, his voice low. "If Klaus finds out about you and I, he will kill you,"

"Why? Why do you want to kill him? Who is he to you?" You asked, wanting answers, your hands curled into fists on his chest.

"I've known him since I was a child, he's my brother," he said, pulling back, so he could look you in the eyes.

You blinked, not believing what he was saying.

"But..." you stammered, not sure what to say.

He swallowed hard and began telling you all about his life. His family, what life was like in the viking age, being turned vampire, learning his mother had been unfaithful, that his beloved brother was a bastard.

"I never saw him any different, none of our siblings did," he said, his voice wavering.

You could tell this was a difficult subject, you squeezed his hand, reminding him that you were there.

"We learned of our mother's infidelity in the worst way possible..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.

"You don't have to," you said, scooting closer, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head against yours, his fingers stroking your arm. "I've done many terrible things, but what plagues me the most is what I did to Niklaus,"

"What did you do?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him, his brown eyes were watery.

He shook his head, unable to vocalize it, and you didn't push him. You held him, waiting, knowing it would take time.

He eventually continued, his voice low, filled with shame. "My mother was a powerful witch, she cursed him. She bound his werewolf side, made him weaker, unable to turn. She used the full moon to make it possible to break the curse."

You frowned, thinking over what he was telling you. It didn't make any sense, Klaus was a vampire, not a werewolf.

"I thought..." you said, hesitating. "I thought he was a vampire,"

"He is," Elijah said, nodding, "he's also a werewolf, but that side of him bound,"

He continued his story, explaining how Klaus was different, that he was a hybrid. The first and only of his kind, half vampire, half werewolf.

He told you how Klaus was angry and resentful, and that he had good reason to be. That he and Klaus had spent many centuries trying to break his curse, to free him from his chains.

"So the ritual isn't about werewolves or vampires being freed from their curses," You said, the realization hitting you.

"No, it's not," He admitted, frowning. "It's about my brother,"

You were quiet for a long time, processing all of the information. So Klaus had no intention of freeing the werewolves or the vampires, he just wanted to be free.

"So why do you want to kill him?" You asked, looking at Elijah.

He sighed, rubbing his face, clearly struggling.

"I have other siblings, and he took them from me," He said, his tone was strained, the words catching in his throat. "I've searched for decades, and I can't find them,"

You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I've lost all hope of ever finding them," he said, his jaw clenching, he looked at you with his dark tear filled eyes. "All I have now is my revenge,"

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. If you lost your brothers, you would burn the world down to avenge them.

"What is the ritual supposed to do?" You asked, curious, wanting to learn more.

"He has to kill a werewolf, a vampire, and a doppelganger. Their blood is necessary for the ritual," he explained, his fingers gently running along your arm. "When it's complete he will be weakened, then I will kill him."

"Elena is innocent... Elijah I'm sorry but you can't let him hurt her," you said, frowning.

He looked away from you, his brow furrowing, "She has to die, but not permanently,"

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"A few centuries ago, there was another doppelganger, I grew some affections for her... I found a way to keep her alive," he said, his tone was flat.

"Katherine," you said, the name leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He nodded, "I will give Elena the elixir I acquired for Katerina. It will save her,"

You let out a sigh of relief, at least Elena would be safe.

"To kill your brother, it's not an easy thing to do," You said, leaning your head against his. "Are you really prepared for what it means?"

"The full moon is in three days," He said, changing the subject, his expression was grim. "The ritual will happen then,"

"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation.

You sat in silence, neither of you knew what to say.

"Sometimes there's honor in revenge," he said, his hand resting on your leg. "And sometimes you just need to put down a rabid dog, no matter how much you once loved him."

"Eli-," You started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted against him, forgetting what you were about to say. He had this way of silencing you, and it drove you crazy.

"No more talk of the ritual," he said, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours. "I want to enjoy the time we have left,"

You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, and he kissed you again.

Elijah watched you sleep, the sheet barely covering your naked body. His fingers traced patterns along your skin, his touch light as a feather.

He was trying to ignore the dread, the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.He needed to plan, to prepare for what he had to do, but the only thing on his mind was you.

He should have known better, he was foolish to have ever gotten involved with you. When he came to Mystic Falls he told himself no weaknesses, no distractions, and yet here you were.

"Stop watching me, it's creepy," you mumbled, rolling over, the sheet falling off of you, revealing your naked form.

"Apologies," he said, unable to help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"I forgive you, I know I'm irresistible," you said, yawning, stretching, your body arching.

He chuckled, leaning over, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"

You gave him a curious look, your fingers tangling in his hair, "That depends,"

"Would you stay here, and not interfere with the ritual?" He asked, his brow furrowing, his tone was strained.

"Elijah-," You said, sitting up, the sheets pooling around your waist.

"Please," he begged, his eyes softening.

"But Elena-," You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, his hands cupping your face.

"Your brothers will keep her safe, but if you were involved... I would lose my mind with worry," he admitted, his eyes filled with turmoil.

"I thought this was just physical?" You teased, hoping to ease the tension.

He smiled and shook his head, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I love you," he said it so softly you barely heard it, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a lie, but there was none. He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, the sincerity in his words and his eyes was evident.

Your words caught in your throat, a lump forming. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, you wanted to, but it was like there was a block.

You pressed your lips to his, your tongue sliding past his lips, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all of your emotions into it.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing your jaw, "Say it,"

"I can't," You whispered, your voice wavering.

He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I love you miss Salvatore, and it frightens me more than anything ever has,"

"Elijah," you said, cupping his face, your heart aching. "I... I love you too,"

He pulled you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You were panting, the kiss was heated, needy, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You felt his erection against your inner thigh, hard and ready, and you ground against it.

"I love you," you repeated, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you closer.

"I love you," he replied, his lips attacking your neck, sucking, biting, marking you as his.

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his length, sliding your hand along his shaft, positioning him at your entrance.

You lowered yourself down, desperately needing to feel connected to him, his fingers dug into your hips as you sat fully in his lap, taking him deep inside of you.

He moaned, his eyes closing, his head tilting back, you leaned forward and kissed his neck, your fangs scraping along his skin.

You rolled your hips, slowly, taking him in and out of you, his breath hitching with each movement. You grinned against his skin, loving how you were making him react.

"That's it, take what you need," he said, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, keeping you close to him.

"I love you," you breathed, your voice a soft whimper, as you sunk your fangs into his neck.

His blood flooded your mouth, warm and sweet, and you sucked, feeling his pulse beating against your lips. He tasted like pure power, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He moaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping it tight. You were riding him, moving your hips in a fluid motion, grinding down onto him, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside.

You pulled back, his blood dripping from your lips, his hands were on your ass, guiding your hips. He kissed you, biting down on your bottom lip and tasting you. Your blood mixing together, it was the most erotic thing you had ever done.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his voice ragged, his eyes dark with lust. "So beautiful, and mine,"

"Yes, all yours," you moaned, grinding down harder onto him.

You felt his hand moving between your ass cheeks, his finger finding your puckered hole, slowly pressing into you.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, it felt so good, him inside of you like this.

"I want you to cum for me, my sweet little love," he said, his voice soft and gentle, his finger moving deeper.

You moaned, clutching at his chest, your nails raking along his skin, drawing blood. The combination of him filling you, his finger, and the taste of his blood in your mouth sent you over the edge.

You let out a long, low moan, against his lips, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.

He grunted, his eyes fluttering closed, he bit his lip, trying to muffle his moans, and he came deep inside of you.

Your body was trembling, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his skin slick with sweat, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air.

You pulled back and kissed him, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"After this is all over, will you come with me?" He asked, his hand stroking your cheek.

"Where would we go?" You asked, smiling.

"Anywhere, preferably somewhere with a beach and sunshine," he replied, his fingers running through your hair.

"It's a date," you said, nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent.

"A date?" He chuckled, his fingers tickling your sides, you giggled and squirmed away from him. "That's new for us,"

You grinned, looking down at him. "I like the sound of it,"

"As do I," he agreed, his hand stroking your cheek.

"When I first met you, I never would've thought we'd end up here," you mused, running your fingers along his jaw.

"Neither did I," he admitted, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"So, tell me about this beach trip, what would we do?" You asked, wanting to keep him talking, not wanting to leave his side.

"Hmmm," he said, thinking for a moment. "I would find us a quiet little bungalow, right on the water, with a private stretch of sand for us,"

You closed your eyes, listening to the smooth timber of his voice, imagining the soft waves and fresh ocean air.

"And we'd have our meals brought in by servants, we'd lounge on the beach, swim, and make love whenever the mood struck us," he said, his fingers dancing across your back.

"I could live with that," you said, sighing contently, enjoying his warmth.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, a soft, gentle kiss.

You broke the kiss and stared into his dark eyes, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"If anything happens to me I want you to know, I don't regret a single second of it," he said, his voice soft.

"What?" You asked, giving him a worried look.

"You need to know, in case I fail, and my brother ends me before I can end him," he said, his face serious, his eyes clouded with fear.

"Elijah-," you started to protest, but he cut you off.

"Promise me," he said, his voice pleading. "If this ends badly, you will remember rule three,"

"I thought we had given up on the rules," you said, trying not to let him see how afraid you were.

"Not this one," he said, his voice cracking.

"Why? You can't seriously expect me to-"

"Please," he said, his dark eyes locked on yours. "For me,"

You sighed and nodded, leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his fingers stroking your back, his lips brushing against your hair.

"Just come back to me," you said, trying not to cry.

"Always,”

The problem, Damon: you talk a good game but you don't actually know anything. She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire...It's a very long time.

Elijah's words had been echoing around in Damon's head since that morning, the smugness in the older vampire's voice made him want to put his fist through the wall.

He had made a mess of things, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. The feeling he had when he learned that today was the day of the sacrifice, the day that he would lose Elena... He simply couldn't handle it. His desire for action was overwhelming.

He didn't like everything being out of his control, so he did what he had to do. And now his brother and Elena hated him. Elijah being right was the cherry on top of his shit sundae.

In times like this, when he hit rock bottom then fell a little further, he turned to his oldest friend, his closest confidant, his beloved sister.

But you weren't picking up the phone, despite Elijah's assurances you were alive and somewhere safe, it didn't soothe his worries.

So he tried one last time, and this time you actually picked up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard your voice.

"If you are calling to lecture me on love, I will remind you that you are no better," your voice made his throat constrict.

"I know, I'm not," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"Are you okay?" You asked, a little softer.

"No," he answered, his voice shaking.

"What happened?" You asked, concern creeping into your tone.

"Everything's gone to hell," he replied, his voice strained. "I gave Elena my blood... Well actually I made her drink my blood,"

"Oh Damon..."

"I had no other choice,"

"She's going to hate you,"

"I know, Elijah told me,"

"Damon... He's right,"

"I know that too,"

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, he could hear you moving around, like you were packing a bag.

"I'm on my way," you said, finally. "Partly to kick your ass, partly to give you a hug,"

"Always the multitasker," he joked, his voice cracking. "But do not come home tonight, I just need to know you are safe,"

"I'll do what I want," you said, and he could almost see the pout on your lips.

He smiled, he had missed your stubbornness, and it was the closest thing to normal he had felt all day. But he couldn't risk you being involved, everyone was already in the crossfire, and the thought of you being added to that mix was too much for him to bear.

"Sister," he said, his voice firm. "Please, please, listen to me, just this once, and stay away,"

You let out a long, irritated sigh, "I'm so bored, and I'm getting hungry,"

"Well then go find someone nice to eat and watch a movie," he suggested, chuckling.

"I can't concentrate, not when everyone I love is in danger," you grumbled.

"Does that love extend to Elijah?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yes," you said simply, and his heart ached.

He had known, of course, but hearing you say it aloud made it real.

"Why him? Like seriously..." Damon asked, he was genuinely curious, and he needed something to distract him from the shit show he had gotten himself into. "How did you even meet him?"

"I was hunting," you answered, sounding amused. "He found my methods to be entertaining, and I found him to be a challenge,"

"Did you know who he was? What he planned for Elena?" Damon asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

"Yes, I knew who he was. But we had rules, to keep things from getting complicated," you explained.

"That didn't really work out did it?" He teased, smiling.

"No," you admitted, laughing.

There was a long pause, and he could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him.

"Damon, promise me you won't die for her?" You asked, your voice wavering.

"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice low.

"I know," you whispered. "Just please, try to survive this,"

"I'll do my best," he promised, knowing he couldn't really promise anything.

"I love you big brother," you said, and his eyes started to water. "Tell Stefan I love him too,"

"I will, I love you too," he choked out, and he heard the line go dead.

Damon stared at his phone, the picture of you, him and Stefan was staring back at him, his heart aching.

"I hope I see you tomorrow, little sis,"

The town you were hiding out in was quiet and a little boring, but you didn't mind. It was the first time in a long time you had had a few days to yourself, no drama, no life or death situations. Just perfect mundanity.

You were lounging in a café, enjoying a cup of coffee, and watching the locals, wondering what their lives were like. You envied them, their simplicity, their happiness. You imagined you and Elijah in a little house, in a place like this, with a garden and a view of the ocean.

You were lost in your own world, dreaming about the impossible, when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, a smile playing at your lips. Dinner had just arrived.

He was handsome, with curly hair and blue eyes, he had a sharp wicked glint in his eyes that sent a thrill through you. You always enjoyed a good meal with a bit of bite.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked, grinning.

"Not at all," you purred, gesturing to the chair.

He sat, and ordered a coffee, and he turned his attention back to you.

"I don't mean to be so forward, but you are downright striking," he said, his gaze running over your body.

"Thank you," you said, giving him a flirty smile. "It's a bit of a family trait,"

"Is that so? Mine as well, if you can't tell," he said, smiling.

You laughed, enjoying his company.

"You aren't from around here," he observed, sipping his coffee.

"Neither are you," you said, tilting your head.

"I'm just visiting, on vacation," he replied, grinning.

"Same,"

He was charming, and handsome, and you could feel the hunger starting to rise within you.

"I'm staying at the Inn down the street," he said, giving you a hopeful look.

"I'm staying there as well,"

"Well then, may I escort you home?"

"You may,"

The walk back to the Inn was short, you enjoyed his company, he was easy to talk to, and funny.

"Would you like a nightcap?" He asked, flashing you a crooked smile.

"That would be lovely," you said, grinning.

His hand came to rest on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. You usually enjoyed playing with your food a little before you ate, but you were committed to Elijah now, and you didn't want to stray.

As soon as you entered his room, he pinned you to the wall, moving in to kiss you. You politely dodged by pressing your lips to his neck, breathing him in.

"You are a vision," he said, his hand sliding up your arm, and into your hair.

"Thank you," you murmured, your fangs grazing his skin, his pulse racing beneath your lips.

He moaned, and gripped your waist, pressing his hips against yours. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and you went to bite down.

Suddenly, he pulled your head back by your hair, hard. With strength you hadn't expected, he forced you back, pushing you hard into the wall, the plaster cracking behind you.

"I see why my brother is so taken," he growled, his eyes darkening.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, "Klaus,"

"The one and only, love," he said, smirking.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.

"Don't worry, love," he purred, his hand stroking your cheek. "I won't hurt you,"

"Fuck you," you said, glaring at him.

He smirked, and kissed you, hard, his teeth cutting into your lips.

"You're a feisty little thing," he said, licking his lips. "Even wilder than your brothers,"

You hissed and tried to struggle, his hands tightening around your arms, digging into your skin. "If you hurt them..."

"Now, now," he said, tutting. "Let's not make threats, especially when you can't back them up,"

You bared your fangs at him, but he only grinned.

"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Elijah's little distraction,"

"I'm more than a distraction," you growled, struggling against his hold.

"Hmmm," he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling your neck. "I know,"

You were too frightened to speak, your whole body trembling.

"It's what I'm counting on dear,"

Klaus had been dragging you through the woods for what felt like hours.

Your fear had turned into anger and you began to try and fight him. It seemed to amuse him for a while, he'd let you run only to catch you with ease.

"Why are you doing this?" You growled, his hand holding your arm tightly, leading you through the trees.

"To be reborn, as I truly am," he said, his expression thoughtful.

You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, he was a narcissist, the kind of man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" He asked, looking down at you. "One thousand years,"

"I know," you sighed.

"Of course you do," he said, smirking. "Elijah loves to spill his heart out after a good bedding doesn't he?"

You didn't answer him, he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"My brother has always been the strong, self righteous type, with an unbreakable moral code," Klaus chuckled, picking up his pace, dragging you along. "That is... Until he gets his face between a pretty pair of legs,"

"Fuck you," you spat, anger boiling up inside of you.

"You have a smart mouth," he said, his fingers squeezing your arm. "I think I'll like to see how you use it later,"

You freed yourself from his grip and slapped him hard across the face. No man was allowed to speak to you in that way, and you certainly weren't going to tolerate it from this monster.

His expression changed from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. He slammed you against a nearby tree, the twigs and branches impaling you.

You cried out, blood pouring from the puncture wounds, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"That was very, very stupid,"

His words sent a chill down your spine, and a fresh wave of fear washed over you.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his tone taunting. "No more choice words and acts of violence for me?"

"Don't kill me," you said, tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"I won't," he assured you, his lips brushing against yours. "But I will kill everyone in Mystic Falls if you don't do what I say. If you don't believe me... Just ask sweet little Katerina about it,"

Your blood ran cold, you knew what he was capable of, and you had no choice but to obey him.

Through the trees you could see a circle of fire, and you felt dread sink into the pit of your stomach.

"No," you pleaded, trying to pull away.

"Stop being so dramatic, love," he said, rolling his eyes.

He pulled you into the clearing, throwing you down on the ground next to the three women sitting in their own rings of fire.

You could see Elena, a terrified look on her face, along with her aunt Jenna and a woman you didn't recognize.

"Hello my lovelies," Klaus said, grinning. "Are we all ready?"

He gave you a swift kick, then grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. "I brought an assistant with me,"

He pushed you forward, leaving you to stand there as he walked to the altar, handing the moonstone to a witch standing nearby.

You looked at Elena and Jenna, they were beyond scared, their eyes full of tears, and you felt your stomach twist, you didn't know how to help them.

The witch had begun to chant, a mixture of Latin and something else, the moonstone began to spark, then it exploded into nothing.

"Bring me the wolf," Klaus demanded, looking at you with a wild, manic look in his eyes.

You shook your head, your whole body trembling, you refused to let him hurt someone else.

"It's either them or the entire town, love. That includes your brothers," he growled, his jaw clenched.

The thought of losing Stefan and Damon made your stomach clench, and tears started to run down your face.

"Bring her. Now," he growled, his tone brokering no argument.

You walked towards the first ring of fire, to the terrified woman who was writhing in pain, her cries echoing through the trees.

The ring disappeared as you approached, and you lifted the girl into your arms. She was whimpering and shaking, the transition having begun.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, carrying her to the altar.

"Good girl," Klaus hummed, taking the wolf from your arms, and laying her on the stone.

Klaus kneeled over her, looking down at her with an evil grin, his eyes were filled with a mix of desire and madness, and he plunged his hand into her chest, ripping her heart out.

Jenna and Elena screamed, watching Klaus hold up the wolf's heart, his expression triumphant.

"I'll make it quick, I promise," Klaus said, grinning. "They will barely feel a thing,"

You looked over at Elena and Jenna, their screams piercing the air, the witches chanting growing louder.

Elijah was looking up at the night sky, watching the moon slowly make its way across, his thoughts on you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, and the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him.

If tonight went smoothly, he had so many plans with you, the first was taking you to Paris, a city that was sure to dazzle you. After that he would whisk you away to Rome, where you could visit the many art museums and eat all the food you wanted.

He wanted to spoil you, shower you with everything you could ever want, and then some. It had been nearly sixty years of searching for his brother, trying to uncover the rest of his family. He felt like tonight was the first chance he had to truly mourn, then he could finally move on and spend the rest of his time with you.

He had spoken with Stefan earlier, before he left with Bonnie to go stop Klaus. He liked Stefan, he was an honorable man who respected the choices of the ones he loved, even if he didn't agree with them.

Elijah hoped he and Stefan could be friends one day, once everything settled down, he knew that would make you happy. To see peace between him and your brothers. Damon would be a more difficult task, he reminded him of Klaus, cocky and impulsive, and that was a difficult combination.

The waiting was beginning to make him antsy. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, but there were so many factors outside of his control, he didn't like the feeling. He needed to distract himself, keep his mind from wandering too far.

He thought about his siblings, of sweet Rebekah, wild Kol, and serious Finn. What would they think of him killing Klaus? He wished he could have saved them, he wanted so badly to see them again.

He let out a long sigh, steeling himself for what he had to do. Klaus was no longer his brother, he had been twisted into a monster, and he had to be put down.

It was time, he could see the moon hanging high above him, it was time to end this.

You watched Klaus squeeze the wolf's heart over the altar, the blood dripping into the fire, igniting it.

"Next, the vampire," he said, grinning.

You stood, frozen, watching him, as a wave of guilt crashed over you.

"Bring me Jenna, go on,"

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"No," you said in the smallest voice.

You could hear Jenna and Elena, talking to each other, they were saying their goodbyes and it broke your heart.

Klaus turned, and walked over to you, his eyes were dark and cold, and his jaw was clenched.

"Are you offering yourself in her place then?" He growled, his hand coming up to grab your chin.

You didn't answer him, you were staring over his shoulder at Jenna and Elena.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

You let him drag you to the altar, and push you down onto the cold stone, he forced you to kneel. You didn't fight him, you had lived for many decades longer than sweet Jenna and Elena, the old should always give their lives for the young.

Klaus let out a hearty chuckle and kicked you over, his hand gripping your hair.

"I don't recall you being on the guest list," Klaus yelled, looking into the dark forest.

You heard the sound of footsteps as someone approached, it was Stefan. His expression was calm, but his eyes were furious.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus asked, amused.

Stefan looked at you, a concerned look on his face.

"Well, I figured you could start by letting my sister go," Stefan said, his voice firm.

"Hmm," Klaus said, looking down at you. "I don't think I will, she's quite the little spitfire, and I rather enjoy her company,"

"Let her go, I'll take her place," Stefan offered, taking a step forward.

"That's quite noble of you," Klaus said, smiling. "But, I think I'd prefer my original plan. I rather appreciate the symmetry of three women...Three goddesses sacrificed at nature's altar."

He grabbed both you and Stefan and dragged you towards the rings of fire. Throwing you both down next to Elena and Jenna.

"Quite the predicament. You know, it's funny, all this talk about preserving family, and here's Stefan, granting your wish," Klaus said to Elena, smiling.

Stefan and Elena were looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Oh, don't look so glum," Klaus said, looking between the two. "There's actually no choice,"

Klaus took a stake and plunged it into Stefan's spine, causing him to yell in pain, unable to move.

You and Elena both screamed, you got to your feet to strike Klaus, but he grabbed you by the throat, squeezing hard.

"Let them go," Elena pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. "I understand that I have to die, but they don't,"

Klaus ignored her and looked into your eyes, his hand tightening around your neck.

"Bring Jenna to the altar, or I'll kill Stefan," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin.

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, you couldn't lose Stefan.

"Please," you whispered, your hands clawing at his.

He let you go, then walked back to the altar.

"Bring her, now," he ordered, pointing at the ring of fire surrounding Jenna.

You stood, walking slowly over to the fire, the ring disappeared and Jenna looked up at you with tear filled eyes. She looked so afraid, so helpless.

"I'm so sorry," you said, your voice breaking, as you helped her to her feet.

You walked her over to the altar, Klaus waiting patiently.

"Jenna, I'm so sorry," you whispered, your hand brushing the hair from her face.

She was sobbing, her body shaking, and you held her close, stroking her hair.

"Please Klaus, just use me instead, she's innocent," you begged, tears running down your face.

"You Salvatore's are so predictable," Klaus sighed, rolling his eyes.

Klaus walked over, and pulled Jenna from your arms, he threw her down onto the altar. Everything seemed to blur, you could hear Elena screaming, the chants of the witch, the cracking of the fire. You saw Stefan reaching out to Elena through the flames, and then, it was quiet.

Klaus plunged a stake into her heart, Elena's wails were all you could hear. Jenna's lifeless body was lying on the altar, her face frozen in fear. You had brought her to her slaughter. You had killed her.

"Such a wonderful assistant," Klaus cooed, he grabbed your chin, his bloody fingers digging into your skin. "Be a good girl and bring me the doppelganger,"

You looked into his cold eyes, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Now," he growled.

You nodded, then walked over to Elena, tears were running down her cheeks, but she put on a brave face as the last ring of fire disappeared.

"Elena," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your whole body was shaking. "I'm so, so sorry,"

"Don't," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. It's nice to have a friend here at the end,"

She held your hand as you helped her walk over to Klaus. You looked at Stefan, he was struggling to free himself, his eyes filled with worry.

"Elena," Stefan called, his voice breaking.

"It's okay, Stefan," she said, her grip on your hand tightening. "I'm ready,"

You helped her up onto the altar, and Klaus looked down at her with hungry eyes.

"Thank you Elena," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving her hair away from her neck.

"Go to hell," she said, her voice strong.

He chuckled and sank his fangs into her neck.

Elena didn't fight, she let death take her, her grip loosening on your hand, as her last breath left her.

You were shaking, the sound of Klaus drinking from her filling the silence. You had lost two friends today, and the world was suddenly a lot emptier.

When the last bit of blood left her body, Klaus dropped her to the ground and the fire in the altar went out.

You knelt next to her, brushing her hair away from her face, then you looked back at Stefan who was writhing in pain, crying at the loss of Elena.

Klaus staggered a bit, the full moon peeking out from the trees. He groaned, and started to change, his bones cracking as he stumbled forward, his expression a mask of pure bliss.

"It's happening," he moaned, his eyes turned gold, and he was overcome with pleasure. "I can feel it,"

You couldn't stand this any long, all this pain and death. You needed it to end.

You moved down the steps towards him, grabbing a branch off a nearby tree, snapping it in half.

"Come on, sweetheart," he taunted, turning to look at you, his eyes shining. "I'm indestructible,"

"I don't care," you snarled, lunging for him. "You still feel pain,"

You charged at him, striking him across the face, your rage blinding you, making you miss his fist, as it collided with your stomach.

The blow threw you across the clearing, and you landed on your back, the air leaving your lungs, the branch now lodged in your side.

You saw Damon come running out of the woods, he first looked to Elena, then to Stefan, but when he laid eyes on you, he ran to your side.

"No, no, no, no," he said, his eyes filled with panic, he pulled the wood from your side. "You're not supposed to be here,"

You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled up at him, cupping his face. He helped you to your feet, your wounds healing, then he pushed you behind him.

"Damon," you said softly, trying to stop him.

"Bonnie is here, it's okay, let me handle this," he said, his tone stern.

Klaus was standing there, laughing maniacally, a mad grin on his face, then his body began to shake and he fell to the ground.

Suddenly his laughter turned to screams, as Bonnie came striding out of the trees, chanting a spell, she raised her hand, causing Klaus to scream in agony. The fire returned to the altar and spread into the trees, her magic all around them as she channeled every ounce of power she possessed, bringing the hybrid to his knees.

Then she choked on her words, gasping for air, looking around for the source.

"Get the witch!" Stefan yelled, pointing to Klaus' witch, still standing at the altar, her hand outstretched.

Bonnie raised her hands, trying to focus her power, but she was struggling, and you could see the strain on her face.

The witch threw Bonnie into the air, knocking her out, her body hitting the ground.

Damon ran for the witch, and tackled her, his teeth sinking into her neck. He killed her instantly, her body going limp in his arms.

The fire disappeared, the flames extinguishing, the magic disappearing. A deadly quiet settling over everything.

Suddenly, you felt a hand in your hair, dragging you backwards, the pain making you scream.

"Elijah!" Klaus roared into the woods, "I know you are out there, show yourself!"

You saw Elijah walk out of the trees, and into the clearing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on yours.

Klaus's fingers dug into your scalp, and he pulled harder, forcing you to your knees between them.

"What a sight," Klaus mocked, grinning at Elijah.

"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his eyes still locked on yours.

"You've come to kill me?" Klaus said, chuckling. "How is that working out for you?"

He pulled you back to your feet, your whole body trembling.

"Actually, I've come to make you an offer," Elijah said, taking a step closer, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh," Klaus said, amused. "An offer, I wonder what that might be,"

"Spare them, and I will pledge my loyalty to you," Elijah said, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're lying," Klaus growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fangs grazing your skin. "You're only offering yourself, so I won't kill her. That's not true loyalty,"

You saw Damon lift Elena's body into his arms, carrying her to Stefan. Then he pulled the stake out of Stefan's back, allowing him to move again.

"Elijah," Stefan called, his voice shaky. "You need to finish this,"

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Klaus will kill her,"

Damon rushed to Bonnie's side, trying to wake her up, and Klaus laughed, his lips pressed against your ear.

"Run to your love, if you make it I'll let you live," he whispered, shoving you forward.

You stumbled, your legs barely able to support you, then you started running towards Elijah, tears streaming down your face.

You made it to him, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, he was murmuring soft words into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. And you finally felt safe again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling away to look at you, his fingers brushing the hair from your face.

"Yes," you said softly, your hand gripping his jacket.

You were staring up at him, his brown eyes were warm and full of worry, and you had forgotten how much you missed him.

"Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your lips met his at the same time you felt something strange in your back. An odd pressure that made you gasp into his mouth.

You pulled away from Elijah, there was a strange look on his face, his mouth falling open, and he looked down at you, a look of pure terror in his eyes.

For the first time in centuries, you felt cold, the world was spinning around you. You knew what was happening,

Your hand pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart beating against your palm. You looked up into his brown eyes one last time.

"Rule three, my love," you whispered, before your life faded away, and your body fell against him.

Elijah looked down at you, your skin rapidly turning gray, your eyes vacant. Then he looked up at Klaus, who held your heart in his hands.

"This is for betraying me," Klaus said, dropping the organ at his feet, the blood running down the stone steps.

Elijah stood there, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, his whole world was crumbling.

He could hear Stefan and Damon screaming, but it sounded far away, the own beating of his heart drowning out the rest.

Klaus grabbed Elijah by the neck, forcing him to drop your body, and shoved him to the ground.

"Look at her, the way she's staring up at the stars, it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Klaus mocked, as Elijah watched you, lifeless on the cold stone. "And it's all because of you,"

Elijah looked away, a tear falling down his cheek, his brother's words cutting into him.

"You're pathetic," Klaus hissed, his hands gripping Elijah's jacket, your blood staining the fabric. "To think you could beat me,"

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to block out his brother's words, but it was no use, his mind was replaying every moment with you. Knowing he would never taste your lips again, or hear your laugh. You would never fall asleep in his arms.

He looked over at Damon, who had rushed to your body. He was holding you, rocking you back and forth in his arms, with Stefan by his side, his face stained with tears, a look of anguish on his face.

Elijah's world was fading away, as he was overcome with rage and anguish, a darkness consuming him, and Klaus just kept talking, his voice becoming more and more distant.

Then something within him snapped, a creature that was lurking underneath his skin came bursting through, a monster taking the place of the gentleman.

He turned his attention back to his brother, and Klaus froze, the fear clear in his eyes.

Damon watched as Elijah pushed Klaus backwards, causing him to fly across the clearing, skidding along the dirt, landing a few feet away.

Elijah walked in a slow, deliberate pace towards Klaus , his expression devoid of any emotion.

"You're right, Klaus," Elijah said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We are not the same,"

Klaus tried to stand, but Elijah shoved him back down, he grabbed Klaus leg and twisted it until it snapped. Klaus howled in agony, and Elijah smiled, twisting the other leg, and his brother's screams were echoing through the night.

"You want to be a beast?" Elijah growled, pulling Klaus into the air by his neck, his hands wrapped around his throat. "Let me help you,"

Damon felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bonnie was standing there, her eyes full of sorrow.

"Damon," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Go, help Elijah," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll stay here with her,"

Bonnie nodded, she stood up, her body trembling. Stefan jumped to his feet to help her stay upright, and she began to chant once more.

The altar burst into flames for a third time, illuminating Klaus and Elijah in a ring of fire as they struggled against each other.

"What is this?" Klaus yelled, pushing Elijah away, trying to fight the pain. "What have you done?"

"Something that should have been done centuries ago," Elijah growled, rushing towards his brother, knocking him down, pinning him to the dirt, his hand raised.

"In the name of our family, Niklaus...," Elijah said, plunging his hand into his brother's chest, curing his fingers around Klaus's heart. "In the name of her..."

"I didn't bury them at sea!" Klaus yelled, his hand trying to pry Elijah's away. "They are safe, I swear,"

Elijah looked at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"I can take you to them," Klaus pleaded, his hands gripping Elijah's wrist. “Their bodies are safe. If you kill me, you'll never find them,”

"Elijah, don't listen to him," Stefan yelled, walking towards them.

"Brother, please," Klaus begged. "She wouldn't want this, please,"

Your beautiful face flashed through Elijah's mind, and he looked back at Damon, who was kneeling there, tears in his eyes, clutching your body.

"You're wrong, Klaus," Elijah growled, his hand squeezing the organ in his grip. "She would want this,"

Then he tore Klaus's heart from his chest, and watched the life fade from his brother's eyes.

Klaus's body dropped to the ground, his heart still beating in Elijah's hand, and the flames died down, leaving the clearing in silence.

Bonnie walked up to him, looking down at the flames.

"Good," She said, her voice hoarse.

Elijah looked back at Stefan and Damon, they were kneeling next to your body, Stefan's hand caressing your cheek.

Elijah rushed over to you, looking down at your peaceful face, you almost looked like you were sleeping.

Elijah brushed the hair from your face, his hands were shaking. He couldn't understand how something so beautiful could be snuffed out so easily.

"Don't touch her," Damon said, pulling you away from Elijah.

"You did this," Damon snapped, glaring at Elijah. "It's your fault she's dead,"

Elijah nodded and stepped away, Damon was right, it was his fault.

"Damon," Stefan said, reaching for his brother.

"No, he has to answer for this," Damon said, getting to his feet, your body in his arms.

"It's over Damon," Bonnie said softly, looking up at him. "It's over,"

Damon looked down at you, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He was shaking, and Stefan reached for him, the two of them clinging to each other, your body between them.

"I think it's best you leave," Bonnie said, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, go,"

Elijah nodded, his heart breaking as he looked down at your lifeless form, knowing this was his fault.

"Where will you go?" Stefan asked, as he wiped his eyes.

"I need to find my siblings," he said softly, looking away from the sight. "With Klaus dead, everyone he compelled will be free, I'll follow the clues they left behind,"

He looked back at you, and his heart shattered.

"Will you be okay?" Stefan asked, his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"One day," he replied, turning to look at him, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Stefan said softly.

Elijah gave them a small nod, then disappeared into the trees, heading far away from Mystic Falls. His heart forever bound to yours.

~Epilogue

Time changes all things, this was something Damon had the basics of understanding, but nothing could prepare him for how it would affect him when he became human again.

He was an old man, something he never expected to experience, and yet there he was.

"Are you ready?" Elena asked, her hand on his arm.

"Always," he answered, his voice weak, but his smile was genuine.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her eyes still as bright and beautiful as the day he met her.

The walk to the Salvatore family crypt was slow, and the pain in his joints was unbearable. He hated getting old.

They entered the stone building, and Damon let go of Elena's arm, making his way over to your stone. He placed his hand on it, the smoothness soothing his calloused hand.

"Hi sis," he said, smiling down at the stone. "It's been a while, i've been so busy,"

He took a seat in the chair next to your grave, he had brought it decades ago. He was a man who liked his comfort, and he spent hours talking to you, catching you up on everything that had happened since the last time he was there.

"I have grandkids now! Can you believe it? They are the cutest, I even named a boy after you, well, the closest we could come, but, yeah," he said, a wide grin on his face.

Damon looked over at Elena, who was laying flowers at Stefan's grave. She was the only one left, and he was so grateful for her.

"I miss you and Stefan so much," Damon said softly. "But it won't be long now until I see you again,"

There was an awkward cough and Damon looked up to see a delivery boy standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

"I have a delivery for Miss Y/n Salvatore," he said, walking up to him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"She's not exactly up for company," Damon said with a chuckle, gesturing to your stone.

"I know, this actually isn't my first time doing this," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Actually, the guy who use to deliver along this route said that he's been delivering here once a week for his entire fourty year career,"

Damon stood up slowly, his bones protesting the movement. He held his hand out and the boy handed him the flowers.

"Thanks, kid," Damon said, sitting back down, there was a note tucked in with the flowers.

The boy gave him a little wave before disappearing.

Elena came to sit next to him, her hand on his knee, she gave him a sad smile. "What does it say?"

Damon pulled out his glasses, and read it out loud, a tear rolling down his cheek.

For a thousand years, I had never known love, until you, and for a thousand more, I will wait for you.

-Elijah

Rule one: When we are together, it will just be us, no one will know.

Rule two: No talk of business or family, don't get personal.

Rule three: When it's over, it's over.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~LOVE YOU GUYS

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cherries-in-wine · 2 days

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I love the parallels between the virgin suicides and lolita.

People call Vladimir Nabokov a disgusting creep for writing from the perspective of a pedophile when in reality if you read the book, Humbert Humbert is not likeable in the slightest. He's an unreliable narrator that's so stuck in his own delusions that he can't see how miserable dolores is because of him. Nabokov is a great writer and lolita is really well written. It's a great satire in the sense that it's pathetic to see Humbert Humbert think he's sooo charming and these "nymphets" are soooo in love with him. Dolores' trauma is obvious to any conscious reader, I don't know how people are so charmed by Humbert Humbert that they can't see how dolores' defiance which he calls "teenage rebellion" is a very apparent cry for help. Lolita is a Gothic horror, a cautionary tale. It's a genius work of art and what's most horrific about lolita is how the public reacted to it, how it's so normalised to sexualise little girls that blatant pedophilia is interpreted as a tragic love story. Nabokov himself referred to dolores as his "poor little girl". He had a lot of empathy for her and it must be so heartbreaking to see her getting sexualised.

When I first read the virgin suicides i thought it was a great work of satire. I adore the Lisbon girls with all my heart, I see a part of myself in all of them by varying degrees. The boys who claimed they loved these girls, only saw them as some fantasy. Even in death they never truly respected any of these girls. How when they found Cecelia's diary, instead of trying to make sense of why she killed herself, they selfishly searched for their own names. I loved the irony of the boys claiming they loved these girls when they didn't know anything about them. It showed how their "love" was really shallow and surface level. I thought Jeffrey Eugenides really understood me in that sense. But in reality he didn't mean any of the things the boys did to be interpreted as satire. According to him, peaking through windows, stealing used tampons, joking about groping dead girls, these grown men still picturing those little girls years later while they had sex with their wives etc was supposed to show that teenage boys are not disgusting horny dogs, but romantic softies (if anything this made me think teenage boys are much more repulsive than i thought). According to Eugenides the book is satire, but in the sense that you never know what was going through a person's head when they committed suicide and you can't make sense of it no matter how hard you try. Everything about how the boys viewed the girls was not satire and was to be taken at face value. This really broke my heart, an author who i thought really did get me and understood me, ended up making me feel watched instead of seen.

It's so interesting how lolita which is supposed to be from the perspective of an unreliable narrator was taken at face value and the virgin suicides which was to be taken at face value was perceived as satire.

The director of Lolita didn't get her at all, even he thought she was some kind of a seductress instead of a child that was abused constantly. While the virgin suicides movie was so much better than the book, Sofia Coppola, the director, understood the Lisbon girls so well and she did them justice.

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yenonnoff · 2 days

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t. kageyama — to you, my dear

pairing: kageyama x gn!reader

content/warnings: written fic, timeskip with adlers kageyama, heavy angst, mentions of death and unnamed illness, grieving, y/n likes folding origami (vv cool), voice is described as light and bubbly sry (◞‸◟), ooc, didnt know how to end it i hope u like it still :D

word count: 2.2k

synopsis: you snuck into his heart with one origami crane, and he fell hopelessly in love with you. however, fate was merciless and it had other plans for you.

a/n: kageyama is so fine wow he deserves everything ↳ ♪ masterlist ☆

externally: kageyama tobio was okay. to his teammates, his audience, and regular passersby, he was still the hardworking, perfectionist Adlers setter everyone knew and loved.

internally: kageyama tobio was torn and ripped apart like useless paper. the setter, who prided himself on his victories and achievements, lost an imperative battle that cost him everything. he’d lost you to your illness, and you had taken his heart with you to your grave.

kageyama would never blame you for what happened. not in a million years; not even when the world was falling apart, and that was his only ticket to salvation. you didn’t deserve it. deep down, he knew what he was getting himself into when you came to watch the Adlers match that day.

you were close friends with ushijima. so close that you were invited to his game with the opportunity of meeting his teammates after their match. it was like an ant show: his teammates swarmed you as if you were the biggest cracker they’d ever seen.

that was the moment kageyama knew to stay away. it wasn’t something the setter usually got himself caught up in. besides, your honeyed smiles and merry acceptance of their weird behavior just further augmented his point.

he knew that kind of demeanor. the one where they’re happy just because. they fret and fawn over trivial details, and notice things that aren’t worth noticing. more than anything, people like you enjoyed living in the moment.

kageyama was no stranger to that kind of attitude. he’d been surrounded by all sorts of people, most prominently the happy-go-lucky types. so, he automatically flagged you as red in his system. you were trouble—an impending headache in human form.

but that same captivating and lively attitude was what lured him towards you.

when you strolled over to where he stood (towel resting around his neck and drinking from the water bottle in his hand), kageyama tobio froze.

“hi!” you smiled warmly, holding out your hand to shake his.

the setter tilted his head, lowering the bottle to his side awkwardly. suddenly, the gymnasium felt unbearably cold—freezing. did they turn the aircon up? and out of nowhere, kageyama started feeling self-conscious about everything: himself, his hands, and the sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

“uh, sorry. my hands are sweaty.”

a loud “oh” left your lips, and your previously dumbfounded mien cracked into laughter. the setter tilted his head again, watching as you tried calming yourself down. “i’m sorry, you just looked so genuine. thank you for worrying about my hands, kageyama.”

he opened his mouth to reply, but you continued promptly. “i’m y/n l/n by the way, toshi’s friend. i wanted to know a bit about everyone before meeting them, but you know how he is. when i—”

a talker, was all kageyama could think about while you chatted. you talked a lot and quickly at that, but maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. your voice was light and bubbly. it was bewitching, and kageyama tobio was charmed. the realization made him flush a bright red.

“—don’t even think he knows anything about his teammates!” you paused to peer up at your supposed interlocutor. “kageyama?”

“huh?” he replied in a dazed manner.

oh, god. this was embarrassing. he really wanted to hide in a ditch somewhere. it wasn’t even his first name, but you’d somehow enthralled him into a hot and distracted mess. he’d been tricked—was what he wanted to desperately believe.

“oh, sorry. i rambled too much,” you apologized with a smile. a guileless one. and immediately, kageyama knew he was doomed.

he steeled himself in an attempt to regain composure, replying plainly, “it’s okay….so, uh, what do you do?”

the question was a start. it was the trigger for everything, and somehow, it was also a mistake. for the first time in his life, something unrelated to volleyball made kageyama tobio’s heart flutter.

it barely lasted a second, but it was there. that’s all that mattered. he’d felt it when you started talking again, this time about your profession.

“i work as an assistant elementary school teacher. well, used to. i had to leave for medical issues.”

elementary school teacher, kageyama repeated in his mind. now, everything made sense: your openness and chatty personality. your pleasant voice. the endearing smile you adorn that could charm millions. it was a profession that suited you, and the thought made the setter’s heart soften.

then, he asked about the latter half of your sentence and you described it as “bad luck.” you were struck with a strange illness that currently had no cure. it was the exhausting kind. the one that would eventually drain all your energy until you could no longer function. “i only started regaining some strength recently. enough to visit toshi’s game! so, now i’m here.”

your sweet smile was cruel. if you asked kageyama, he would’ve said it was more than just bad luck. but he didn’t say anything, especially not after his other teammates called for you so exuberantly.

after all, it wasn’t something the setter usually got caught up in, anyway.

but you didn’t attend anymore games after that. the others had wanted you to visit again, but due to health reasons, you weren’t able to come. ushijima relayed your apologies to everyone instead.

what had shocked the setter was his initial worry. he barely knew you, and yet, you consumed his mind whenever he was on the court. where were you? how were you doing? you would’ve been watching by now, cheering loudly for ushijima’s crazy spikes. these were just some thoughts kageyama had about you.

even if the two of you were strangers, you had been a kind one. considerate enough to approach him standing on the sidelines. you didn’t deserve any of this, so, he cared more than he should’ve.

however, what was even more shocking, was the immense relief he’d felt when you returned. glowing, bright, still smiling.

he didn’t approach you first, waiting until the others were done surrounding you. deja-vu was what he’d felt.

“hi!” your cheery voice made him freeze in place. deja-vu. this time, you looked more hesitant in a way, and kageyama noticed. he didn’t say anything, though. he only reached his hand out, inviting you into a handshake.

“oh,” you said, failing to hide your blissful surprise. “your hand isn’t sweaty this time?” it was a joke, but the setter took it seriously with an adamant nod. he was prepared ever since he saw you sit down in the front row. at his ingenuousness, you laughed and wrapped both hands around his. the setter’s cheeks and ears glowed a warm vermillion.

the physical contact didn’t last very long. perhaps only for a couple seconds until kageyama pulled away. it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. your hands were smooth and full of care—unblemished and soothing. your touch was much more: direct and purposeful. it seemed every time he saw you, kageyama’s heart had something new to jump at.

but because of that, he didn’t want to touch you. compared to yours, the athlete’s hands were callused and coarse. they were rough and not devoid of bruises or marks; they were like sandpaper. if you touched them, would you get appalled? the setter was afraid his hands would taint your much softer ones.

your voice brought him back to reality. “oh, here. i made you a little something to commemorate your victory.”

kageyama stared at the paper crane held in front of him. it was dangling from your hand, tied to a blue string decorated with small, shiny beads. he examined it further when you dropped it onto his palms. the origami, made out of pretty blue patterned paper, matched its string.

apparently, you had made all of his teammates one. origami folding was kind of your shtick, and you told the setter how you enjoyed making them with your students during pastime. it was also a good hand exercise, beneficial especially for your health and all.

“the others got to choose whatever color and design they wanted, but i made this one special. it’s one of a kind!” you bounced over to his side, leaning in to adjust the crane still resting on his palms. there was a messy smiley face that you drew on one of its wings.

messy might’ve been an understatement. the smile was crooked and squiggly and cute. kageyama tobio allowed himself a laugh, turning his head to the side to chuckle. it was truly unique—one of a kind.

the next day, the setter bought a pack of origami paper and waited to see you again. he’ll have something to talk to you about. something other than volleyball, the weather, or your health.

and you did come. sometimes back to back; sometimes randomly. you’d dip and show up to a match a couple weeks later. still, kageyama would look forward to seeing you again. it motivated him to play better so that he’d get to see your joyful face afterwards.

he’d tell you about his origami process, mentioning his struggles and showing you the strange abomination he folded last night. the setter’s rough hands weren’t like yours. they performed serves and sets; they made contact with volleyballs and gymnasium floors on a daily basis. making precise folds with thin paper was an unfamiliar task to them.

so, you helped out. everytime you came, you’d show him how to fold a new design after his match. you liked to increase the difficulty level to tease him (even suggesting he fold a 5x5 cm design once). but kageyama was a learner, and a fast one. with you by his side, he believed he could do anything.

you cradled his heart with your tender hands. and under that care, kageyama tobio melted more than he—or anyone—thought he would.

the first time he asked you out, it was for a leisurely stroll through town, where you stopped by more than a couple stationary stores.

alone in an aisle with him, he asked you candid questions, displaying his confusion at the variety of textures and patterns. “is there a volleyball one?” he asked once, and you laughed lovingly. the moment was healing. the moment meant everything to kageyama. your genuine happiness was worth every cheeky question.

at the end of the third date, kageyama hugged you close to him. your warmth swirled and mixed together. with his arms around you, you felt his desperation and, most importantly, his love.

kageyama was a volleyball player, but he wasn’t unaware. he knew the time you had together was not infinite. if he let go of you now, would he see you ever again? he’d dug too big of a hole for himself, but he was unwilling to let go of his affection for you. he was stubborn and hopeless, but he was stubborn and hopeless with you.

you knew how he felt about your illness. you knew his undeniable feelings for you. so, you pulled away and kissed him with passion you didn’t know you were saving. haunted with imminent death, you carelessly fell in love with a volleyball player. haunted with the thought of you slipping away forever, kageyama kissed you back deeper—with his whole heart.

time was cruel. fate, however, was much worse. it despised you, seeking merciless ways to rob you of your merited happiness. it cursed you with an illness you never deserved. so, kageyama tobio—Adlers’ pro setter who learned how to fold silly origami—hated fate too. for both yours and his heart’s sake.

it allowed you two months of silence before sneaking up to your hospital room. then, you were gone forever.

the next day, kageyama attended your funeral service. people greeted him and expressed their condolences, people like his teammates and ushijima. they all knew what you’d meant to him and vice versa. the setter bore his feelings behind a closed door and thanked them. he was the last to leave, standing in front of your smiling portrait until his legs were numb.

it was worse when he got home—when the realization tore him apart. overflowing with grief and sorrow, kageyama cried at his front door. he’d barely made a couple steps into his house before devastation swallowed him whole. now, there was an empty place in his chest that he’ll never get back.

he still played, though. play matches, win them, go home and start over. he’d play and practice, play and practice, then do it all over again until his coarse hands were red and full of blisters.

but he never stopped thinking about you. before each match, he’d sit down and fold one of the designs you taught him. from flowers to objects to cranes and animals. he practiced them everyday until they started stacking up. he did this because he knew memories were unfair and traitorous. they naturally decay and become worn each time you recall them; they’re cruelly vulnerable to change. sooner or later, the details of your idyllic but simple moments together would chip away and dissolve. there would be nothing left. kageyama tobio only had this to cling onto.

the last thing you showed him how to fold was a blue penguin. he folded those the most because it was the last time he got to see you smile. “it’s simple but cute! look at it, it reminds me of you,” was what you’d said. god knows how many times kageyama replayed those words in his mind.

even now, he still looks for you in the crowds; in the people he meets; and in pretty origami paper.

if u made it this far have a cookie <3 (@kqbukimono @mylahrins hehehfh hi!!! hello!!!!)

in all seriousness, i know the process of grieving is subjective, but i wanted to make sure i was able to portray it properly. if i or my writing came off as insensitive, please let me know. i want to fix my mistakes and learn from them.

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harkonnen-darkness · 2 days

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• 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭(𝐞𝐫) 𝐅𝐞𝐲𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 Part Two

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen imagine (?)

Just something short, but it seems like you liked my first one, so here is Part Two. Also a bit dark Feyd here, I think.

-> Part One 🖤 >> Part Two ⬇️ >> Part Three?

Once again, Feyd loves your gentle touches. He didn't understand them at first, they almost shocked him. He'd asked you what you were doing, twitching and irritatedly avoiding your gentle fingers. It had hurt you deeply, which he had quickly realized. He also realized that he didn't want to feel these feelings. So he drew closer to you day by day and allowed your gentle touches. Not long later, he loves them and enjoys every second of it. He would never admit it, but of course you notice it. And you also love it when he lets himself fall inside you. And it doesn't necessarily have to be sexual. When your hands caress his muscles, when you speak softly and whisper beautiful words to him. Be it about himself, about the death and dying of your both enemies or anything else that would make him happy.

Togetherness with you is very important to him. And he almost doesn't care how. Be it training, simply talking (if there is enough time during the daylight), lying in bed together at night and snuggling up close to each other, even in silence. Words don't always have to be spoken. Your closeness to each other is enough to say. Feyd would never consider silence to be bad as long as you are close together.

He often takes a closer look at your body, especially in the evening / at night. Not just to see what injuries you have sustained during training. Just so he knows that you're here with him. When he had nightmares about your death or your disappearance into the pure darkness several times, he almost didn't let you out of his sight for a few days. Just to make sure that you were still with him. toxically meant *cough* He has these nightmares regularly and is sometimes better and sometimes worse at controlling himself and his actions.

As soon as he have even a shred of time, he'll look for you. He knows all the places you like to go. And if he can't find you, he'll get angry. As soon as Feyd finds you in your or his chambers in the evening, he'll ask you where you've been. On the one hand, he is afraid that you will leave him. Another fear in him is that you will be touched by another man again. There are far too many possibilities in his head of what could have happened, when he can't find you.

The Na-Baron keeps emphasizing that he forbids you to die. At first you thought it was a joke, but each time you realize that he is dead serious. "I only allow you to bleed to death from my bites. Nothing else!" You read a lot into those words. He didn't want you to die in a fight, otherwise you would probably be weak in his eyes. On the other hand, you wonder why he would inflict all that pain to you with his teeth, when they're supposed to be, even in his words, 'love bites'.

Sometimes he unsettles you so much that it drives you crazy. However, you don't show this because you know that it would only lead to problems. But he notices your behavior and asks what's wrong. And he knows 99% of the time when you're lying. But, he doesn't always know what the truth is. But he knows exactly how to relax you and your body. actually, his words THEN only stress you out more lol

He inflicts pain on you in his own way - because he can't and won't do anything else. He bites you bloody when he's in the mood for it and he often holds you so tightly in his arms that it hurts. Sometimes it feels to you as if he could break your ribs in the next few seconds. The Harkonnen is also expressing his feelings for you, because his feelings for you are hurting him. I have explained this a little here. It makes him feel weaker, and he doesn't like that.

At the same time, you strengthen his self-confidence, but also lower it, because he had always sworn that he would never feel anything like love or similar to anyone. It had always been a weakness for him. He had loved his whores, but in a completely different way to the way he adores you.

When Feyd gets the idea, he sprays his perfume on your skin. So that everyone knows you've been with him and his scent 'sticks' to you. He also likes to smell his shower gel on you. It's like another confirmation for him that you are his when you smell like him.

When he has the time and inclination, he simply sits quietly next to you or on the bed and watches you do your hair (whether long or short). He finds the jewelry in your hair fascinating and very pretty. He's rarely seen anything like it before you. And precisely because it's you, he likes to watch you do it. Even when you do your make-up, but he's not a big fan of that. Mascara and, what he likes on you, and pink blush is enough for him. In the evening, at events, he likes to see lipstick on you.

He also finds your clothes fascinating. A lot of it is unusual, eye-catching. Sometimes more, sometimes less elegant. But you know when to wear what. But he doesn't need to see you in sexy underwear. He prefers to undress you completely anyway when he wants to be intimitate with you. But your jewelry, such as necklaces, body chains and rings, can stay on your body.

He knows one, two pretty nightdresses of yours. Nevertheless, he wants to keep you naked or in your panties in bed, pressed close to him. If it's cold, one of his sweat pants on you is fine for him. But he always wants to have your upper body free.

Apart from inflicting bites and hickeys all over you, Feyd especially likes to do it on your back. The large surface is like a canvas for him, which he can decorate as he pleases. Over and over again. He knows that many of your clothes are backless and so his marks are perfectly visible to everyone. This is not the case with your breasts and between your thighs, so your body part lends itself very well to this.

Feyd doesn't really care about the size of women's breasts. The same goes for the bottom. It should match the rest of your figure, that's all he cares about. He also knows a lot about the female body in general. He's already happily interested in it, just to understand it. He also knows what happens during pregnancy (vomiting, sometimes tiredness, body changes etc.) and it doesn't bother him in the slightest. As soon as you're pregnant, he even wants you to lay down your weapons and rest at a certain point. You and his offspring are too important to him for you both to be hurt anywhere.

Since he has feelings for you, he almost doesn't care what gender his child will be. It was only because of you, that he saw that women can also be very good warriors. And he thinks that with your warrior genes, and his anyway, a female offspring can't be bad. A male heir is desired, but with time he can be more or less satisfied with the idea of fathering a female.

Nevertheless, he doesn't want to impregnate you until the Baron, his uncle, has disappeared from the scene. Because you only find out much later that it is traditional to murder the mother shortly after giving birth. A (Na-)Baroness is only useful for offspring, nothing else. With you, Feyd's opinion has changed completely. And once he's Baron, can make some new rules - that would be the first thing he'd change. He wants to have you by his side and give you power over Giedi Prime and the galaxy, not drag you behind him as a stupid slave or doll.

Feyd loves to have pure power over your body. This works best sexually. Knowing what he can make you feel, makes his ego soar to unimaginable heights. When he has control over your body, emotions, mind and soul and he very quickly figured out which strings to pull to make you feel good which sometimes almost kills you. He loves to bite your breasts, the inside of your thighs and your butt. All the parts of your body that can perfectly enclose his teeth.

When he realizes you're not feeling well, he sometimes bites you playfully. Often in the cheek, not particularly hard. Just to cheer you up somehow and hear you giggle. It's more serious for him when he bites you while you're asleep. At best in your back, where you can't run your hands over it. Not so hard that you bleed, but it's woken you up a few times. He lies, says he hasn't done anything. Or teases you and asks if you're even dreaming about him.

I have the feeling that he might find thicker thighs quite attractive. No matter whether it's feminine curves or muscles. He's got something to grab and bite! 😮‍💨

Feyd loves slow sex with you. He wants to touch you completely differently than he treated his pets before you. Ever since you became his fiancée, he won't touch them, even though they often try to persuade him. He doesn't consent.

He sometimes sees you, without ever wanting to tell you, as nightmare and sin. That he gives himself to you, has feelings for you. And will probably never really understand it. That he feels something for you that he never wanted to feel, because love has always been a weakness for him. He doesn't love like others, he loves you in his own way. Yet he knows he can't kill you, even if he sometimes wants to. He thinks that this feeling, this longing and passion for you, could then disappear - because then you would be gone. And these thoughts torment him. He finds both terrible.

Your nickname "Devil" therefore has a much deeper meaning for him than you would ever guess.

If you have seen each other very little or not at all, mostly because of his uncle, you can assume that he will spend many hours with you in a waking state as soon as this is possible again. As already mentioned, he finds it pleasant to listen to you when you have something to say. It's a wonderful pastime for him when he's done training alone or teaching-Na-Baron-things. You read a lot of books about Giedi Prime and other things, but you like much rather have Feyd explain it to you.

He also likes to take a pretty bath with you, aside from the thermals. He's not a fan of hot water, but he tries as much as he can to be close to you. He probably wouldn't admit it either, but he likes the scent of your bath salts. And he doesn't mind smelling like you sometimes.

When he has slept in your chambers and watches you sleep briefly before he leaves, he often takes something of yours with him. Jewelry works well, as he has discovered. He hides it in his sleeve or pocket, plays with it in between (throws a ring up and down, for example). He likes to have something of yours to accompany him throughout the day. If you notice that something is missing, he lies and says with a grin that you should take better care of your things. Then the stuff suddenly reappear.

He couldn't describe how much he loves it, when you lean your head against his chest. No matter whether you are standing, sitting on his lap or snuggled up close to each other. When you place little kisses on his chest muscles, he likes to kiss your skull and nuzzle your neck and hair. Until his comforting purr turns into a deep growl and you know he's in the mood for you.

*It is absolutely no problem for him to satisfy you orally during your menstruation. He did it the first time so that you would realize that he is not disgusted by you in any ways. It's also supposed to be a sign of his feelings for you. He loves to taste your blood, which is sweet to him all the time. And he doesn't care from which part of your body you're bleeding. The main thing is that he gets as much of it on his tongue as possible without having to kill you. On the other hand, he hopes it will distract you from the pain. (Again, he knows a lot about the womens body.)

*Feyd sometimes imagines what it would look like, when you would to bleed to death in his arms. The red liquid would look so beautiful on you, decorating your body like jewelry. He would smile - probably not even realizing that you are dying - your beauty dazzles him, his perception and senses. There are moments when he looks at his knives and swords and thinks about which one he could use to cut your skin and flesh. But he manages to shake the thought aside, because he knows that it would only cause you pain. And he doesn't want that. He sometimes finds release in his dreams and is happy when he wakes up to be able to hold you close to him and hear and feel your heartbeat.

✨Did I forget something? 🤔

Taglist:

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha dune #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #dune part two #dark aesthetic #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune giedi prime

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