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bbydoll18xx · 7 days

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I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 3)

Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader

Read parts 1 and 2 here: Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 based on this request:

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Word Count: 1.9k

Hey everyone! Due to popular demand, here is part 3! This part is more angsty and is heavily inspired by my personal anthem 'The Bolter' by Taylor Swift (she really is my muse these days lol)

I hope you enjoy!

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You wake up the next morning with sunlight streaming through the windows and a warm blonde cuddled into your neck. Paige is close, so close to you, and you can feel the tangled mess of the both of your legs underneath the blankets.

It feels a little too perfect, and before you can begin to enjoy Paige’s sleepy affection, a wave of anxiety washes over you. It envelops you; a dark hood pulled over your head and blinding you from seeing the light that was Paige.

Your chest begins to rise and fall in staccato breaths, and your labored breathing causes Paige to stir. She sleepily looks at you with a small smile. You had always loved the way she looked in the morning; her hair splayed over the pillows and her warmth beckoning to you, threatening to keep you in bed forever.

Her voice is still husky with sleep, and it rouses you from your slumberous contemplations. “Mornin’ baby.”

Hiding your blush in the soft blankets, you reply back shyly, “Hi, P.” Her gaze is heated, and it makes every nerve light up with warning signs. The whole situation was paradoxical, and you found yourself wanting to swim in her presence and run for the hills, simultaneously.

Fighting the urge to jump from the bed and leave without turning back, you snuggle back into Paige’s arms, eliciting content moans from the both of you.

You stay like that for a while, until a loud grumble from Paige’s stomach cuts through the silence, causing you both to giggle.

You stumble out of Paige’s bed, reluctant to leave the cocoon of safety and warmth, in search of breakfast. You both sit at the small kitchen table with bagels in front of you, slightly overlooked in favor of your phones. You are scrolling Twitter, while Paige is on tiktok, and you periodically show each other if you see something particularly funny. The public is going wild over your little display at the bar last night. There are already edits galore, and it fucking terrifies you.

Paige’s eyes are glued to the screen of her phone, and her stony face gives you no glimpse of what she is actually thinking. Until you see her bite her bottom lip, and she darts her tongue out to swipe across it. It brings some blood to your cheeks, and your head feels fuzzy. 12 hours ago you were the one sinking your teeth into the pillowy flesh of her bottom lip, and here you sat across from her, wondering if you’d ever be able to again.

The questions in your mind have you wanting to bound away once more, and you grip the edge of the table in a feeble attempt at grounding yourself back to reality. You didn't think you’d ever even have a chance to be anything more than friends with Paige. And here you were eating breakfast with her after kissing her and cuddling in her bed.

You were so fucked.

You replay the last few days in your head once more. You knew this whole thing was such a bad idea, but you really could not help yourself. Clearly, or you wouldn’t be sitting across from Paige right now.

Trying to pacify your bubbling panic, you ask to see Paige’s phone, wanting to see what the fuss was about. She smirks as she hands it to you, fingers brushing against yours with a kind of sheer electricity you had never felt with anyone else. You shudder at the contact, hoping to blame it on the chill of her slim fingers.

Avoiding her eye contact and glancing down at the screen, you see video upon video of the kiss, backed with sensual music that has your heart pounding.

“Oh, my gosh,” you mutter, embarrassed at the amount of views and comments all of the tiktoks had. The bar was not quite as dark as you remembered, giving the cameras of the onlookers the perfect view of your little make-out session.

You watch yourself kiss Paige a second time, forgetting that the aforementioned blonde was sitting right in front of you. It was your turn to bite your own bottom lip at the sultry music playing, eyes still glued to the way Paige had one hand loosely resting against your throat and the other on your jaw. Your hands were on her waist, pulling her closer and closer into you.

She would never be close enough.

Paige clears her throat, breaking you out of the trance from watching that damn kiss. “I think it was pretty believable, huh?”

It was hard to hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. “Um, yeah. I think so…Listen I’m glad I could help you and Az, but I gotta go.”

Paige’s face is shocked at your sudden excuse, and before she can even attempt to stop you from fleeing, you are already running around gathering up your clothes from last night.

“I’ll return your sweats after I wash ‘em,” you mumble, already halfway out the door. The door closes with a slam, and then nothing but silence. Paige looks around, her beautiful features twisted in a look halfway between stunned and horrified.

What had she done?

Little did she know that you were a bolter.

‘The bolter’ was fondly coined to you by your friends. You had craved a real, all-consuming love for many years, but everyone always left. So you learned to leave first. You kept your hopes low, thus ensuring no one could get them up and leave you shattered. And here you were drowning in Paige, and she had all the power over you. And you hated that.

Walking back to your dorm, you vowed to avoid the blonde until your emotions were fully in check; you needed your “ice queen” persona back. You knew it’d be difficult considering your job was to chronicle her life, but you were really fucking stubborn.

You refused to let your intimacy issues and your deep-rooted fear of being hurt ruin Paige’s lively disposition.

You spend the next several days engulfing yourself in schoolwork and your media job. Paige reaches out to you several times, but she gets left on read, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through you. You knew it was for the best.

But was it really?

You are pulled out of your thoughts a few evenings after leaving Paige by a pounding at your door. Your phone was open to tik tok once more, the images of you and Paige kissing had been like a drug to you; it was getting impossible to avoid.

With an exasperated huff, you drag yourself off of your chair to open the door, and you are greeted with the harsh expressions of Nika and Azzi.

Fuck.

Before you can even attempt to settle their apparent fury, the two girls are barging into your room, gesturing to you to take a seat. Reluctantly doing so, in an effort to avoid pissing them off even more, you look up at them and wait for the diatribe to follow.

Shockingly, it doesn't come. As you study their faces, they morph into genuine looks of hurt and disappointment. Somehow, that makes you feel worse.

Azzi starts. “You want to explain to us why you’re ignoring Paige all of a sudden?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…” you trail off.

Lies. Such lies.

You take a beat to gather your thoughts before continuing. “I don’t want to hurt her. But I can’t let myself get hurt either.”

Nika scoffs indignantly. “Please, Paige would never hurt you. We all know that.”

“I don’t know that,” you stress. “It’s killing me to think that I’m upsetting her, but it’s for the best. I’m terrible in relationships. The lines were already too blurry. I just drew the line in the sand before anything else could happen.”

Azzi flashes her puppy dog eyes at the hurt in your voice, and wraps a comforting arm around you.

“Life is too short to mourn something that’s still living,” she says wisely. “You’re missing out on a lot of happiness with that mindset.”

You knew there was some truth to her words, and taking a deep breath, you promised to reach out to Paige once your thoughts were in order.

Feeling satisfied with your answer, Nika and Azzi left, but not without several threats. You couldn’t fuck this up this time.

Abandoning every instinct inside your body, you make the familiar trek back to Paige’s apartment. Your mind was racing, trying to find the words to the feelings that had been consuming you for an endless amount of time. Your legs carry you until you stop in front of the same door you had hurried out of a few days prior. A hand reaches up to knock, defiantly separating you from the dread that was attempting to stop you.

A few seconds pass, and you hold in a shaky breath in the anticipation of seeing your beautiful Paige once more. The door cracks open hesitantly, her blue eyes peering around the edge of it. Your heart breaks once your eyes are finally able to fully feast upon her features. She looks absolutely ruined. Her usually bright face was broken and expressionless, and it was hard to miss the darkness under her eyes.

Tears spring to your eyes at her misery, and you immediately pull her into a hug.

“I’m so fucking sorry, P. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” The apologies fall out of your mouth like an incantation, desperate to fix your mess.

Paige sniffles into your hair, and you want to fall apart once more. Moving your hands to her face, you wipe away the tears that had already fallen, silently vowing to never make her cry again.

“What did I do?” she asks quietly, feeling humiliated that you had seen her in such a vulnerable state.

“Nothing except give me the best kiss of my life. And I got scared. And when I’m scared, I run,” you whisper, still cradling her head in your small, shaking hands.

“I messed up, not you. My feelings started consuming me, and I was so worried that once we didn’t have to pretend to date anymore, I would fall apart. Because I need you. I need you, Paige, and that fucking scares me.”

You were being verbose at this point, hoping you could convince her.

Paige finally looks at you, her eyes rimmed with red, and whispers “I need you, too.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, and pulled her back into you once more, stroking her hair.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence that had been missed by the both of you. Once yours and Paige’s faces have dried up, and you are swaddled into her warm embrace again, you look up at her with a small smile on your face.

“You think we could kiss like that again?”

Paige just grins in response and pulls you in.

She was never letting you leave again, and you were no longer going to be the bolter.

Ta-da! What do we think? Should I write a part 4?

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x you #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #friends to lovers #fake dating #paige #angst #the bolter

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dearharriet · 2 months

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James potter + “you’re really red right now.” Please 🙏

this one was so fun :3 thank you for requesting! (wc: 679) (cw: blood, mentions of drinking + reader being drunk)

James ushers you further down the dingy hall, doing his damndest to keep you upright. It’s hard to help him with that task when the floor is moving and the lights on a constant strobe.

“This was a terrible idea,” James shouts, his voice nearly lost under slightly disturbing accordion music.

In hindsight, you perhaps had a touch too much to drink, but you’ll never admit it. “Was not.”

As if in retaliation, the floor gives a particularly cruel jerk, sending you sideways.

“Good lord, you’re sloshed.”

“James, it’s not me, it’s the floor!” You let James hoist you up, stalling a moment against a technicolor wall. “It won’t stop moving.”

“It has stopped, you lightweight, that’s what sent you.”

Three teenagers pass you two, laughing and staring, likely interpreting your pause for something it’s not. You give James a strange look before realizing he’s right—you’re perfectly still against the wall now.

“I don’t think I like this funhouse.”

Finally breaking his stony concern, James pulls you back down the corridor, laughing breezily.

“I’m sure you’re having more fun than me, at least.”

Making a face, you hold to his hand at your waist, steadying yourself.

“I didn’ realize it’s a competi-shun,” you slur. James breathes a laugh that you can feel against your neck, but says nothing in response.

Rounding the corner with a toddler’s level of balance, you come upon at least three duplicates of yourself.

“Ohhh,” you groan. “James, I might be more drunk than I thought.”

With a chuckle, James urges you forward. “I’m glad you can admit it, but these are just mirrors, love.”

Somehow, that makes you all the more disoriented, suddenly fighting a new wave of vertigo. James seems to anticipate this, because he shortens his leash on you, holding you mere inches from his chest with a vice grip. He’s muttering to himself bitterly about something you can’t comprehend.

He walks you towards the other pair of you, before diverting to the right, towards yet another mirror.

“James, we can’t go that way.”

“Try not to make this more irritating than it already is, please.”

You tamp down the urge to argue, though you can’t resist pushing out your bottom lip in a pout. James silently steers you through the dizzying maze with growing ease. Eventually, he turns what you expect to be the last corner, and you jerk back like you’ve been shocked.

“Oh my god,” James gasps. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Swaying, you step out of his grip, feeling your face start to ache.

“Are you alright?” James’ voice is distant in your ears, like you’re wearing earmuffs, but his hands holding your upper arms are hot and sharp.

Focusing your double vision on his face, you pull your aching brows together.

“James…”

“Love, I’m sorry.” A ghost of amusement tugs at his lips, but he’s trying hard not to laugh. You’re still so confused, and James’ face…

“You’re really red right now,” you say.

At that, James finally breaks, hanging his head in silent shaking laughter. You’re not sure what’s so funny about it, he’s red from head-to-toe like a cartoon character after eating something spicy. Even his clothes.

“I’m serious!”

James looks at you again, smiling something awful. “I’m sure, pretty girl. You’re red, too.”

Shying, you sniff, your nose oddly runny. Of course you’re red, with James calling you pretty all of a sudden.

“Do you have a crush on me?” you ask dopily, reaching up to grab his muscled forearms.

James’ nodding excites you, but he says, “How about we talk about that when your nose isn’t bleeding.”

You blink. “Is it?”

Instead of answering, James frees a hand from your arms to swipe under your nostril. He shows you, holding up a black-red thumb as evidence.

“Oh. I suppose it has been dry lately.” You take his hand, missing it on you already. “That could be why.”

James sighs, beginning to chaperone you out of the awful mirror maze, toward a daunting set of shifting stairs.

“You’re going to be the death of me, lovey.”

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

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waywardducks · 9 months

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I just can't stop thinking about the idea of y/n and Jason having a meet-cute in a bookstore! It's so cozy and sweet. I’ve had this idea in my head for days now.

CW: Fluff, a bit OOC, mentions of fighting and of Jason’s death, Gn reader

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Jason was fighting with Bruce, which meant Jason would not be going to the manor for the next few weeks. At least not until one of the men decided to give in and apologize. Which would be a while this time. Usually, when it is Jason’s fault his brothers will talk him into apologizing and help him recognize where he was wrong. But this time Bruce is wrong. Meaning no one, not even Alfred will be able to get this man to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe they could if Jason fought hard enough, and threw enough hard-hitting insults to breach the stony exterior that is Batman. But Jason doesn’t feel like breaking his own heart right now, so he’s opting for the long run, waiting (im)patiently as far from Batman as possible. Bruce will come back and apologize eventually when the silence and lack of his second son start feeling too close to when Jason was dead. When memories start to surface grief begins to overwhelm the man.

For now, though, Jason is content to sit in his apartment and read. The only real downside is that the book he had been reading was currently still in the manor’s library. Technically Jason could just ask one of his siblings to retrieve it for him, but he’s still hurt from his fight with his father and doesn’t feel like doing something vulnerable, like asking for help.

So he heads to the bookstore. He’s been to this particular bookstore a million times. It’s cozy, nestled on the edge of Blüdhaven, close to the border. Sometimes Jason would head to Dick’s apartment afterwards, since he was in his brother’s neighborhood. The shop has a little cafe area, indoor and outdoor seating, a covered patio with a couch that Jason enjoyed sitting on when it was raining.

A bell chimes his arrival as he entered the small shop.

“Welcome in!” An older woman greets from behind the counter.

Jason gives the woman a smile before making his way to the Shakespeare section. He began browsing the titles, trying to find the exact one he was looking for.

The bell chimes and again, but Jason paid it no real mind, only acknowledging that a third person was now in the store.

“Oh! Y/n. How lovely to see you again.” The woman at the front exclaims.

“Hey Mrs Goodmen! How’ve you been?” The newcomer asked.

“Just perfect, thank you for asking dear. What brings you in today?”

“I need a new copy of a book I love. I let my friend borrow it a year ago and I don't think I'm getting it back.”

“Well, you go find it, let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course, thank you!”

There was silence again as the person began browsing aisles. Jason smiled as he found the book he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

“Oh, how funny.” A voice startles Jason out of his skimming and he looks up. It was the person that had been talking the lady.

“What's funny?” Jason asked, closing his book.

“That's the book I was looking for.” They say, pointing at paperback in Jason’s hands.

Jason smiles. “Oh, that is funny.”

“Great minds think alike.” The person jokes. “I'm Y/n, by the way.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Jason watches as Y/n grabs a copy of the same book off the shelf.

“I've read this like 8 times now. I'm planning on actually annotating it this time. It's just so good. Oh! I should check to see if they have that new book I wanted to read.” Y/n mumbles.

Jason thinks it's cute how distracted they got all of a sudden. They themselves were cute. The oversized sweater they’re wearing, the concentrated look on their face as they search for the book they need, even the way their hair looks like they just rolled out of bed.

Jason pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and writes his name and number on it quickly. He doesn’t normally do this sort of thing, maybe it was because this person had similar taste in reading. Jason isn't sure, but he did know that this person is cute and he wants to get to know them.

“Are you a Shakespeare fan?” Y/n asks all of a sudden.

Jason chuckles. “I suppose you can say that. Though I suppose I'm more of a classical literature fan.”

Y/n smiles a bit wider at that. “Me too! I especially love Greek mythology and Gothic romance. Oh! They do have it! Perfect, I've been so excited for this one!” Y/n plucks a book off the shelf and does a triumphant little twirl.

Jason takes note of the book in her hand. “Biography of Mary Casset?”

Y/n shows Jason the books. “Yep! She was an impressionist painter whose main focus was on the relationships between mother and child. She also used traditional Chinese printing methods. She was a hardcore feminist and never stopped even after facing backlash for being a female artist in a male-dominated industry. I adore her.”

Jason can't help but stare at Y/n as they gushed over the artist. The way they ramble and are so passionate about it has his heart beating a lot faster all of a sudden.

“She sounds pretty fucking cool. I might need to grab me a copy of that as well.” He says. “Oh yeah, said you wanted to annotate this book,” he lifts the book that brought them both here in the first place. “We should get together sometime, compare notes maybe?”

Y/n blushes. “Yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun.” They smile brightly.

“Awesome! Here, take this.” Jason hands them the paper with his number on it. “Text me, we’ll make it a date?”

Y/n’s blush darkens. “Of course! I, uh, maybe a cafe or something? I’ll, umm, I'll have to check and see when I'm free.” They stammer as they carefully place the paper in their bag.

“Perfect. I'll be waiting to hear from you then.” Jason winks before turning and walking to the counter. He checks out and makes his way back to his apartment.

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What do y'all think? I tried to keep the book nondescript but then went I ranted too hard about Mary Casset. My bad. I hope that my little explanation at the end there makes up for how ooc Jay is. Let me know if you want more! Feel free go request and give a prompt as well! I love writing and I want to do more of it!

Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I have major Dyslexia and Grammarly doesn't always fix everything. I hope you Enjoyed! 🌼🐛

#batman #dc comics #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #bruce wayne #red robin #aesthetic #damien wayne #jason todd x y/n #drabble #jason todd x you #jason Todd x reader #I love him

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robertdowneyjjr · 4 months

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Happy birthday!!! 🥳 Also, I absolutely love your writing~♡ (your stony soulmate au and vampire tony au are my favorite!!!)

For the prompt: Tony being dragged to a weapon's demonstration by Howard, decides to absolutely piss him off by wearing booty shorts and tank tops—distracting Howard's favorite soldiers: Steve and Bucky

hello ily sorry this has taken so long 🥲

———

As long as Stark Industries continues to make weapons, Tony has zero interest in “doing his part” for the company at these military shindigs. Sure, he’s glad that his dad is at least letting him head the efforts for defensive and medical tech, but until the day the weapons department is completely shut down, Tony will not give those power hungry generals the time of day.

So when Howard all but forces Tony into joining him for a five-day trip to Afghanistan for a weapons demonstration, Tony retaliates the best way he knows how. By shamelessly embarrassing his dad.

He takes his sweet time on the plane, lazing casually in his band t-shirt and jeans as they make their descent. He knows he’ll be expected to change into a more “appropriate” outfit once they land because that’s protocol, and he’s looking forward to watching Howard’s head explode later.

That’ll teach him to force Tony into doing anything weapons-related.

By the time the company jet lands, Howard has already changed into his perfectly pressed suit so he can greet the soldiers who have been sent to meet them.

“Hurry up and get changed, Tony. The general has sent his most elite squad to come get us,” Howard says. “Steve and Bucky are the best of the best. Let’s show them some respect and not keep them waiting.”

He turns towards the stairs to disembark.

“What the hell kind of a name is Bucky…” Tony mutters as he heads towards the back of the plane to change his clothes.

Five minutes later, he’s going down the plane stairs like a pageant queen, never mind the fact that he’s dressed like the polar opposite. The chatter between Howard and the two beefcakes facing him abruptly stops when the blonde one spots Tony and immediately blushes a bright red.

When Howard turns to see what the problem is, he goes red too, albeit much uglier and angrier.

“Tony, what in the world are you wearing? Do you really think this is appropriate for a trip of this nature?” Howard seethes.

As he joins the group, Tony looks down at his clothes. His jean shorts cut off six inches above his knees, and his tank bearing his favorite band’s logo is only marginally long enough to not be considered a crop top. He looks damn good, and he knows it.

“I do in fact think these clothes are appropriate, actually. I dressed for the weather.” He pastes on a shit-eating grin and turns towards the soldiers. “Hi, I’m Tony.”

Before either of them could introduce themselves, Howard cuts in.

“Get back in there and change into a proper suit, Tony. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. All I’ve packed are shorts and tank tops and t-shirts.”

As Howard splutters, one of the soldiers — the blonde one who had been staring — takes Tony’s hand and shakes it.

“I’m Steve. I, uh, I think you look great. Um, you’ve got nice legs,” he says, his ears turning pink. Tony has a feeling it’s not because of the blazing sun.

The brunette standing next to Steve gently shoves him aside and takes his place in front of Tony.

“Heya, I’m Bucky.” He boldly steps closer and places his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “And if you really do need something else to wear, I’d be happy to lend ya somethin’. I’m sure you’d look incredible in my clothes, doll.” He winks.

Tony glances between the two soldiers, both of whom have not even spared Howard or anyone else a second of their attention since Tony sauntered up to them in his booty shorts and tank top.

He smiles.

Looks like this trip might not be a bad idea after all.

#tony loves blushy steve and flirty bucky in equal measure #stuckony #stevetony #stony #buckytony #winteriron #tony stark #stevebuckytony #kay writes things #bday prompts #sunnysideprincess #ask

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jellybear455 · 10 months

Text

What's left of Anna - The Last of Us - Part 2

Pairings: Ellie x mother figure reader; Joel x reader

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, follows plot of the HBO series, I gave reader a name just in case that triggers you

Word count: 4200

Summary: Nearly fifteen years after the death of her sister, Anna Williams, Isabel Bailey journeys through post-apocalyptic America with her niece and a closed off stranger.

Part 1

Ellie is fast asleep. Her head is in my lap, and I run my fingers through her hair with one hand. The other is covered in a mixture of Joel and the soldier’s blood. I have nothing to clean it with.

Tess and Joel sit a few meters away. They both clutch their guns, watching wearily. We had been hiding out in this decrepit building since late last night. It was the furthest we could go without the daylight.

“Why are you so attached?” Tess asks suddenly.

“Good morning to you, too.” I reply quickly, as though she and Joel hadn’t been taking shifts to watch Ellie all night.

“Seriously, Bel?” Tess raises an eyebrow. “How are we supposed to the trust you if we know nothing about you?”

“I know nothing about you, either. And my name isn’t Bel.” I don’t really care that she called me by my nickname. I’m just spiteful.

Joel lifts his head. “The soldier called you Bailey. How’d he know?”

I swallow. We’re out of the QZ. These two are the only protection I have. I can’t risk lying. “My name is Isabel Bailey. I’ve known Ellie since she was born, and before she was taken to FEDRA.”

“So you’re not her mother?”

“No,” Her mother, my sister, is dead, I want to say, but the words burn at my throat.

“And the soldier?” Joel presses.

“My turn,” I say quickly. “How do you know Marlene?”

Joel glances at Tess, before speaking again. “How did the soldier know your name?”

He stares at me intensely. His eyes are stony, and there is no trace of the faraway look I saw last night. The staring contest lasts for a few more seconds before Ellie stirred.

“Did you guys sleep at all?” She asks with a yawn. She moves to stand, and Joel raises his gun. “Do I look infected?”

“Show us your arm.” Joel insists.

“Yeah. It’s not getting any worse, is it.” Ellie snarks back.

“Ellie. Tone.” I remind her. My lips twitch slightly despite myself.

Tess and Joel exchange a look for the millionth time this morning. There has to be something between then. The thought makes my throat tighten. I didn’t have time to ponder the feeling before Ellie is talking again.

“If we’re out in the open city, why aren’t we getting swarmed?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Joel replies without looking at her.

“Well, I’m gonna.”

Tess stares. “What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?”

“I’m not infected.” Silence. “She found me after I was bitten.”

“And she didn’t shoot you.”

“Clearly not. She’d lock me up and have her guys test me everyday to see if I was getting sick.”

“Test you how?” Tess asks.

I shift slightly, willing Ellie not to say much else.

“I have to pee.” Ellie says abruptly.

“Test you, how?”

“That’s enough, Tess.” I warn.

“It’s Theresa.” She mocks.

“They made me count to ten then hold out my hand and keep it steady. But, you know, I think what impressed them the most was that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster.” Ellie stands up quickly. “Now, can I please?”

Joel stands too, raising his gun. I grab my own and move in front of Ellie slightly. He sends me an irritated look.

“Fine,” Tess says, breaking the silence. “Back there, you can find a spot. Here. Tear out a couple pages.” She tossed Ellie a magazine.

“Are you sure there is nothing bad in here?” Ellie asks as she disappears through a rotting doorway.

“Just you.” Joel respond, sitting back down.

“Ha, funny.”

It was quiet for a long moment, before the annoyance boiling in my stomach bubbled over. “Jesus Christ. She’s just a kid.”

“We don’t take chances.” Joel replies after a beat. He looks down at his hand. It shakes slightly as he stretches it, and the sores look painful. Some of the irritation gives way to pity.

“Let me see.” I say, stepping forward and holding out a hand. Joel glares and Tess raises an eyebrow. “Chill out. I know what I’m doing.”

I sit cross legged in front of him, taking his hand carefully. The skin on his knuckles is torn and beginning to bruise. “Make a fist.” I instruct. “Tell me where it hurts.”

“I don’t think-”

“Tell me where it hurts.” Joel points to the knuckle of his middle finger. “Okay. Open.”

He stretches out his hand again, and I gently poke his hand, taking note of when he winced in pain.

“Marlene said you were a doctor.” Tess says.

I hummed, keeping my attention on Joel’s hand. “Graduated a few months before the outbreak.”

“I thought FEDRA took everyone with medical training?” Joel asks. I stay silent.

“That soldier knew who you were because you’re FEDRA.” Tess guesses.

“It’s fractured. Probably just hairline. If you’re careful it will heal quick.” I reply, pulling away. Joel grabs my hand with his injured one. His face contorts slightly. “I just told you to be careful.”

“Answer the question.” He presses.

I glance at Tess. She is staring intensely at me, clearly irritated with both mine and Ellie’s attempts to evade their questions. I sigh.

“Yeah, I’m FEDRA.” Tess opens her mouth to shout, but I cut her off. “I joined as a spy for a Fireflies. It wasn’t hard, all things considering. Then Ellie was born, and I shifted positions to watch over her instead.”

Tess drags her hand over her face. “So, you’re just another mindless follower.”

“No.” I snap back quickly. Now the truth was out, I couldn’t stop. “Marlene wanted me to dump Ellie. She was pissed I gave up my position for her.”

“I can imagine.” Tess replies, rolling her eyes.

I look up at Joel. He hasn’t said anything, but his hand still clutches onto mine tightly. “I didn’t know that soldier, but he came to me a few weeks ago for a broken nose. I can promise you that I am not loyal to FEDRA, or the Fireflies, really.”

Joel looks up. “Then who are you loyal to?”

Anna. “Ellie.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t be shitty. She made it through the night.” I snap.

“That doesn’t matter. It will happen, sooner or later, alright?” He turns to Tess. “We’re still close to the wall. We sneak her back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”

“This is our best shot. We take her back to the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm. They’re gonna scan her, and they will kill her.” Tess shoot back.

Joel squeezes my hand subconsciously. “Better her than us. We need to stop talking about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”

“She is not gonna turn, Joel.” I hiss. “We are not turning around, do you hear me?”

I glare at him, and he frowns back.

“Are you guys gonna make out or something?” Ellie suddenly appears behind me. I jolt in surprise.

“Shit, El.”

“What? You guys are holding hands, in case you didn’t notice.”

I snatch my hand from Joel’s, but regret it when I see him wince in pain. Ellie sits back down in the middle of the room, placing the rifle I took across my knees.

“You hungry?” Tess asks awkwardly. “You can share some of ours.”

Joel gives her an offended look.

“Thanks, but Marlene sent me with my own.” Ellie replies, pulling a sandwich out of her back.

Grinning, I rummage through the pack Tess gave me, finding a few sticks of jerky. I watch silently as Joel struggles to pull apart his jerky with his injured hand.

“Is that chicken?” Tess asks suddenly.

“Yeah,” Ellie replies nonchalantly. “Marlene says they get it from smugglers. Guess it’s not you guys.”

I snicker. “’Smugglers’ my ass.”

“You’re joking!” Ellie cries.

“Nah. The guy in the apartment next door has a room with just chickens. It’s inhumane, but fucking hilarious.”

Ellie laughs, but quickly sobers when Tess stalks forward. I scramble to my feet, and Joel quickly follows suit, gripping his gun.

“Why- it’s fine, Joel. Why are you so important to Marlene? And don’t lie to me, or we’ll take you back.”

Ellie gulps, glancing over at me. I open my mouth to protest.

“And don’t you say anything, Bel. We want it from her.” Joel cuts me off. I don’t argue. About Ellie or my name.

“You take me back you don’t get the battery.” Ellie replies confidently.

“You heard that?” Tess asks. Ellie shrugs. “Well then you must have heard he wants to shoot you.”

Ellie glances over at Joel. He looks away, only for his eyes to meet mine. I grasp my rifle tighter. He won’t shoot her. If he wanted to, he would have done it already. I saw how he didn’t hesitate before killing that guy outside the QZ.

“I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult.” Tess stalks closer, crouching in front of Ellie.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warns.

“Let her speak.” Joel demands, shouldering his gun. He’s injured, but he wont miss. I lower my rifle.

Tess continues. “Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doing this for us because, apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”

Ellie puts down her sandwich. “She told me not to tell anybody, and I’m gonna tell the first people that I-”

“Ellie…” I hiss.

“Shut it.” Joel snaps.

“There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

“I’ve heard this before.” Joel grumbles, putting down his gun. I follow suit.

“What ever happened to me is the key to finding the vaccine.”

“That’s what this is?” Joel snaps. “We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None if it works. Ever.”

“Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this!” Ellie shoots back, standing up.

“You and me both. This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”

I picks up my pack and rifle. “Fine. You go back to that hell hole. You look Marlene in the eye and tell her you’re too afraid to follow through.”

The quiet was deafening as Joel stared me down. I glower back, willing him to deny that he was afraid.

“Let’s just finish it.” Tess insists. “It doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t what they Fireflies say. If they believe she is, then we get when we want.”

Joel glars at me for a few more seconds. “Fine. But if she so much as twitches.”

“If you pull a gun on her you’ll be the one with the bullet between your eyes, alright buddy?”

Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a gurgle and a choke. I spin around, and she’s grinning. “Don’t you dare.”

“Sorry.” She whispers, looking slightly ashamed.

Joel exhales sharply picking up his rifle and attempting to shift the cabinet he showed in front of the door. I move to help, but he sends me a scowl. “Don’t call me buddy.”

Barely two minutes later, we’re outside, and Ellie is flabbergasted. “Woah…”

I was frozen, too, but for different reasons. Boston was in ruin. Sadness tugged at my gut. I wonder what my house looked like if this was the rest of the world. The only thing truly left of my sister is Ellie.

“Looks different in the daylight, huh?” grins Tess.

Joel hops onto a fallen chunk of cement, surveying the area. “We should get moving.”

It takes about five minutes of walking for Ellie to find her voice. She peers down a large crater, and I grab her pack to stop her from falling. “It looks like a fucked-up moon. Is this where they bombed?”

“Yeah,” Tess replies, slowing to a stop. Joel keeps walking. “They hit most of the big cities like this. They had to slow the spread somehow.”

“Worked here, but it didn’t in most places.” I speak up. It certainly didn’t work in Colorado.

Joel slows and comes to a half right on the edge of a huge empty street. There are no old cars or debris. It’s unnerving to see such an undisturbed space in an otherwise ruined city.

“State house is just across there. About a ten-minute walk if you could go straight.” Tess explains.

“’If’?” I ask at the same time as Ellie says, “So?”

“Long way, or the short way.” Joel replies, ignoring me.

“Well, it’s the long way of the ‘we’re fucking dead’ way.” Tess corrects. Well, that answers my question.

Ellie looks between the pair. “I vote long way based on that very limited information.”

“We have to check the hotel first.” Joel insists.

Tess takes the lead again, and Joel brings up the rear. It had been a long time since I’d walked freely. Or how ever free you could be when the world has ended. A little part of me misses the five years after the outbreak began. We never knew if we’d see the next day, or when we’d eat again, but after we met Marlene, I was free to do what ever I wanted. Anna wanted to settle, but I was wanted to explore and find survivors. My stubbornness got the better of me far too often, and Anna was dead because of it. The most I could do was keep Ellie from making the same mistakes. I owe my sister that much.

“Why are you still here?” Joel asks suddenly. I look up, surprised. Back to the present, where Anna was dead.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why are you here? You have stayed in the QZ. I don’t understand why you’re risking so much for that kid. And don’t say for the cure. If I’ve heard that once I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

I watch Ellie talk Tess’s ear off a few meters in front of us. “I told you. I’ve known Ellie since she was a baby.”

“But?” Joel presses. For someone so reserved, he had a lot of questions. “You said Marlene gave her to you to leave with FEDRA. Why would she give her to you?”

“I owed Ellie’s mother a debt.”

“What kind?”

I adjust my grip on my rifle anxiously. “One you don’t break.”

“And now?”

Silence falls. Even Ellie didn’t know I was her aunt. I wasn’t going to tell a stranger. Especially one who wanted to kill her. Tess and Ellie draw to a halt in front of us. I miss what Tess says, but I could see a bit of pride gleaming in her eyes.

Ellie tries to hide her grin. “Thanks.”

Slinging my rifle over my shoulder, I follow the pair over an upturned car.

“So,” Tess start talking again. “No ones gonna come looking after you? Mom, Dad… boyfriend?”

“Nope. I’m an orphan, and… no.” Ellie replies, wrinkling her nose slightly. I grin. “Bel’s my only family. And my only friend.”

“What about you, Doctor Bailey? No family?”

“No one but Ellie and Marlene.” I reply truthfully. The end of the world tends to do that to you. It takes nearly everything from you. Like sisters and courage.

Ellie looks around again. “Everyone said the city was crazy. Like, swarms of infected running around everywhere.”

“Not exactly like that.” Joel replies. It was the first he had spoken in a while.

“People like to tell stories.” Tess adds, smiling humourlessly.

“So, there aren’t super-infected that explode spores on you?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Shit, I hope not.”

“Or ones with split open head that see in the dark like bats?”

Tess looks at Joel, then me. I purse my lips, and Joel stares at the ground.

An uncanny scream echoes through the buildings. We freeze, straining to listen past the screeching crows. Subconsciously, I check my knife is still on my belt and pistol is within reach. Just in case. Ellie holds her breath, so I reach over and take her hand reassuringly. She squeezes back, holding tight as we waited.

“What was that?” She asks. None of us answer.

“Let’s keep moving.” Joel says instead.

Any inkling of companionship that we had built was gone.

A better name of the ‘hotel’ would have been the ‘lake’. Joel heaves the door open, scattering a few ducks and revealing the entire first floor was flooded. Once upon a time, the hotel would have been a grand establishment.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Ellie cries. “Did you ever stay in a place like this?”

“No, a little out of our league.” Tess admits.

“I did.” I answer with a grin.

Joel glances over at Ellie. “How do you even know about this stuff?”

“Have you heard of books?” She sasses back. “What was it like? Tell me everything. Don’t skimp on the details.”

I laugh out loud. It takes me by surprise. I haven’t laughed in a while. “My sister took me to a concert for my eighteenth birthday. Apparently, this is part of the experience.”

“Cool.” Ellie breathes. When I don’t say anything else she adds, “And?”

“Later, babe.”

Joel takes off down the steps towards the water.

“Wait, are we going in there?” Ellie asks, her fascination temporarily forgotten.

“Yeah. We gotta get to the stairwell on the other side.” Tess replies, following behind Joel.

Ellie looks petrified. “I, uh, I can’t swim.”

“Seriously?” Joel looks dumbfounded, and I send him a dirty look.

“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, smart ass. I mean-” He jumps off the last step. The water barely went past his knees.

“I don’t know how I was supposed to know that.” She replies, heading down the stairs more confidently. Still, she hesitates on the last step.

“It’s okay, El.” I reassure her, striding past through the water. I try not to think about what creepy crawlies could be swimming around.

“This is so gross.” Ellie laughs, rushing towards the service desk, and tapping the bell. The dull clunking caught Joel’s attention, and he turns to watch. “Ding ding! Yes, sir, I would like your finest suite please.”

I hoist myself up onto the desk. Shoving my finger under my nose like it’s a moustache and putting on a fake accent, I reply, “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage?”

“Yes, sir!” Ellie giggles back.

“Right away, ma’am.”

“You guys are weird.” Joel remarks.

Ellie grabs the luggage holder, pushing it forward. “You’re weird- oh fuck!”

A body falls from the holder, knocking against Ellie’s leg. I point my gun towards it, but it quickly becomes clear that the skeleton is harmless.

“Oh my god…” Ellie pants.

“Are you okay, honey?” I ask, hopping down from the desk. I notice Joel is suddenly right in front of me, gun raised. Last I saw, he was nearly at the stairs.

“Yeah- I… sorry.”

Joel offers Ellie his hand, helping her up from where she leant against the piano. Too late, he realises its his injured one, and he flinches as she let go. I glance at it as I walk past. The bruising is purple now. I make a note to check on it soon.

“Are you okay?” Tess calls out.

“Yeah. Fucking fabulous.” Ellie replies with a sigh.

I shake my head. I wonder where that kid got her mouth, because it sure as hell wasn’t her mother.

Climbing the stairs made me miss elevators. My heart is pounding by the time Joel announces we were there.

Tess pauses to catch her breath. “Fuck. Holy shit.”

“You can say that again.” I huff.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Ellie insists. The kid was barely swayed.

“Cut me some slack, girl.”

“Is it ‘cause you’re old?”

I scoff. “I’m forty-five, not ninety.”

“Try climbing ten flours with these knees, kid.” Tess replies, gesturing for us to follow Joel.

We round a corner and stop dead before a pile of rubble. What that supposed to be there?

“When the fuck did that happen?” Tess grumbles. Guess not. They try the doors. Blocked. “Okay, I guess maybe I could climb up there, work my way around. Open it from the inside.”

Ellie pipes up, “Uh, no, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier-”

“No. I’ll go.” I cut her off.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable.” Tess scoffs. “Help me up?”

I shrug. “You were just complaining about your knees, you know.”

Joel moves to help Tess, but I get there first. Kneeling, I cup my hands. Tess steps up, and I give her a boost. She crawls into the gap, disappearing in the debris. “You good?”

“Yeah, it’s just a bit of a mess. Might need a few minutes.”

Ellie slumps to the floor, leaning her lead against the wall. I follow suit, and eventually, so does Joel.

“I could have done that.” Joel mutters.

“Not what that hand you’re not. Let me see.” I demand. He holds it out reluctantly, and I examine the bruising. “I told you to be careful with it. That means don’t use it unless absolutely necessary.”

“I haven’t used it.” He retorts.

“Don’t lie.” I reply simply. “It’s childish.”

Ellie pulls out her knife, flipping it in her hand over and over.

“Nice knife,” Joel says. Ellie glares at him, before tossing the knife again. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“The circus.” She snaps. She folds the knife up. “Where are you from?”

“Texas.” Joel replies after a moment.

“What about Tess?”

“Detroit. It’s in Michigan.”

Ellie scoffs. “I go to school, I know where Detroit is.”

I continue to stare at Joel’s hand, partly to hide my grin and partly because I like holding his hand. Wait, what?

“So, are you and Tess like…”

“Pass” Joel answers quickly. I’ll take that as a no. My stomach flips a little. What is wrong with me? I’ve known this man all of about five minutes.

“How did you get to Boston?”

“Pass. No more questions about me.”

I huff a little and Joel gives me a look. He doesn’t move his hand from mine.

Ellie let the silence continue for less than thirty seconds. “How long do infected live?”

“I thought you said you went to school.”

“Yeah, it was a shitty one.”

“Ouch.” I grin. “I though I was a good teacher.”

“Oh, shut up. You were. Everyone else sucked.” Ellie replies with a smirk.

Joel exhales, thinking for a moment. “Well, some live for about a month or two. But there’s others, been walking around 20 years.”

“You guys ever kill one?”

“Yeah, a lot.” Joel replies without hesitation. Ellie looks at me expectantly.

“Um, yeah. A bunch. Too many.” I shift uncomfortably, and Joel’s thumb traces a circle on my hand.

“Is it hard knowing they were people once?” Always with the difficult questions.

Joel doesn’t answer. I sigh. “Yeah. But they aren’t people anymore, honey. It’s kinder to kill them then let them live like monsters.”

Ellie thinks it over for a second. “Joel?” He hums in recognition. “What about that guy last night?”

Joel freezes, his hand clutching mine a little tighter. Ellie notices, but she doesn’t say anything. A thud sounds from the other side of one of the doors. Joel grabs his gun, his hand slipping from mine.

“You can put the gun down, Joel.” Tess’s muffled voice calls out. She pushes something heavy out of the way, then opens the door.

“What now?” Joel asks.

Tess doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she leads us through the room and out onto a balcony. I lean over the end, looking down into the street. Sprawled below are dozens of infected. They groan and twitch, but otherwise remain motionless. The sight is unsettling. “Jesus.”

“There is so many.” Ellie whispers.

“The last time we were here they were still deep inside the buildings. But I guess enough people can through looking for a QZ, they went inside seeking shelter, and that’s how they’d get more and more of the city, bit by bit, year after year.” Tess explains, and I feel nauseous.

The infected writhe in a sort of Mexican wave. “They’re connected.” Ellie realises.

“More than you know,” Tess replies. “The fungus also grows underground. Long fibres like wires, some of them stretching over a mile. You step on a patch of cordyceps in one place, you’ll wake a dozen infected from somewhere else. Now they know where you are. Now then come. You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand?” Ellie looks surprised, doubtful, almost. “This is important. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Ellie nods, stepping back from the balcony. “So, what now?”

“Short way?” I ask, looking over the buildings.

Tess and Joel stare at each other, another silent conversation. “Museum.” Joel says finally.

Taglist:

#fanfiction #x reader #tlou #tlou x reader #joel x reader #ellie x reader #the last of us #ellie williams #anna williams x reader #joel miller #reader instert #the last of us hbo #cordyceps #joel miller x reader #ellie williams x reader

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whumpinggrounds · 2 years

Text

No One To Help You But Yourself

CW: captured, hero whumper, villain whumpee, beating, broken ribs, blood, self done first aid, inaccurate medical treatment (binding said broken ribs)

It’s dark, when the villain comes to, and it smells like earth. It takes time to figure out where they are, and why they’re there, but they have time. They have time to gather themselves, to piece together the broken shards of memory and the ache rooted deep under their scalp.

There was a chase. And then a battle. The villain, low on resources, ran as long as they could, then took a stand.

And, unsurprisingly, they lost.

It had been that big guy, the one built like a brick house. He’d had a slender figure with him, the one that played leader when the two were out together. Together, they’d worked absolutely seamlessly, and even the villain had to admire how perfect they were as a team.

Too bad the big guy was such a colossal asshole.

Well, the villain amends, maybe his friend is an asshole too. After all, they have no memory of who stuck them in this dank basement, head throbbing, whole body composed of aches and bruises. They aren’t bound or gagged, which they suppose is a positive. No one seems to have hurt them while they were unconscious. It’s a privilege that apparently, isn’t always afforded to the kid that was ever-so-recently under their care.

The thought of the kid makes them glower. Suddenly, they’re feeling a lot less amused by the idea that they’ve been captured. Maybe this is a good time for them to seek some information of their own.

As if on cue, there’s a distant banging, growing closer as they listen. The villain remains sprawled on the floor where they must’ve been tossed. They’re not going to waste any energy pretending to be ready to attack or something like that. They’re exhausted and stripped of any usable weapon. They stretch out on the floor and wait for the threat to come to them.

It takes but a moment. Even in the dim, underground half-light, they recognize the gigantic figure of the kid’s mentor. Upon seeing his stony face, the villain finds they can’t resist a stupid joke.

“Oh, finally. Are you here to break me out?”

The hero’s eyes narrow into slits. “Very funny.”

“Mm.” The villain folds their hands behind their head. “You don’t seem amused.”

Their opponent grunts. “Been told I don’t have much of a sense of humor.”

“Well, that’s just too bad. Sense of humor is one of the first things I look for in my companions, personally.”

The big guy scowls. His little half-mask is cute. As if that’s going to keep his identity a secret when he has bright red hair and he’s maybe the tallest man the villain has ever seen. “I’m not your fucking companion.”

“What?” The villain is almost enjoying this now. “What’d you bring me back here for? Now my feelings are hurt.”

Unimpressed, the big guy fixes him with a glare. “You’re here so you can tell me what you did with all that fucking money.” He cracks his knuckles, and each snap echoes like a gunshot. “So, let’s start now.”

“Mm.” The villain nods, thoughtful. “I totally see why you’re interested in the money. I, myself, was pretty interested in the money. It’s why I took it in the first place.”

It’s too bad they’re still wearing their own mask because the hero is missing out on their most winning smile, aimed straight at him. It might do something to improve the absolutely furious expression on his face. Ah, well. They’re opening their mouth to say something else, undeniably clever and charming, but before they can say another word, the hero is cutting them off.

“I don’t want to stand around and listen to you chatter at me. I’m going to start asking questions, and you’re going to answer. Or else.”

The villain considers their options.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a very direct communication style? I’m really appreciating that about you.”

Pain lights up the villain’s side. It explodes out from their ribs, sending the breath from their lungs in a surprised whoosh. It’s been a long time since they’ve had to deal with this kind of specific, directed pain, and they can tell from the strength of the kick that they’re in for a lot worse.

“Wow.” Their voice comes out raspy, strained, but they’re unable to resist the temptation to make a snarky comment. “Anyone ever told you how strong you are?”

By the time the hero leaves, there’s something broken in the villain’s lower ribs. Every breath comes with effort, and a stabbing pain, deep in the lungs. They don’t know if the hero leaves because he’s bored, or he has something else to do, but he promises, in that low, furious voice of his, that he’ll be back.

And when he returns, it will be to show the villain what real pain is.

“Oh?” The words come far more labored. They’re sharper than the jokes the villain began with. “Like the kind you put your sidekick through?”

The hero pauses. One hand is on the doorknob already. He shakes his head. “No wonder you two get along. You’re both bleeding fucking hearts.”

The villain’s breathing is too harsh and hard to let them reply before the hero is gone. Not that they have much to say to that asshole, anyway. Just thinking about the kid makes them growl to themselves where they lie, half-sprawled on the floor.

But no one is going to help the kid if they bleed out in some crappy little basement hidey-hole. With a deep breath that sends a zinging twang through their chest, the villain hauls themselves upright. Stars dance in their vision, and bile rises in their throat, but they’re upright. It’s a start. They wait until they no longer feel like they’re going to vomit. Then, slowly, bruises protesting as they do, they peel off their shirt. Another pause, a necessary rest. Then to tear it into strips.

When their shirt is in ribbons, the villain takes their longest pause of all. Fingers clenching and unclenching against their thighs, they take a few deep breaths and gather their strength for what they’re about to have to do.

With fingers that are trembling just slightly, they wrap the first strip of cloth around their chest, hissing through their teeth as the fabric slides and presses against their broken ribs. When the first binding ribbon is in place, they squeeze their eyes shut, and pull hard.

The pain is blinding, breathtaking. The villain bends in half, sucking in harsh, panting breaths of air, fighting the urge to vomit. Their hands shake, but they don’t lose grip. Before they can lose their nerve, they knot the strip of fabric.

There. One tie, done. Only, what, a dozen more before their ribs are properly bound?

Just the thought of it makes an unwilling whimper leak between the villain’s lips. But it’s not like they have a choice. A hero put them here; there’s certainly no one coming to help them. Somewhere out there, that kid is counting on them, even if he doesn’t know it yet. But before they save anyone else, they’re going to have to save themselves.

Gritting their teeth, the villain picks up the next strip of fabric.

@whatwasmyprevioususername, @snowshower, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whumpywritings, @princess-poopsicle, @junoswhumpdrawer

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #no.11 #no.13 #are you here to break me out #self done first aid #oc #fic #male whumpee #male whumper #hero whumper #villain whumpee #beating #captured #blood #broken ribs #inaccurate medical treatment #august the blur

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mochidreambubble · 1 year

Text

From Golden Grove, Love Sunset Bird

Ao3 version here

previous - next

Two: Now and Forever Step 1 Prologue ~ Pretty Smiles, Pretty Words

Dear Mermaid of Sunset Bird,

Sorry for making you wait so long for my letter. I really miss getting letters from you too, so know one of the first things I’m doing is writing to you.

It’s pretty right? I was nervous, since Mama said it’s so different from our last home in the city, but everything here feels like it’s right out of a storybook. I’m still just a tiny bit nervous. I left all my friends behind. I still have Mama, but…

Kids my age already have friend groups right? What if no one wants me to play with them…

I’m glad I have you at least. I wish you were here. I wish I could go to Sunset Bird! I want to meet you! I want to meet Cove! I know so much about him, but it’s different when you meet face to face!

Mama says I should think of this as an adventure, like in my favourite books, but

“Sweetie! Come over and take a look.”

You stop writing and stand back up from your crouch, clipboard securely in your arms again, your camera dangling from your neck, and you rush over to Mama’s side. You place your clipboard, the half written letter securely collapsed, and gently place it atop one of the carry on bags on the porch. Good thing too, as Mama starts insisting you explore. Tempting of course, as you’d bet you’d take some pretty nifty pictures. Mama also always has good reasons for suggesting things.

Maybe Mama just had magic, or could see the future. For it led to a mystery of a paper plane thrown your way. Gave you a bit of a shock. Mama considered it a mystery, one you were obviously up to ask for. It was just like your Stony Girls or Herlock Sholmes mystery novels!

You take snapshots of the forest path, the beautiful colours of fall. A crossroad, a choice to make.

A boy named like the season, the prettiest person you’ve seen.

A sparkly surprise from a very pretty girl!

You think there has to be some kind of record for meeting very pretty people back to back.

The boy, Qiu or Autumn - he said both were fine right? - was a funny kid but he was also a bit… Airheaded? No, not quite right. Scatterbrained? Who’s to say?

“Next time I’m not gonna tell you about it…”

Definitely. You were so totally not gonna tell him about lost pages. (A lie, of course. Not that you would know it just yet.)

Qiu smiles, in the way only someone who breathed and lived confidence could. Smug even?

“I don’t know about that,” He grins, hands casually supporting the back of his head. “You seem really nice. You’d help me out again. Thanks.”

The girl - with such a pretty name!! - Tamarack, made you really curious. She lived with her Omi and Opa - her grandparents. You never know what it was like to live without your Mama…

But she was so sparkly and bright you couldn't help but feel drawn to her. And she said she liked the earmuffs your Mama got for you! So she was a certified good bean in your book~

You tell your Mermaid Friend as much, as you huddle in your sleeping bag. You hesitate, for a moment, to tell them about the weird butterflies you get when you see Qiu. It’s different from the sparkling joy you know you have when you think Tamarack may be your first gal pal in Golden Grove.

It’s kind of confusing I guess. Maybe you have words of wisdom, oh Mermaid of the Sunset Seas.

(You decide to tell them after all.)

Anywhoosies ;3

Write to me soon! I miss hearing from you. Let me know if you want me to send you a postcard next time instead. I think I may find some pretty ones.

Love,

Golden Grove~ (Because yay!!! Mama and I officially moved in!!)

#our life beginnings & always #my fic #my writing #our life now and forever #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #From Golden Grove Love Sunset Bird fic #We're still friends even if we're miles apart fic series

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shcnshi · 1 year

Note

Truth Serum + is there something that you've always kept a secret, even though you want to share it with someone desperately?

truth serum / accepting

it hurts . . . it hurts . . . it hurts . . . make it S T O P . i'm scared . . . why are they doing this to me ??

words echo loudly in his head . . . the question isn't unexpected , gaia always pried where it hurts most , as if she's digging her blunt nails into the cracks of his skin , trying to FIND something beneath the stony statue that is shanjie . he has a lot of secrets , secrets no one is prepared for . one that'll haunt them if they're empathetic , one that'll shock if they're sensitive . . . shanjie has a lot of secrets . but he'd rather NOT share . it's not government secrets , whatever strange blacklist . conspiracies , hidden agendas , kill orders , clandestine missions . . . no . that's not secrets he desperately want to share , he doesn't care for them . people will eventually find out , if someone does enough digging , they'll find out about all the things the government's kept hidden . no , not those secrets . lips pulling taut into a thin line , he doesn't want to share . if he does , he'll be confronted with reality , with his own thoughts , with his own emotions that he locked away and bottled up . those are too much for him to handle , and he wasn't trained to handle it . his thoughts , his emotions . . . they never taught him how to deal with it . he hates how he HAS to share , staring at the woman with steely eyes that exuded displeasure and stress . he can't keep his glance focused on gaia for long and soon finds himself averting his gaze -- out of guilt -- as he tries to focus on anything but the present . dissociating was what he often did under duress , this was certainly one of those moments . he was trained to endure torture , but THIS is different . biting the inside of his cheek , he sucks in a deep breath that comes out as a shaky exhale . sinking into his seat as his eyes focuses on anything but gaia . he doesn't want to see what look she'll have on her face . he'd be compelled to comfort her , and that wasn't his forte . funny how he's about to bare his mind to someone and he feels he'll end up having to COMFORT them after being asked to do so . " i'm scared . . . people think i'm this fearless , invincible killing machine , " he murmurs , " i hurt . . . it always HURTS , my body . . . my mind , everything . i'm not a machine , not a robot . . . but i can't say anything , " he says , " that's the secret . " he says , it doesn't sound much , but it's always something he desperately wants to let out . his cries for help , his cries of pain , his fear that gnaws ever so presently in his mind . it sounds like a small thing , but to shanjie who had grown up suppressing all that makes him HUMAN , being punished for any OUNCE of emotion , his body feared the pain more than anything so his young self learned to bite his lips until it bled , just so it'd stop the punishment . he learned not to complain , not to say a word when his body hurts , not to utter any noise when he was scared . it became a well-guarded secret when his heart raced out of fear , when his body screamed in pain , when his mind shatters from too much duress . . . he said NOT a word of it . " it's nothing big . . . not some earth-shattering secret you were expecting , was it ?? " he asks , a soft laugh leaving his lips , tone mocking and derogatory . not a laugh directed towards the woman but unto himself . he is pathetic compared to many . . .

#( answered. )#thanks for sending!#terestris

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darkfeyfanatic · 1 year

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I want this to be the first half of the first chapter of my new fic. But id like some overall feedback for what I have now!

What do y'all think? ↓

Feeling herself die was a funny thing. She had seen death so many times before, helping commit elders to fly with the ancestors, watching as they became one with the earth.

But this was different.

Riza knew that there were going to be casualties. No battle went without them. But she didn't expect to die on the outskirts of the fight, bleeding out on a stony ground, surrounded by crumpling buildings, wounded guards, and distant screams.

It felt wrong somehow. As if she were betraying her own by daring to fade away slowly, instead of dying in battle for the hope of a better future.

Riza couldn't even move if she wanted to, to at least return to the battlefield of the Ulstead castle. Her wings couldn't carry her, one had been shot through with dozens of iron bolts, and the other was broken, having snapped under her weight when she fell to the hard ground.

The stone beneath her had grown warm and damp with her blood, its thick scent mixing with the dust filled air. The pain of her injuries had all but faded, numbness setting in as the sound of the world began to slip away.

This was truly it. She would die.

No family by her side, no lover, no friends. Just a barren street and the sounds of a fading war. Not even her magic could save her. The dozens of iron bolts still lodged in her stomach were slowly sapping it away, killing her just as it had killed Conall.

Oh, if he could see her now. The healer he had always had such hope for, slowly dying, all because she wanted to help save the humans who had no part in the fight. Choosing to evacuate the streets in the name of hopeful peace, only to suffer the same as he had.

Letting her tired eyes slip closed, Riza simply waited for her end to come. It wouldn't be long, just a few more minutes.

It felt like falling asleep.

A loud but distant yell caught her attention however, distorted and warbled. It sounded like a woman, desperately screaming for something.

The sensation of hands on her all but snapped the jungle fey into focus. The pain of her broken wing almost pulling a scream from her throat as she felt herself being lifted.

What was happening?

Her wings were limp and dragged across the ground, being nothing but dead weight as she was laid on a hard wooden surface.

Humans. She could smell them. Even if her eyelids felt too heavy to lift, her nose had never failed her. What did the humans want from her? She had tried to help them.

Some sort of cloth was being held to her stomach, with more voices shouting for things Riza couldn't understand. She could feel her wings being moved, her head being gently lifted.

The fey must have lost consciousness for a moment, as she suddenly heard her sister's voice. She sounded devastated, as if she were pleading to Riza. Shrike had never sounded like that. At least not surrounded by others.

A hand took hers, warm and shaking. All Riza could do was weakly squeeze back.

There was another on her left. Even at her weakest, Riza could feel the warmth of their magic, they were strong. And elder perhaps? Or at least another spiritual fey come to help send her off?

How lucky she was, she would get a proper goodbye.

A feeling of spreading warmth surrounded the fey. Calm yet mighty. It swirled around her chest and attached itself to her fading core, pouring energy into it, and gently guiding it to her entire being.

Riza could feel the iron still stuck within her be pulled out, one by one in a quick succession. And she felt the wounds it left behind close as quickly as they could.

And even the sensation of the bones of her wings melding back together.

But she was still weak.

So tired.

Her conscience slipped away once again.

And all was silent.

#maleficent #dark fey #maleficent: mistress of evil #moe stuff #moe fic #writting stuff

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iheartgracie · 2 months

Text

foolish hearts funny claudia quotes

“We all know magenta is not pink, right?” She looks to me. “Right?”

“Abso-tootin-lutely!” I declare loudly, because I am a moron.”

“But Paige Breckner just took the cake in the breakup department. I want you to be better than you are. If I were Iris, I would’ve disintegrated on the spot.”

“We heard your phone,” Paige says.

“How do you know it wasn’t your phone?” I reply. Because. I am. A moron.”

“I didn’t know anyone was out here. I didn’t hear anything,” I say, even though it’s a lie compounded by another lie.

The silence is unbearable.

So I do what I do best, or what I do worst, I suppose—my greatest strength is also my greatest weakness. I break it.

“I had the faucet on,” I say. “Really loud. And I pee pretty loud. I’m surprised you guys didn’t hear me, it was like Niagara Falls in here. Just really … very loud in volume. A lot of … liquids … flowing in a … noisy fashion.”

“I don’t think that’s right,” I said to my manager Aaron on my first day. “Because Subway subs are twelve inches? So really it’s only seventy-five percent of a Subway sub?”

“They mean the six-inch,” he replied.

“So maybe they should say that?”

“It’s the worst. It is literally the worst. I’m a cog in the world’s dumbest corporate sandwich machine. But I needed a job. And Pinky’s was hiring. So here I am.”

“There was a lot of talk of this year being our year.”

“Who did all the other years belong to?”

“Right? I asked Madison that. She looked at me like I was crazy.”

“Too bad she can’t buy a sense of humor.”

“I’d sell her mine.”

“So many girls would be so happy for a chance to go to Prospect.”

“Then one of them should go for me,”

“Oh, this is Claudia,” Caris says.

“Third wheel extraordinaire,”

“Who still needs a partner?”

Time to accept my fate. I raise my hand.”

“I don’t hate anyone.”

“Not even Voldemort?”

“I mean, yes, obviously. But I don’t—”

“Are you hiding from somebody?”

I swallow. “Yes,” I say. “Death. That’s why you scared me. I thought it was the grim reaper sneaking up on me.”

“Well, you’ve got Oberon locked down.”

“Maybe you’ll be my queen,” he says, leaning in a little and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I mean, probably not. If there’s like … a nonspeaking role for a tree or something, that’ll probably be me.”

“What are you doing?” I finish off the creature.

“Sorry, Mark just got home.” I hear muffled conversation and then “He says hi.”

“Tell him I don’t say hi back. Tell him I respond with stony silence.”

“Gotta go. Have fun Shakespeare-ing.”

“I’ll try. Hey, if you’re mean to me, I’m gonna send Mark a list of names from this play. You could have a little baby Oberon or Hippolyta.”

“Oh geez. Don’t you dare.”

“Bet you wish you saved some of those vetoes.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I mean, yeah, it kind of goes against my usual thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know. Where I’m not really, like … active in that way.”

My mom gave me a look. “Sexually?”

“Agh! God! No! Socially. Socially active.”

“Do not take your eyes off the climber, the surprisingly stern college kid who trained us had said. Do not get distracted. Do not take your hands off the rope. Do not lose focus”

“Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars,”

“I hate everything about this.”

“Iris, you haven’t even climbed as high as you are tall.”

“Let me down. Now.”

“You could literally just step off the wall.”

“Hey, do you know Jacob Dolby?” he says like he’s going to introduce us, but there’s no Jacob Dolby in sight.

I shake my head.

“He’s having a party tomorrow night.”

“Good for him.”

“Do you want me to drop you off?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not a terrible person?”

She looks at me for a moment and then lowers her phone.

“Fine. You can drive me.”

“Really? Thank you. How gracious. What a privilege.”

“Do you need my address for the GPS?” she asks, following me to my car.

“Hate to break it to you, but 2004 Toyota Corollas don’t come standard with GPS. You’re gonna have to Google-Map that shit for me. Think you can manage?”

“I didn’t … fuck up on purpose.”

“Wait, so you were for real?” Iris just blinks at me. “You making faces in the dining hall before auditions. That was … you acting?”

“What can I say. We’re not all talented enough to be Magic Fairy Number Five.”

“Hey, I’m First Fairy. It’s a named character. I have lines.”

“Oh geez, let me get the Tony nominators on the phone.”

“Not everything I think is malicious.”

“What would a pie chart of your malicious to non-malicious thoughts look like? How big a piece of the pie is non-malicious?”

“What did you do today?”

“Sorry?”

“That has you so wiped.”

“Oh. You know. Saturday stuff.”

“What’s Saturday stuff? Typical Saturday for Claudia Wallace.”

“I ran a 5K,” I say.

“Really.” He says it like he might believe me, so I go on.

“Actually, I ran twelve 5Ks. Basically a 60K. And then I fought like seven bears. So. You know, I’m pretty beat.”

“Seven bears. All at once?”

“No, three and then four.”

“That’s impressive. I’ve only ever fought seven bears tournament-style.”

“I’m not saying it was easy. That’s … that’s why I’m so tired.”

“Claudia Wallace, you’re not even a little bit curious about my mixtape?”

“I’m like sixty-five percent sure you don’t have one.”

“It’s called Gideon Prewitt: Getting Improvement.”

“Agh, God, why?”

“Because it sounds cool.”

“Getting Improvement? What does that even mean?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, it just has to strike a chord with people.”

“I’m now eighty percent sure this mixtape doesn’t exist.”

“But I know you didn’t go to Morningbrook with us, I definitely would’ve remembered.”

“Maybe I had a face transplant.”

“Maybe you did. But I also feel like I would’ve remembered if someone in my class in middle school got a face transplant.”

“It was the summer between eighth and ninth grade. I kept a low profile afterward.”

“What did you look like before?”

“Better,” I say. “I had a rare condition. The doctors said I was too attractive. It was detrimental to my health and also society. So they gave me this face instead. For the greater good.”

“That was an SAT word.”

“I know. Do you want me to congratulate you for using it?”

“Is he really your favorite?”

“I don’t know. It might be some kind of subconscious conditioning, since his face is literally all over the room, and, you know, he just watched me pee and everything.”

“Not that I was pathologically afraid of crotches. I just … like to know a person before I measure from the crotch to the back of the heel where I want the pants to end.”

“I’m the funniest person I know,” he declares. “Except for you. You’re funnier than me.”

“That’s not saying much, because you’re not funny at all,”

“I don’t want to bond. I specifically want to not bond. What’s the opposite of bond?”

“Alienate?”

“I want to alienate.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

“Smooth job answering a question with a question by the way. Super ninja deflecting skills.”

“I’m a level fifty deflector,” I reply.

“Out of how many levels?”

“How many levels do you think?”

“Deflected!”

“Why would you bring Iris on a double date? Who does that?”

“This isn’t a double date.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

“You said it was a group thing! ‘Group thing’ does not mean ‘double date’!”

“Well, it was implied.”

“You should have said the words ‘double date’!”

“Are you ready to put the ‘fun’ in Fall Fun Fest?” he says as I slap his palm.

“I can at least put the ‘trip’ in ‘Triple F.’” A pause. “By being clumsy, I mean. Not by, like, sharing drugs with the group.” Three sets of eyes are on me, and I can’t stop myself from talking. “I don’t have any drugs. In case you were worried. Or, in case you were … expecting me to have drugs.…”

“If it makes you feel any better, you were right about her being scared. It kind of backfired though, because she seems, like, pathologically afraid of this whole situation.”

“Anyway, I left as fast as I could. It was Jackie Casella’s house. Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

“It’s in the French Palladian style. Way too ostentatious if you ask me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I design my chateau.”

“Is it weird,” Zoe asked once, “that she’s going to be a grandma but she’s also still your mom?”

“I think a lot of grandmas are also still moms?” I replied.”

“What if she loves the new grandbaby more than you?” Zoe said with a grin.

“Oh, she definitely will. I’ve accepted that.”

“Did you, like, read a book on gaming?” I say.

“I read the Internet. It told me all about it.”

“You read the entire Internet?”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Iris says quietly, pulling a piece of shredded lettuce out of her sandwich and frowning at it.

“There’s nothing wrong with that lettuce.”

“I meant with Paige.”

“I know, but you’re giving the lettuce a suspicious look.”

“I fucked up my first act as a mom,” she says. “I evicted him from my uterus ten weeks early.”

“That’ll teach him to pay his rent on time.”

“I really like TION. Like, I kind of love them.”

Zoe smiles. “I sort of got that impression.”

“Like, not even a little bit ironically. I genuinely love them. If one of them needed a kidney and I was a match, I would genuinely give them my kidney.”

#foolish hearts #emma mills #romance books

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fengyas · 7 months

Text

@𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐜𝐬 sent: [ full screenshots: 1, 2. ]

sharp nails leisurely tapping on the stony armchair of his royal seat in complete detachment, a cheek nonchalantly pressed in the palm of his hand as he listened to the last report of the day with only one ear, wen kexing seemed to notice in passing that the raucous little girl who usually accompanied him everywhere and talked his ears off all day had not shown up from the first hour in the morning to the very last hour of the evening. although he wasn't exactly looking for her for a specific reason, this was a very strange occurrence to say the least.

but even after making that observation, wen kexing put no more thought into it than he did to the report from his lackey, who was still kneeling in front of him, waiting for his approbation to leave while his gaze fixated on the ground as if fearing that if he looked a little too high, he would incur the wrath of a demon that fed on the souls of living people. the mere sight of it almost gave him a headache, and it took no less than a second for him to wave his hand and utter a you may leave.

after that, he went to sit on the table next to the window, with his long, red robes trailing behind him like the feathers of a peacock. while he sat to pour himself a cup of wine, he caught sight of gu xiang, who had just made a return, passing by the lackey who'd just finished his report a few minutes ago. she seemed to be hiding something behind her back, and categorically refused to show what it was unless he gave her the permission to sit with him. so naturally, wen kexing agreed.

only then did gu xiang position a plate of funny-looking lumps of… food, on the table. had this come from anyone else, he would've undeniably interpreted this as a bold attempt at murder in broad daylight without any ounce of shame, and by now, head and limbs would be flying everywhere, blood splashing on the cold floor like an ominous crimson painting on the walls. and while usually, he would never mince his words on the looks of something – or someone, for that matter – he had noticed the cuts and bruises all over her hands as she put the plate in front of him.

after all, it was hard not to notice such a thing.

so wen kexing quietly picked up the chopsticks sitting on the plate, listening to her long-winded explanation on how she had made this herself, how safe it was to eat and how he couldn't refuse it, while cutting a piece of whatever-this-was the cake, that he reluctantly slowly brought to his lips. after chewing for a while, he could efficiently say that the taste wasn't too bad; there were hints of nuts and black sesame, a taste that he liked, but it was slightly too sugary for him — to say nothing of the shape of those cakes. obviously, she had gotten some help for this, or else it would've been way worse on the tongue. she wasn't a cook, after all. and he could tell that it'd taken a great deal of effort and will for her to do this.

and he wasn't mean enough to criticise that. so instead, he said. “it's not bad,” the truth, simply. “but you know i don't celebrate my birthday, why would you go out of your way to make these? isn't that the very proof that you love me enough?” as words came out of his mouth, the ghost of a self-confident smile emerged on his lips, the urge to tease her suddenly blooming in his heart like the buds of a flower.

#caelestcs #. ⚝ : 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽.#温客行 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.#months late but thank you for this. she's soooo cute. :<#long post /

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aladaylessecondblog · 9 months

Text

A Heart Divided (2nd fic in the Altered Amaranth series)

Dagoth Ur/Female Nerevarine, primarily journal based. No smut, sad ending, death in childbirth

Azura's words echo to remind me of my duty, my destiny. Strike down Dagoth Ur and release the land from his grasp. Yet the memories of Indoril Nerevar say he was once my truest friend.

So when he admonished me for coming unprepared, I asked that he at least speak to his old friend, for there was much I wanted to know. And as he was an enemy of the Tribunal, he would surely surely be honest with me. I thought he would say no, but in his stony yet hopeful way he replied, "I would be happy to grant you that before our battle. What do you want to know?"

We talked well into the night on many things, and this man--this man! I have been warned by the Ashlander wise women that he is mad. Dead. EVIL. But the darkness they spoke of is not all that resides in him. Something still remains of Voryn.

I have heard the echoes of his laughter and there is no sweeter sound.

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

Death has not been kind to my old friend. His corrupted form is a prison for a tormented soul that years for release.

Our conversations ranged from Nerevar's death to the present day and then moved on to the nature of power, divinity, and the flaws of the daedric princes we once revered. There is much he misunderstands and yet much more that he DOES understand.

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

With each passing day I am increasingly torn...the lines between friend and foe have begun to blur.

The longer I stay, the more of Nerevar's memories seem to return, and the more of Voryn seems to come back too.

Morrowind condemns him, says he is irredeemable...but I cannot ignore the hope that he might be talked down from the horrors they accuse him of.

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

I find myself drawn to him in ways I cannot fully articulate. He has had time to explore all the mysteries of the Heart...to ponder divinity, and so many other things. (What songs I could write, if I knew half the things he does!)

There is a depth to his knowledge and wisdom that intrigues me, and his voice though tinged with sorrow holds a certain...--

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

BY AZURA WHAT HAVE I DONE?!

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

He had offered me a drink, a rare vintage called Dagoth Brandy--something I'd only seen a few times in all of Morrowind--in the Heart Chamber of all places. His mask was off; propped against the Heart.

I stood drinking with him as he spoke once more of his plans to complete Akulakhan, to drive the mongrel dogs of the Empire from Morrowind, and how pleased he was that I would be there to see it with him. Once I went out to get Wraithguard, of course. What good is it to obtain victory, he said, if there was no one to share it with? And together, none, not even the Daedric Princes, could stand against us.

I forgot exactly what I said in response... something about going to war dressed as he was. And I seemed to find it funny, while he was almost bashful.

I made some joke about Nerevar thinking about it, and something leaped in me impulsively. I grabbed his head and pulled him down into a kiss. I expected him to be cold, but he was the opposite. Nearly enough to burn just from a touch.

He pulled back almost instantly and I realized what I'd done. A slurred mess of apologies followed, but were quickly silenced when he kissed me himself.

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

(PAGE TORN OUT)

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

I've said to Voryn that it seems my life did not begin until I came to Morrowind. I feel as though I did not find home until I came here.

Azura's words haunt my thoughts as she reminds me daily of the path I SHOULD take. But I cannot bring myself to heed her call. Instead, I find myself entangled in a web of passion. Voryn's arms are the only place I want to be and at a single touch, I am undone.

I once prayed to Mara for a heroic knight to love...and she sent me a god.

(If only he would listen to me.)

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

(PAGES TORN OUT)

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

Amidst tangled limbs and whispered promises...I cannot escape the truth.

Dagoth Ur remains determined to hold to his plans involving corprus and the blight diseases. Despite my efforts to persuade him otherwise he stands resolute, unwilling to deviate from his path. He refuses to see that his plans will only harm the people of Morrowind. He brushes aside the illness as being mere consequence of being unable to bear his divine diseases. Not all minds, he said, were capable of comprehending divinity. Some minds and bodies would inevitably break.

I can no longer continue down this path of passion while turning a blind eye to his Divine disease. It is clear that there is only one way forward and yet I fear to take it...

To spurn both Dagoth Ur and Azura.

I cannot bear to see the land suffer under the weight of his ambitions, nor can I bring myself to raise a weapon against the man I love. What a FOOL I have been, and continue to be.

I know not what lies ahead, but I'm determined to find my own path. One that does not require me to choose between love and duty.

May the Divine grant me forgiveness, for surely Azura will not. Voryn...I am so sorry.

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

The pursuit continues, relentless and unyielding. I find myself constantly on the move, hiding in the shadows, never staying in one place for too long.

Does Vivec know what I have refused to do? Or does he pass his time idly, unknowing, while his followers do all this for him? It works out the same either way. I find that the wounds I've received during the inevitable clashes when they find me are not healed by the potions, or by healing spells, though they do still heal naturally. Azura's power surely cannot stretch so far?

Fear has become my constant companion, but it's overshadowed by something else...

I am with child. And whether I am more pleased or frightened, I cannot say. I will love this child, I am sure, but...how can I bring any child into this world whose very existence is shrouded in danger?

My only solace lies in the hope that perhaps one day the child I carry will know a world free from the grasp of Dagoth Ur and the prophecies that entwine us. They will know all...the love, and the danger. Perhaps they will be strong enough to do what I could not.

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

I have taken refuge in the Argonian Mission...it has become a haven amidst the chaos that surrounds me. The Argonians have offered me their protection and hospitality--they have seen the good I've done. The lives I've helped free from the shackles of slavery. In their eyes, I am not just a fugitive but a guardian of freedom.

I've given over most of the artifacts I've collected in my time in Morrowind. I won't need them any longer once I've left, and to hide me MUST be dangerous. I have not told them all, only that being declared the Nerevarine drove the Ordinators to want me dead. I said that I received a poisoned wound, and that I am no longer healing very well...so perhaps giving them those artifacts was a way for me to soothe the guilt I feel.

Here within the sanctuary of the mission I find a temporary respite from the turmoil that threatens to engulf me. I spend my days in seclusion...tending to my growing belly and reflecting on the choices that lie ahead. I will go back to Cyrodiil, this I know. But where will I live? Not Leyawiin, or Bravil...perhaps Bruma. From there I would be able to escape to Skyrim, should the need arise.

Azura's anger still echoes in my mind. Reminding me of the path I forsook and the prophecy I chose to defy.

But in solitude, thankfully, there is not only fear, but joy. I feel the gentle fluttering of life within me...a reminder that love and beauty can emerge even from the darkest of circumstances.

It is all that sustains me on the worst days.

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PAGE TORN OUT

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

Ukawei

The labor was long and despite my healing efforts Sadara's strength waned with each passing breath. The room was silent save for the mewlings of the babe and I saw the mark of her lineage upon her tiny wrist. A glimmering ring, the moon and star, had been slipped onto her delicate skin.

Sadara was weeping, though not until after reading her journal did we truly discover why. Her last words were "she looks like you."

We have named the child Haj-deek, which means 'hidden child' in our tongue. We shall not burden her with knowledge of her parentage nor that of the Nerevarine prophecies, not until she is old enough to bear it, so that her childhood need not be spent in the same fear that plagued her mother.

Sadara wrote a song shortly before her labor, and I will move it to the front of the journal with a note.

This is the last journal of Sadara, sometimes called the Nerevarine. Below she wrote a poem, or perhaps a song, of the doomed love that in the end claimed her life. To the child who must someday read this...I am sorry.

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

This Man My Love Enfold

sung like 'My Jolly Sailor Bold'

Upon one Rain's Hand morning, I carefully did stray

Down by Red Mountain ash-choked, where I met a Dunmer gray

Found pondering a red heart, for cent'ries he remain

Saying Nerevar, my old friend, you I'm glad return again

My heart is pierced by Mara

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But this man my love enfold

His hair hangs in ink rivers, his eyes as red as flame

To Morrowind the Sharmat, A monster inhumane

From Red Mountain to Vivec, Azura spreads my shame

All for the love I bear him, this man once Voryn named

My heart is pierced by Mara

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But this man my love enfold

My name it is Sadara, a bard of Leyawiin

And I have left Azura and the fight the gods foresee

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a man so faithful, yet ne'ermore shall be free

The Tools I shun e'ermore

His blood won't cross my blade

to Divines pray I come soon the day

He walks no more in shade

My heart is pierced by Mara

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But this man my love enfold

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

The last thing Sadara saw was the babe, the girl, curled up on her chest. The high cheekbones, the sharp jaw, so much like him. Her arms were slipping, and she felt nauseated, shaky, and so very, very cold.

She looks like you.

A name...she realized too late that she had not given the Argonians a name for the child, and her lips refused to cooperate when she tried to speak through the tears.

If she had been capable of blinking, she would have said that what it felt like. Blinking, and then suddenly finding herself in an ash waste--but on looking up she saw the Ghostfence, and realized that she was on the wrong side of it.

Her hands--

--pale, almost translucent blue-white, and the rest of her--a wispy dress that floated and fluttered around her legless form. This mystery did not remain so for very long.

"Sadara," the feminine voice, Azura's voice, spoke up, "You have FAILED me. Your love has clouded your judgment and your choice has brought upon you a grave consequence."

She tried to response, but no words would come.

"You were destined to strike down Dagoth Ur. To save your people from his looming darkness! But you forsook your purpose and now you face not only the wrath of your former beloved, but more importantly--MY judgment."

Sadara waited, for what else was there to do? It was not that she could not speak, but that there seemed to be no words that would do. What did Azura say that was not true?

"You shall wander the Red Mountain region, unseen by those untouched by corprus, a reminder of your failure. As a wispmother your spirit shall forever be bound to the land he blighted, doomed to wander without rest to avoid catching the demon's attention. You shall witness the suffering that now unfolds--unable to intervene. May this eternal penance serve as a reminder of the cost of your sin."

With Azura's voice gone, she was left in an unbearable silence. She screamed out suddenly, wailed in a unnirnly melodic sound that had a single buoyant armiger within earshot, at his post on one of the towers, convinced that some new corprus monster had been created that night.

#dagoth ur #morrowind #tes #tesblr #nerevarine #elder scrolls

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thelavendernarwhal · 1 year

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I found a short story I wrote for an assignment and thought it was too neat to sit in my drafts, so here we are. (For context, the prompt was to write about a picture and I wrote about the Dark Margin based on a painting I made of it. Convoluted, I know.)

A harsh prick of light stung their eyes as they stared out over the sprawling ocean. The rock outcropping they crouched behind provided enough cover for their pupils to adjust but they craned their head around it before they were ready, not wanting to wait in the shadows any longer than needed. How long has it been since they’ve stopped at this place? It felt like years. They guessed it could have been, but it very well could have been a few minutes at the same time. Time was a funny thing down here.

Not that it mattered much. Subdued waves still crawled onto the rocky shore while pink and blue patches shifted around the corners of the sky in their kaleidoscope pattern as they did before, so not too much had changed in whatever interval had passed. Even the worn rock they had rested on last time was nestled into the sand right where they left it. Maybe it’d be nice to take up shop there once more. The longer they dwelled on the thought, it was pure luck that they found this spot again. The scattered maze-like landscape of this world rarely ever led someone to the same place twice, let alone a place they wanted to be.

They glanced around the clearing with a closer eye first. Too many times had they settled down somewhere only to be ambushed by whatever lurked in this realm to trust their first judgment. Although, it should be fine here. The creatures of this abyss wouldn’t be able to handle any areas this bright. With that final piece of resolve, a familiar calm settled into their bones as they crept into the clearing and sat down on their smoothed stone. It was…nice, for lack of a better word, to know that some brightness could be found in the dark, no matter how muted. At an earlier, more hopeful time, they might have entertained the idea that if they swam toward it for long enough, they could escape this world. Not that they’d ever try it, but it was a comforting thought nonetheless.

They didn’t know why, but this little spot always made them a tad bit sentimental. Perhaps it was the backdrop of a sky that didn’t move as much as its colorful counterparts or the gentle feeling of water lapping against their feet, but it never failed to make it easier to think. Even the stony structures on the beach and towering out of the sea seemed more solid here than anywhere else.

Slowly, their eyes adjusted enough to look far out into the horizon; endless miles of water greeted them, reflecting the ashy sky and filling the air with salt. They never recognized how beautiful it was to use their senses until all they could pick up was dark and decay. How long has it been since they’ve gone to a real beach? Too long, that’s for sure. That would be like trying to understand how long they’ve been down here; a mystery they have attempted to solve countless times but gave up on before they could reach a satisfying answer. It could have been the tranquility around them, but part of them wanted to try figuring it out again.

Although, it would have to be when that same tranquility wasn’t trying to pull them into sleep. Granted, the rock wasn’t very comfortable for that kind of activity, but maybe a few winks would let them dream of a day with real sunlight and the sounds of a warm ocean breeze. They sighed, settling into the gray sand and leaning their back against their smoothed stone. For now, this sea will have to do.

#kingdom hearts #writing #short story #i wrote this a year ago #so its a little rough but i still like it #Realm of Darkness

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starlingsrps · 2 years

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be my baby.

“ten minutes and i mean ten, elizabeth rose. you can’t be up all hours on the phone with that-“

receiver sandwiched between her ear and shoulder, eliza rolls her eyes as she kicks her bedroom door shut behind her. an eye roll is dangerous, considering she’s already as close to being grounded as an adult can be, but she (almost) doesn’t care anymore. the phone cord is too short to go far into her room so she yanks what she can under the door and sits on the floor with a curse.

“oh come on,” indigo says on the other end. “i wanted to hear what she was going to call me this time.”

eliza huffs and sighs, looking up at her ceiling. “she doesn’t even really call you anything anymore,” she says. “you’re ‘that-‘“ she pauses to imitate the low, annoyed noise she makes instead of saying his name. he laughs and she fights to smile. “well i’m glad you think it’s funny.”

“a little bit.”

“you don’t have to hear it all day,” she points out.

“okay, that’s fair. is she still mad?”

the door to her parents room slams shut hard enough that she feels a faint rattle against her back. “yeah, i’d say so. i think it’s friendlier in moscow.”

it’s been a week since she got home at four am after going out for the night with indigo in seattle. she had done so knowing damn well there was no way she would be home in time for her eleven pm curfew but she decided to pretend that it didn’t exist. eleven came and went while they were still at the concert and once it had been over, she didn’t see any reason to head back to tacoma. it wasn’t like it would be any better if she were an hour late or three, she said with bravado she didn’t quite feel. she was twenty after all. it wasn’t exactly like she could still be grounded.

so no, she hadn’t been grounded but it had been a long week of stony silence and slammed doors. she has taken to staying at the office later and later, trying to find some additional task to do to avoid the bus they. the night she had asked the operators if she needed help with emptying their wastebaskets was the moment she realized she needed to do something or she would snap.

“what if you came here?”

“baby, if i want to sleep in the house, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“but you could sleep here,” he clarifies. “permanently.”

the meaning of the offer comes a moment later and she raises her eyebrows. if staying out until dawn causes her parents to lose their minds to this extent, she’s fairly sure that her moving out to live with her boyfriend, who she is absolutely not married to and who they absolutely do not like as much as they pretend to, would probably lead to her being shipped off to nebraska to aunt valerie’s goat farm.

what could they do to her anyway? she was twenty with a job and a bus pass. indigo moved out of the neighborhood and downtown last year and doesn’t seem to have destroyed his entire life. they both have decent jobs and one driver’s license between them but the fact that it’s different for boys holds her back. “but what will the neighbors think?”

he laughs again. “‘joe and adelaide? you know they don’t.”

she sighs and rests her head against the door. “i can’t.”

“since when do you let them tell you what you can’t do?”

she laughs and looks around her room. he has a point. “i mean, you’re going to marry me eventually anyway,” she says, shooting for a flippant tone that she doesn’t 100% feel. she hates girls who say they’re not that kind of girl - they usually are anyway. this though, the type of girl who lives with a boyfriend before getting married, who sets up her own life? that’s not a type of girl she ever thought she could be. she doesn’t even know where she would find one those girls to ask about logistics.

“when you least expect it,” he agrees. “why wait?”

“can we please use my bed instead of yours?”

“if we can get it here. come on, it’ll be fun.”

“i’m not making dinner every night.”

“that’s fair. i can cook.”

she hums and stands, nearly dropping the phone in the process. she has a gut feeling that cooking for indigo generally means opening a can but that he’s willing to offer is more than she can say of any other man she knows. from down the hall, she hears the thump of the vacuum cleaner coming out of the closet and one of her mother’s earth shattering sighs. eliza has spent most of the years since joey died clawing at the walls and wanting to be anywhere but home and here’s her out.

“okay.” she takes a deep breath. “when are you picking me up?”

“tomorrow too soon?” he asks, making her laugh. “i want you here.”

she softens. “i want to be there. but maybe saturday.”

“saturday it is.”

they exchange i love yous and she hangs up, opening the door to face her parents.

#type: writing #s: eliza x indigo

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loveforpreserumsteve · 2 years

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All Grown Up: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU [[REUPLOAD]])

Sixteen:

Just as quick as every other day for the past twenty-five years, the week sped by right before their very eyes. The only thing that made this week different was it being Spirit Week. Twin Day had the girls dressing alike in matching outfits in the same color for the first time in their lives, all in thick knitted yellow sweaters and skinny jeans. For a moment, Steve wondered if their classmates would've been able to tell the identical triplets apart without Cori's dyed blonde hair, without Nevie's glasses, and without Bitsy's braces. All the while, Kit was a bit more... creative with them matching their two best friends, all in costumes that made them a smore.

On Wednesday, each of the kids borrowed college apparel from their older brothers. Shirts, hoodies, hats. If it had a college logo, they were wearing it. By the time that Cori came into the kitchen that morning, she looked as though Stony Brook University's gift shop had thrown up on her.

When Thursday rolled around, Steve almost cried. Sure, he had seen on the Spirit Week sheet that it was Toy Story Day, but he wasn't prepared to see his kids dressed up as the Pixar characters.

"Oh, wow!" Steve said when he turned from the stove top to find Kit dressed in the white daredevil jumpsuit that the character, Duke Caboom, wore in the fourth movie. Seeing that the teen had even shaved their patchy beard so it was just the mustache.

Posing, like the goofball they were, Kit asked, "What d'ya think?"

"Very handsome," Steve complimented.

Preening, Kit took a seat at the breakfast bar. As Steve set the plate of turkey bacon on the counter, so Kit could help themselves, Bitsy rushed through the house to the laundry room. Wearing the metallic turquoise unitard from one of her dance recitals, she was like a blue blur.

"Elizabeth Sarah, I shouldn't need to remind you," Bucky called after the fifteen year old as he entered the kitchen.

"Sorry!" She replied from the laundry room.

Shaking his head, Bucky leaned down to press a kiss to Steve's lips. Always happy to start his day that way. Not that Steve could complain though. He didn't know what he'd do if Bucky didn't start his day like this.

"Now remember," Cori announced, dressed as the classic Bo Peep. Tying her bonnet under her chin, she reminded, "There's some last minute float building. So, we won't be home until, like, seven."

"Should we watch your sheep 'til you get back?" Bucky joked.

Cori gave him an unamused look before dropping her gaze and making sure her costume was situated on her athletic frame correctly. Bucky just chuckled at his own joke. All Steve could do was playfully roll his eyes and go back to the stove so the pancakes wouldn't burn.

"I thought it was funny," Bucky took a gulp of his too-sweet coffee.

Shaking his head, Steve good-humoredly scoffed, "That's because you think you're hilarious." "Hey!" Bucky defended himself, "I happen to have it on good authority that I'm hilarious." "The kids don't count," Steve informed, plating the last pancake.

"Nonsense," Bucky held his head high, "They're the only ones who matter."

Not needing to say anything, Steve chuckled under his breath. It was always the same when it came to Bucky's humor and how the alpha always related it back to their kids thinking he was funny.

"D'ya know that your pops and I met while dressed as Toy Story characters?" Bucky prompted, beaming over at his mate.

Uninterested, the kids confirmed, "Yup."

"Many times," Bitsy added, exiting the laundry room with rainbow legwarmers on her calves.

As if not hearing their children, Bucky continued, "There I was, standing by the concession table, thinking I was wasting my night at a stupid party in an amazing costume when I saw your pops."

The kids groaned in annoyance. Not that that stopped their alpha father.

"It was like my heart shifted –" Bucky snaked his arms around Steve's slim waist "– to be closer to him. I couldn't help but want to be nearer. To talk to him. To hold him."

Sighing wistfully at the memory, Bucky held Steve tighter. Starting to sway them, the alpha theatrically sang the familiar Bobby Pickett Halloween classic. "'It was a graveyard smash. It caught on in a flash. He did the monster mash!'"

"You're the worst!" Steve giggled as his husband dipped him.

"You love it," Bucky countered. Steve feigned – not very well – annoyance. Bringing him in, Bucky kissed Steve's temple, and then rapidly pressed kisses all over the petite omega's face. Completely ignoring their kids and their exaggerated exasperation.

"Oh, hush," Bucky blew a raspberry at the teens. Reminding them, "If I never went to that party, none of you would be here."

"Yeah, guys," Steve joked. Trying to keep himself from laughing, "Show your dad some respect."

All the teens could do was laugh. Not that Steve could blame them. Not even Bucky could. The group broke out into laughter Especially when Bucky pretended to be offended by their children mocking him and the love he had for his mate.

"What's so funny?" Nevie asked, entering the room, dressed adorably in a yellow polka dot dress and her hair in pigtails.

"Dad doing his damndest to make us upchuck breakfast," Cori exaggerated.

"I'm doing no such thing," Bucky objected while Steve asked, "What are you supposed to be, sweet pea?"

"Gabby Gabby," the four teens answered.

Looking down at her vintage style dress, Nevie asked, "Is it not obvious?"

"Don't listen to them, they're old," Bitsy teased, finishing off her breakfast. "Just be glad that I save all my dance costumes."

"Even though you were twelve the last time you wore this," Nevie rolled her eyes at herself. Having been in that situation for his entire life, Steve could understand, and gave her an empathetic smile.

Checking the clock, Cori jumped off her stool at the breakfast bar, and raced to make sure she had everything she needed for school and the extracurriculars afterwards. Grabbing a package of Pop Tarts, Nevie waved off Steve and Bucky's twin concern about her not eating breakfast.

"Have a good day! Love you!" Steve called after them as they entered the garage while Bucky reminded, "Drive safe!"

Muttering mainly to himself, Steve reminded, "Tomorrow's the last day of Spirit Week. Just one more day."

After putting the leftovers in the fridge and about to load the dishwasher, the familiar start to the 1962 Monster Mash played from the smart speaker. Righting himself, he looked over at his husband and the smug smirk on his unfairly attractive face.

Extending his hand for Steve, Bucky silently asked for his hand in a dance. Despite rolling his eyes, Steve could feel the inevitable blush start to color his cheeks. Even after all these years, he couldn't help but melt into a complete mess with such a simple gesture.

Spinning Steve into himself, Bucky held him tenderly. Swaying them to the upbeat song. Almost as though in his head, the tempo was slower, smoother, more romantic.

Pressing his forehead to Steve's, Bucky informed, "This was the moment I fell in love." Pleasantly surprised, Steve barked out a laugh, "You hadn't even talk to me yet back then."

"I told you," Bucky confirmed, bringing his hand up so he could kiss Steve's stiff, arthritic knuckles, "It was from the moment I saw you. That was when I knew."

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