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joelmillers-whore · 9 months

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The Only Thing I Did Right

summary: after a patrol gone wrong, joel races to get you back to jackson. while the doctor tries to save you, he wrestles with the guilt of letting you down.

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 2.6K

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, soft joel, hurt/comfort, minor descriptions of blood, joel thinking everything is his fault, tommy is there briefly, mentions of drinking and/or alcohol dependence, happy ending don’t worry, angst if you squint

A/N: i meant for this to be a short drabble because my creativity has been waning lately and i’m a little burned out to be honest, but i got carried away, but what else is new. anywho, enjoy this lil fic. let me know if ya’ll would like to see another part of this or maybe an interconnected one-shot series, i would be down. i really enjoyed writing this. also, i am still trying to power through this sickness i have suddenly, and i don’t think i’ll be able to post hard light chapter two this week.

I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

“Where’s it hurt?”, Joel asked, in a low, almost inaudible voice. He tried to keep his tone calm, trying to keep you calm, but his mind was flustered, and he was on edge, and he was pretty sure that you could see right through his charade.

He swallowed thickly, past a lump that was stuck in his throat. His eyes darted all over you, tracking every movement, every laboured breath, and wince.

It had been decades since he had felt like this; the constricting of his chest, the shallow and unsure breaths that he was letting out, and the staggering way his heart clenched, a silent prayer on his lips, asking any God who would listen to spare you.

It all felt so overwhelming and a little too familiar. Images of Sarah flashed through his mind, dredging up demons and emotions he had thought he had left in the past.

He had never been so afraid of losing someone he loved, not since Sarah, but here he was now, feeling like he was about to collapse at any minute, terrified of making the wrong move and losing you.

He swallowed again, harsher as he concentrated on his breathing.

He hadn’t let his mind drift to thoughts of his daughter in a long time, his chest burning in that familiar way each time that he did, squeezing to the point of pain.

He let an idle hand drift to his chest, right above his heart, and gripped it, trying to will it subconsciously to slow down. But it was no use.

There were very few things in the world that made Joel feel as if the ground was collapsing underneath him, and thinking of Sarah was definitely one of them.

Whenever he found himself thinking of her, thinking of how he couldn’t save her, the breath from his lungs evaporated, and guilt slammed into him with enough force to destabilize him.

But seeing you like this, the woman that he had promised Tommy that he would watch over and protect, writhe in pain as blood pooled under your shirt, that was another thing that he couldn’t bear to witness.

You looked so helpless, lying in his arms, looking up at him with droopy lids, a faraway look in your eyes.

He cursed under his breath, knowing that you were injured because of him, because of his carelessness.

You were going to be another person he couldn’t protect and he didn’t know how much more of that he could take.

“‘M fine”, you said, weakly, your breath coming out in stunted gasps.

Joel shook his head, tempered anger coursing through his veins, “Don’t pull that brave shit with me”, he bit out, harsher than he intended. He gripped you tighter in his arms, holding onto you for dear life. “I know it hurts, so just tell me”.

He watched as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, you tried to blink them but the motion only made them fall, coating your cheeks.

Joel lifted a hand, wiping them away. He hated to see you cry, he couldn’t stand it, it broke his heart.

He left his thumb on the apple of your cheek, thinking that maybe the sensation would bring you some comfort, thinking that maybe it would bring him some comfort.

“Am I going to die, Joel?”, you asked, a slight tremble in your voice.

Joel shook his head, adamantly, “Not if I can help it”.

You faded in and out of consciousness as Joel debated his next move, trying to figure out how he was going to get you back to Jackson.

He clutched the hem of your shirt, the material sticking to your stomach as he peeled it from you.

He visibly cringed as he eyed your wound, the punctured flesh dispelling crimson red at a rapid and borderline concerning rate.

He couldn’t wait around any longer, couldn’t wait for the next round of patrol to find them, if they even came out this far. So, he took matters into his own hands, his muted internal clock ticking down the more he looked at you pale in his arms.

He scooped up your limb body, pressing you flush to his body, determination and adrenaline pumping through him, the driving force propelling him into action.

There was only one thought in his head; get you back to Jackson, by whatever means.

As he stepped out of the small cabin, Joel noticed that the sun was slowly starting to dip beneath the horizon, the pop of blistering orange making him anxious.

Night would come quicker than either of you wanted and then the real challenge would begin, trying to navigate through the dense forest and get back to the community in the dark.

You were trembling in his arms, shaking so violently, from either the bitter cold or the loss of blood, that he thought that he was the one who was hurting you.

“Can you ride?”, he asked, urgency in his voice.

“Dunno”.

Joel couldn't risk injuring you further, but he also couldn’t waste any more time, so he made an executive decision. He had been making a lot of those on your behalf today, and his most recent had gotten you in this position in the first place, it was his fault.

If anything happened to you, he wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

He placed you tentatively on the ground, his arm sneaking around your waist to stabilize you as he untied his horse from the post.

“Alright”, he bent slightly, grabbing your foot and placing it in his hand, “Nice ‘n easy now”.

He could see the strain on your face, the pellets of sweat sticking to your hairline as you used as much strength as you could, hoisting yourself up and onto the horse. You’d let out a strangled groan as you got situated.

Once he knew that you were on, he hopped up, grabbing the reins and digging his heels into Shimmer’s body, spurring her into a run, his motivation to get back to Jackson making his heart race.

The only solace that Joel took from not being able to see you from the position he was in, was that he could feel you gripping him from behind, your arms latching around his waist, your cheek flush with his back.

He could feel your chest rising and falling against him and his pulse softened, knowing that you were still fighting, still holding on for him.

He had pushed Shimmer to her limits, getting you both back to Jackson in record time. The sequence of events that followed had been a blur to him.

The gates had opened immediately, the guards recognizing him even in the dusk.

He remembered screaming his throat raw, begging someone for help as he carried you into town and to the doctor.

He’d watched on, helplessly, as they quickly began working on you. Blood and cloth blurred his vision, making his stomach twist with queasiness.

He had to leave the room, too overcome with emotion and nausea to be of any help to you.

When he stepped outside of the small makeshift clinic, the frigid air pierced his lungs, drawing out a long and aching breath, striking him so sharply that he stumbled forward.

He had gripped a wooden post for support, digging his palms into it for purchase, closing his eyes.

He tried to get a handle on his breathing, but it was no use. He felt the bile creeping higher in his throat, until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

It poured out of him, leaving his mouth dry and his head spinning. It was a visceral reaction, his worry over you, over what he had let happen.

He cursed Tommy for entrusting him with you, something so precious. He knew things could have turned out worse, and he was glad that they hadn’t been, but he couldn’t get over how bad they were right now.

How shaken to his core he was that he had allowed this to happen at all.

Joel couldn’t stand to be there anymore, just on the other side of the door that led to you, powerless while the doctor patched you up. So, he did the one thing he had always been good at, he left.

Snow crunched underneath his boots, growing louder in his ears as he walked away from the clinic. He thought that a drink might help calm his nerves.

A part of his brain wanted to forget that this day had ever happened, and another part told him that no amount of alcohol would repair the guilt that was nestled snuggly in his gut. But he could try.

Joel didn’t know how long he had been at the Tipsy Bison, he had lost track of time after the third or fourth whiskey. He blew out a shaky breath, letting a hand drift over his haggard features.

He had been running on adrenaline the whole day and now he was crashing, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in his bones.

But he couldn’t rest, he didn’t deserve to, not when he didn’t know if you had made it or not.

A jolt of horror shot through his body, making his stomach twist in knots. What if you hadn’t made it? He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes as he felt a prick form behind his eyes.

Joel was startled by a firm hand on his shoulder. He twisted slightly to see who it was, his face dropping further when he saw that it was Tommy.

He didn’t have to look at his brother for long to get a read on his expression. What he was thinking.

He was pissed and rightfully so. He had failed you and now he was waiting for Tommy to lay into him, chastise him for being so fucking stupid.

“She’s askin’ for ya”, Tommy said, keeping his voice soft.

Joel turned around in his seat fully to look at Tommy, surprised that he had gotten to his feet so fast. He snorted out a laugh, seeing the fucking relief that was surely on Joel’s face.

Tommy clapped his shoulder again, almost to stabilize him. Joel couldn’t look his brother in the eye, guilt bubbling and breaking the surface, making his skin sting.

“‘M sorry”, he mumbled, “I should’ve been there, I should’ve gotten to her quicker, I shoulda done something”.

Tommy shook his head, “You couldn’t’ve known that would happen, Joel. So stop blaming yourself”.

Joel scratched at his facial hair, running his hand along his jaw, pondering Tommy’s words.

He continued, “You protected her with your life, brother. I couldn’t ask for more than that”.

Joel felt emotion clog his throat. Tommy wasn’t angry with him like he suspected he would be, he was grateful even. Something unfamiliar unfurled in his stomach, something that felt like acceptance.

A long beat stretched between them, “Go see her”, Tommy finally said, a smile pulling at his lips.

He led Joel out of the bar, leading him back to the clinic to go see you. Tommy stopped short of the door, motioning for him to continue without him. Joel nodded curtly, slipping past and entering the small, single-room cabin.

Tentatively, Joel inched closer to the bed that you were in, walking on the balls of his feet, uncertain if you were awake or not. You were lying down, stretched out with your back to him, He sat on the edge of the bed, seeing you turn toward him, a grin on your face as you looked at him. Joel’s face heated under your gaze.

He didn’t deserve that smile, he thought, but he would take it anyway, if you were willing to give it to a man like him. He reached out, stroking your face softly with the back of his fingers.

“Hey, darlin’, how ya feelin’?”, his voice was throaty, raw.

His heart hammered below the surface as your eyes locked with his, pining him to where he sat. He didn’t want to breathe too loudly or make any sudden movements, too afraid that he would break the spell.

“Better now”, you croaked.

Everything collapsed at once inside of him; his resolve, his strength, his pride. He couldn’t fight it any longer, how fucking happy he was that you were still here, still with him.

“What’re you smiling at, hm?”, you asked, arching a brow.

Joel shook his head, his explanation dying on his tongue. He had never been one to lose his words but right now, being so close to you, he wasn’t sure he knew how to speak anymore.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back to the moment. Your hand was freezing as it touched his skin but he didn’t mind.

His smile disappeared as your eyes scanned his face, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry—”, he started, but you shook your head.

“It was my fault, Joel. Don’t you dare apologize for my fucking mistake. I won’t hear it”, you said, your tone firm.

Joel wanted to argue, to tell you that it was his fault but he didn’t have the heart, not when you were only just beginning to heal up, still looking weak and pale.

He could wait for another day to have it out with you. He just nodded instead, and you hummed, content with him seemingly letting it go for now.

Your hand was still on his wrist and he felt a strange sense of calm.

“Come ‘er”, you whispered, tugging on his wrist lightly.

He wasn’t sure what was happening until your lips were on his, soft, pliant, and full. The kiss was sweet but it only lasted a minute. He pulled back, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Thank you”, you said, eyes shining as the light hit them, making them more beautiful than he thought was possible.

He nodded quickly, head still spinning from kissing you. It had been a thank-you kiss and he shouldn’t think more of it.

But goddamn it, he wanted more. He wasn’t mad or upset that you had kissed him, honestly, he had been meaning to do it for months now.

If a kiss filled with gratitude for saving your life was all that he could get, he would accept that, he didn’t want to push his luck.

You noticed the uneasy look on his face, shifting in the bed and using your dwindling strength to sit up.

Now you were the one with creased brows, your eyes darting over his face, trying to find your answer. Realization struck your features.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, Joel. I just didn’t know how else to say it”.

Joel felt like a jackass, that wasn’t what he meant at all.

“That’s not— that’s not it, darlin’. I just didn’t think you’d want to kiss an old man like me”.

His chuckle was thick with depreciation, but you just shook your head, eyes gleaming with something he didn’t recognize. You chewed your lower lip and Joel couldn’t help but stare.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while actually”, you admitted.

Joel’s head snapped up, searching your eyes. You were sincere and he knew it. That was the confirmation that he needed, the hope that lit a flame in his chest. You wanted him too.

A deep chortle escaped Joel’s throat, his face neutral as he leaned in closer to yours. “Then I guess we better make up for lost time then”.

Joel pressed his lips into yours, moulding to the shape of them as he gripped your face in his large hands, letting a groan slip into your mouth. You pulled back with a giggle, fisting the hair at the base of his head.

Your smile was a thousand watts and Joel couldn’t look away. His grip on your face tightened a little more, making sure that this was really happening to him.

He couldn’t believe it but he dove back in regardless, wanting to soak in as much of your love and light that you were willing to give to him.

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bonafideyapper · 1 month

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THE TRADER'S DAUGHTER - cooper "the ghoul" howard x female!oc (part 4)

*THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF PART 3** (guess what? I LIED when I said it would be past/present/past/present, enjoy whatever this is.)

Warnings: language, badly written smut, mentions of body hair (has to be a normal occurence in fallout bc theres no razors out there????), dbf!cooper, P in V sex, unprotected sex, ghoul fucking, unprotected irradiated creampie, Rad Away as birth control, as always not proofread

a/n: Alright! I’m not fully happy with this, but I DID promise a part 4 tonight so here she is in all her glory. Still bad at writing smut, deal with it. (Even tho I’m bad at writing it this is basically just smut with like, small plot points strewn about.)

Word count: 2.1k

previous part - masterlist

Previously, on The Trader's Daughter...

“Ohh, ya want me to touch ya, huh?” Cooper spoke in a hushed tone so as to not alert to her father in the next room what was about to happen. “What happened to you’re too young for me?” He squeezed her thigh with a strong grip, a wide grin coming to his face as he coaxed her thighs open.

“Coop, I-” Daisy breathlessly whispered, overwhelmed by the man and his voice and his hands. Lord have mercy, his hands, those hands that she had dreamed about touching her in ways that would make angels cry. The hands that had strangled a man to death for threatening her.

“I want you to touch me.”

“Well now darlin’, I can touch you however you want me to. But this ain’t gonna be no casual fuck. If I touch you now, you’re a marked woman.” Cooper whispered against the shell of Daisy’s ear, his scarred hand scooting closer to where she craved him most. He could tell she was flustered, and he loved that even after years of being hardened by the wasteland, he still had that panty-dropping effect on members of the fairer sex.

“You sure you want an old man like me to irradiate that pretty little body of yours, flower?” Cooper kept his voice low, fully aware of his friend snoring less than ten feet away.

Daisy’s mouth was dry and she would kill for some water. Somehow she managed to whisper back, “I’ve been on the surface a long time too, Cooper. I can handle a little rad poisoning. Got a good supply of Rad Away stashed away.”

Cooper ran his tongue over his cracked lips, intrigued by the spice coming from the sweet little lady falling apart and he hadn’t even started to touch her yet. “Yeah? Sounds like you’ve been waitin’ a while for a moment like this, sugar. Hell, if I’d’ve known you’d been waitin’ for me this long I would’ve made my way back to you sooner. Could’a gave you another pretty little gift.” His hand reached for her necklace, letting his large calloused digits linger around the little white pearl. He could feel the breath trapped in her chest and swore he could hear the thumping of her heart trapped behind her ribs.

A decade of yearning had led her here, and Daisy was latching on. “Can I um, can I tell you something, Coop?” She felt like a teenage girl again as she looked up at the ghoul inching closer and closer to her, until his knee was slotted between the two of hers. If her father were to walk out now, they could probably play off the position as platonic, as an old friend leaning closer to get a good look at someone they hadn’t seen in years. A wave of nerves rushed over her as she watched him nod, calming herself as she thought about how he was much less of an intimidating figure without that old cowboy hat perched on top of his head.

“You’re like, the guy I modeled my dream man after-” Daisy froze when she heard a shift to her father’s snoring pattern, bringing her awareness back to her surroundings. Cooper swiftly grabbed her chin to force her attention on him. “Uh uh, attention back on me, sweetheart. It’s just us. Now, you were sayin’ about how I was your perfect man?” As he spoke, his hand crept closer to the belt still fastened around her waist, taking his time and being disrespectful in his slow movements to pop her pants open. With each point the woman listed about how he was the model, he dipped one more finger down the front of her pants.

“W-Well yeah, you’ve always been a very honorable man. Always take care of the people close to you.” Daisy tried to keep the conversation as casual as she could but still put up no fight as his fingers dipped below her waistband. She cautiously scooted herself down in the chair to widen her legs for him, blushing when he clicked his teeth, “That’s a good girl. You gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me, flower? Keep tellin’ me ‘bout myself.” Cooper smirked at her, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach.

Daisy swiped her tongue over her lips, desperate for some kind of moisture in her mouth. She’d gladly accept it if he spit in her mouth, and actually, she wanted it. She’d do anything for him, especially if it would keep his hand sinking further down. “I think that you’re a good protector, a great shot back in the day. I’d totally outshoot you now.” She had to throw in a little jab of attitude towards him, wanting to see where it’d get her. “Like the way you talk, always callin’ me some kind o’ pretty-”

Cooper could’ve lost it right then and there when his fingers slipped through the soft curly bush coating her puffy lips, “Look at that, sweet girl, you’re soaked and I ain’t even really touched you yet.” He bragged, letting his finger tap against her clit a few times to watch her twitch, “And princess, as much as I wanna hear that sweet voice of yours scream my name, gonna need you to be quiet for me. Think you can do that?” He whispered to her as he sunk two thick digits into her dripping hole, shoving the same fingers on his other hand into her mouth to silence her when her jaw went slack. “Bite down if you need to; I won’t mind.”

Daisy was on cloud nine, needing to grip the table to hold herself together. She couldn’t tell if this was really happening, not until she felt his weathered fingers brushing against that little spot inside her, building up a tight knot that he was eager to coax from her. She wrapped her pretty little lips around his fingers and then Coop thought he was on cloud nine— he’d get those pretty little lips wrapped around something else soon enough, but right now he was committed to teasing her and making her cum with his fingers. Y’know, had to see if he still got it (he did, he was shocked to find that it took less than five minutes of manipulation for her to gush in his hand with a muffled moan as he clasped his hand over her mouth.)

Daisy closed her thighs around his hands and tried to let her head tip back, half-lidded eyes staring up at his as he dug his fingers in her mouth and pulled her head up to look at him. She whimpered at the loss of his fingers and watched as he licked them clean, a bright red tinge on her cheeks.

“Sweeter than any peach I’ve ever tasted, flower.” Cooper ran his finger over her lips gently, letting her taste herself on the digit. She damn near couldn’t see straight and here he was, still egging her on. “Now, princess, think you can stay quiet for me?”

Any kind of strong-woman act that Daisy had created for herself in her lifetime had dissolved in an instant, turning to putty in his hands and feeling like she was a virgin all over again as she begged him to fuck her. “Please, Cooper, please- I’ll be quiet, I promise. Please, please-” She whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his to show she was being serious. “We can go downstairs, won’t have to worry about dad.”

Cooper pushed himself back from her and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. “Come on then, pretty girl.” Daisy was quick to stand on her shaky legs, not seeming to care about the wet spot that had formed between her legs. She grabbed onto his hand and essentially dragged him down the stairs, pretty eager for a grown woman. Hey, again, Cooper reawoken her teenage dream, Daisy is in no way to blame for her actions. Without having to think about his actions, Cooper easily tossed the girl around like a ragdoll. Their bodies combined in a mixture of clashing teeth and lips and limbs blindly grabbing for each other. Daisy slung an arm around his neck to pull his head closer to her, channeling a lifetime of desire behind her kiss. She’d never been kissed like this before, none of the boys she had messed around with during her girlhood had ever touched her the way Cooper had been

She didn’t have to be told twice, Cooper had barely muttered a “get these off” while pulling at her pants and she had dropped them down around her ankles. She kicked them off and smiled wide when he put his hands on her again, this time to easily lift her up onto the countertop. Daisy locked her legs around his waist and whimpered softly when he broke away from her, already begging for him again, “Coop, please don’t stop yet-” “Aw, darlin’, I’m not stoppin’ shit.” Cooper cracked a sideways smirk, “Not gonna keep you beggin’, either, even though you sound sooo pretty.” he let her dig her hands between them, watching her eagerly take his belt off in the dark backroom of the storefront. He made short work of pushing his pants down, reaching down to grab her thighs and pull her closer to his front.

Daisy helped him out a little by scooting her hips forward, just barely hanging off the side of the counter. She couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were against the flesh of her plump thighs as he grabbed on her, wishing she could see more of him in the dark. She wondered how the years of radiation exposure had affected his dick, but didn’t have to spend long on that thought before he had lined himself up and thrust into her. “Oh fuck-” As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth in a moan, Cooper had that hand slapped over her mouth again.

“Nuh-uh, none of that now, flower. Gonna- fuck- gonna wake up your old man. Don’t want that now, do we?” Cooper whispered against the shell of her ear, barely able to hold himself together now that he was inside her and damn-near feral. He smirked as she nodded against him, her eyes still trained on his. “Good girl.” he whispered as he painstakingly pulled out of her to just the tip, only to slide right back in and bottom out with his hips flush against hers.

Daisy whimpered against his hand and reached up to hold it firmly against her mouth, not wanting to risk not being his good girl. (Also not wanting to risk her dad walking in, but to be honest, she wasn’t thinking much about him when Cooper was between her thighs.) She couldn’t think straight, her mind was completely occupied with himhimhimhimhim. Part of her still felt like this was a dream as she mumbled something against his hand, something along the lines of “don’t hold back.” She figured he could understand her because instead of that painfully slowwww process of teasing her, he started fucking her. And this wasn’t like any of the meaningless fucks she had before, this was with a grown man, a man who had been changed by the immense suffering he had been through before he fell into her life. He was fucking her like his life depended on it and she was drunk on every second.

Cooper didn’t know how long he’d be able to last with her walls gripping him the way she was, with her pretty brown eyes locked on his the entire time. It was much more intimate than he had intended for this to go, he had wanted it to be a good fuck but not one that would leave her wanting more. He had things he needed to do once he left her in the morning, and he hoped that this would be enough to tide her over until he could come back to his Daisy.

Unbeknownst to him, she’d be joining him in his next adventure, whether he wanted her to or not.

“Fuck, darlin’, where do you wan’ me to fin’sh?” Cooper groaned out softly, digging his scarred fingers into the soft skin of her hips, hard enough to leave bruises to remember him by. His words had started to slur together more than usual with that accent of his. Daisy whimpered as she leaned up to press her lips to his, gripping onto the back of his head to keep him close to her, “Told you I got enough Rad Away to stock a Super Duper Mart, where d’ya think I wanted it?” She still had that snippy little attitude to her even after Coop did his best to fuck it out of her (although that hadn’t been the primary goal, it’ll continue to be his goal as long as he continues to fuck her.)

His smirk lit up his face as he bottomed out in her one last time, his hips faltering a bit as he happily pumped her full of his unfruitful seed. He kept his eyes on her face as he watched her- what, third? orgasm take over her. He had lost count after he made her cum the first time with just his fingers. Gentle in his movements this time around, he pulled out of her slowly, taking a second to lean back and watch the cum leak from between her thighs. A satisfied smirk never leaving his face, “Where do you keep the Rad Away?”

gif credit @thesoldiersminute

divider credit @cafekitsune

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser @fallout-girl219 @imtherain @looneylooomis

(I'm trying to compile my taglist from both accounts, so I hope I didn't forget anyone!)

#cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul fallout #fallout imagine #fallout fanfic #fallout oc #ren writes #the trader's daughter

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risingoftime · 2 years

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𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 | 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗

summary: Namor can't help himself when he fantasizes about you and the night you spent together. The God is clouded by desire and needs, as you're the only one who's ignited a fire within him. If he can't have you, he'll create a world where it's possible, even if it's in his mind.

word count: 0.6k (a tease I know)

warnings: smut, masturbation, hand jobs, forbidden lust, risky behaviour, needy!Namor, mentions past p in v. namor pov.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I have lived decades upon decades and have never found a woman who kept me on my toes like her. I’ve grown lonely and impatient. Death has been a never-ending theme in these forsaken waters, outliving everyone I’ve ever loved. She showed me that there is more beyond the surface. I was plagued by the memories of last night and the sound of my name rolling off of her tongue. I found myself throbbing, needing to feel her lips pressed against my skin. I took my length in my hands, stroking myself in slow motions, imagining how it would feel to have her lips wrapped around it. I felt my erection grow hard and heavy at the thought.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat on my bed with my legs parted slightly, biting back a rising moan as the roughness of my palm drove me to sweet insanity. I couldn’t resist the visions of her sucking and gagging, kneeling before me. I was thrusting against my own touch with the same desperation from the night before. The rush of heat runs through me at the thought of taking her to my bed and making love to her endlessly. Fantasizing about the noises and faces that she might make sent me over the edge. I stiffened my grip around my dick, allowing myself to embrace the friction as I raised my hips to grind against my hand. I settled into a regular rhythm, imagining her tight walls instead of my palms.

“Oh fuck” I emitted a low moan as I wiped off the thin coat of wetness from the tip. I felt as if my body was on fire, and the calm waters didn’t subside my body’s desires.

Namor began breathing heavily, curling his toes as flashes of her face clouded his mind. His pace went faster, moving his hand up and down while slightly squeezing his shaft. Namor thought of her skin that glistened against the moonlight and stars. Her lips parted slightly as she pushed her hips against his. He imagined her soft pussy getting wet just for him. She’s as hot and slick around his dick as his fingers. Now, his head is genuinely spinning and shifting between reality and fantasy. He had no choice but to pause to catch his breath before beginning again.

The feathered God released a strangled gasp as he felt his abdomen tense and coil, begging for release. Trapping his erection in his hand, he continued grinding against himself in circular directions. Envisioning himself rubbing against her entrance. Arching his back and spreading his legs further, pleading for more until he could no longer hold it in. Finally, his hand was engulfed with wet heat, and he thrust his dick until he felt raw against his grasp.

A sense of clarity came over him after he reached orgasm. The illusions he created in his mind slowly slipped away, and the realization of what he had just done was all that was left. He would do it again and again without shame. Namor knew it would be a while until he could have her under him again. But that didn’t mean a God couldn’t dream.

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 9 months

Text

Broken Heart

Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.

You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.

Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Language, blood, injuries

Previous Chapter

Chapter 18-

You awoke with a pained gasp and sat up only for multiple hands to suddenly grab your shoulders pushing you back down. You thrashed in the people’s grip, your mind racing a thousand miles a second as you stared up at the strangers above you.

"Easy, Witcher. Easy. Your friend the sorceress bought you here." The dryad woman said calmly. "My name is Eithné. You are safe, but you are severely injured."

At the mention of Triss, you stopped trying to fight the strangers. The mage wouldn't bring you to them if they weren't trustworthy, and you trusted Triss.

You dropped back down against the makeshift bed the dryads seemed to have put you on. Your head was pounding and ribs aching, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your left knee. Vilgefortz’s staff had done some serious damage and you were almost afraid to look and see the extent of it.

You glanced between the strangers above you. One was stitching the gash on your forehead while the others were trying to fix your knee. You looked past them and scanned your surroundings realising that you were in a wooden hut before your eyes landed on familiar white hair on a bed across the room.

It was Geralt.

Geralt was here.

You were up and out of the bed before any of the dryads could stop you, but the second you put weight on your injured leg, you collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain.

"She just told you that you are severely injured." One of the strangers muttered.

"Milva, easy. The Witcher is in distress." Eithné said, glaring at the woman.

You ignored them both and dragged your body across the ground to Geralt’s bed. Your hurt leg burned in pain, but you gritted your teeth and kept moving until you reached his side.

"G-Geralt." You winced, pulling yourself up until you were sitting on the edge of his bed and let out a gasp when you looked at him properly.

Geralt's skin was paler than you had ever seen it. His face dotted with angry red gashes and cuts that were surrounded by darkening bruises. Even with his elixirs Geralt was never this pale. If it wasn't for his laboured breathing, you would have thought he was dead.

The dryads had wrapped his thigh, covering the broken bone but you could still see the dark bloodied stains on his pants from the injury.

"Fuck." You gasped taking it all in. "Heal him. Please-please just fix him." You glanced over your shoulder to Milva and Eithné.

"N...no." Geralt’s gruff voice murmured.

Your head snapped back in his direction instantly, the sudden movement making your bad headache worse, but you didn't care because Geralt just fucking spoke. He was awake. His eyes were closed but he was conscious.

"Geralt. Hey, hey, it's me. It's Y/N. The dryads will heal you and-and everything will be okay-"

"N-no... don't."

His voice was barely above a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear.

He didn't want the dryads to heal him. Why?

"He's refusing to let us help him. Says it's a waste of time." Eithné explained, appearing beside you and looking down at Geralt with a disapproving scowl. "His back is broken, same with his leg and he has... uh, other bad injuries. But we can't do anything until he lets us help him."

"Jesus Christ." You swore softly under your breath before turning your attention back to Geralt. "Why don't you want them to help you? Geralt? Hey, talk to me. Why don't you want to heal?"

"It... it-it doesn't... matter."

He forced every word out between laboured gasping breaths. Each word sounding painful like just the mere act of speaking was causing him agony.

"Why doesn't it matter?" You questioned, lifting your hand and cupping the side of his face while avoiding the worst of the cuts and bruises. "Geralt, please just talk to me. Why doesn't it matter?"

"... C... Ciri. We... lost her." He croaked.

Oh, no.

The tower of Tor Lara had collapsed. It was all coming back to you. The tower completely shattered, and Ciri was inside. You knew she was. Ciri was gone... your little girl was gone.

A strangled cry left your lips, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hands to muffle your sobs as tears streamed down your face at that horrible realisation.

Ciri was gone.

Geralt didn't want to heal because his daughter was gone. He had given up. Geralt had given up.

Suddenly a hand touched your good knee, and you looked down to find Geralt’s trembling fingers squeezing you gently. His eyes remained closed, and you figured it hurt him too much to open them, but you could see the slow tears escaping from the corner of his eyelids.

You leant down and wrapped your arms around Geralt’s shoulders, ignoring the sharp pain radiating through your ribs at the angle. You rested your head against his chest and hugged him while you cried and with great effort, Geralt raised his arms ever so slightly and hugged you back.

Within the next 24 hours, the dryads had healed most of your injuries with their healing waters, except for your knee. For whatever reason, that injury refused to heal. Eithné said that it might have something to do with your Witcher mutagen soaring through your veins because although the healing waters healed humans instantly, it was different for mutans.

"You're pushing yourself too quickly." Milva commented from where she leant against the tree watching you trying to jog through the woods with your injured knee.

You ignored her and continued jogging, your left knee screaming at you in protest with each step as you jumped over fallen logs and around rocks. You needed to get your body back into fighting condition. You had to keep training through the pain.

You jumped over the next log, but the second your bad leg touched the ground it buckled from underneath you and you collapsed down on the grass covered dirt with a frustrated growl.

"Told you!" Milva called out.

"What am I meant to do, huh? Geralt is refusing to get help. He's given up, but I won't!" You shouted, sucking in a deep shaky breath before you grabbed hold of the tree beside you and forced yourself back to your feet.

"Why?" Milva asked curiously.

"I can't give up. I can't!" You yelled, your voice breaking before you took in another deep breath. "I won't. Geralt has given up hope, but I can't... I have to keep fighting because if Ciri is still alive, she needs us. I won't abandon her."

"If you keep pushing yourself too far, you might not have a choice."

"I know how much my body can handle." You snapped, glaring at the woman who raised her hands in surrender.

"Whatever. I'm going hunting. Try not to die while I'm gone."

Milva threw her bow over her shoulder and walked away. You watched her disappear through the woods before you let go of the tree you had been holding onto for support and tested your knee out.

It hurt, but it always hurt.

Slowly, you put more weight onto it and when your leg didn't threaten to turn to jelly at the pressure, you began to take a few stumbling steps. Those few steps turned into a few more, and then a few more until you were walking around the small clearing in the woods without any issues.

Okay, that was a lie.

There were a lot of issues. The sharp pain for one and the fact that you were limping severely with each step was bad, but you were walking, so that's what you were focusing on.

You continued limping up and down along the dirt track, slowly increasing your speed until you were back to a jogging pace. It was nowhere near as fast as you would have liked, but it was better than nothing.

The jog barely lasted a full minute before you had to grab hold of the nearest tree to stop yourself from falling face first into the grass when your leg buckled from underneath you once again.

"Mother fucker!" You hissed, gripping the tree trunk for dear life and lifting your bad leg from the ground trying to do anything to ease the pain ripping through your knee.

"You're stubborn, Witcher." Milva’s voice suddenly called out.

Great, she was back.

You glanced to your left to find her emerging from the woods with a grouse hanging loosely in her hand by her side, but her eyes were focused on your bad knee as she walked over to you.

"Come on, I'll help you back to camp." Milva said, holding her arm out.

You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again because you knew you needed the help. You had pushed your knee too far and you both knew it.

Reluctantly, you draped your arm across Milvas shoulders, allowing the other woman to help you walk as you limped back into camp. Geralt was still lying on his bed. He hadn't moved an inch from when you had first arrived. His eyes fluttered open at the noise when you entered, and his pale face turned worried when he saw Milva help you sit on your bed beside his.

"Your girl is fine, Witcher." Milva reassured, noticing his panic. "Her knee needs to rest. Here, grouse. I caught it especially for you."

Milva held up the animal in her hand for Geralt to see.

"I don't want it." His voice was still rough, but it was the wheezing with each breath that had you more worried.

"Of course, you don't." Milva sighed, before she turned and began walking out the hut. "Ungrateful twat." She muttered over her shoulder.

You looked over at Geralt hating how dull his once bright golden eyes used were as he stared up at the roof of the hut blankly.

"You need to eat." You reminded him, despite having told him multiple times and not once had he listened.

"No point."

"No point? Geralt, how can you even say that?"

"Ciri is gone... I failed her." He mumbled, tilting his head towards you. "There's no point."

"There's no point?" You repeated in disbelief. "What about me?"

"Y/N-"

"No. I get it, okay? You wanna just lay here and wait for it all to be over because our daughter is gone. But what about me? I'm still here."

Tears burned in the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them spill. You were not crying about this. You had cried enough over the last couple of days trying to talk sense into Geralt and you were done with it.

"If you can't fight for yourself, then fight for me! Let them heal you, eat the damn grouse. Don't do it for yourself. Do it for me. Please!" You pleaded, blinking away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"I'm sorry, little one." He whispered.

You shook your head as you stared at him, his body starting to blur through the tears in your eyes before you suddenly stood up, gritting your teeth at the pain in your knee before you limped out the hut needing fresh air.

You stumbled a few metres away from the hut before grabbing hold of the nearest tree. You took in a few deep trembling breaths trying to calm yourself down when sudden faint singing filled the air.

What the fuck?

You focused in on singing. The words were in Elven, but that voice... you knew that voice from anywhere.

It was Jaskier.

Not even a minute later, Milva wandered through the camp with Jaskier trailing behind her.

Holy shit, it really was him.

Milva pointed in your direction before she walked off, leaving the bard frowning in confusion as he watched her walk away before he glanced over to you and his jaw dropped. Jaskier sprinted across the forest camp towards you, and you pushed yourself away from the tree and took a few staggering steps towards him before practically collapsing in his embrace.

Jaskier stumbled back at the impact but kept his footing as you leant into him heavily and he wrapped his arms around your body and hugged you tightly.

The tears that you had been trying so hard to keep at bay finally started to spill and once the first one fell, the rest followed like a rapid waterfall. You buried your face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck, your arms tightening around his body.

Jaskier didn't say anything for a solid couple of minutes, either too surprised to speak or realising that you needed this hug more than anything. He simply held you against him, kissing the top of your head and allowing you to cry in his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you." Jaskier whispered while he rubbed soothing circles over your back.

His words only made you cry harder, and you hated yourself for it, but knew Jaskier wouldn't judge you.

Eventually you pulled away, wiping the tears from your face as you took a step back, but your leg instantly buckled under the sudden weight and if it wasn't for Jaskiers quick reflexes, you would have fallen to the ground.

"Fuck, she said you were both injured." Jaskier cursed under his breath, wrapping his arm behind your back to keep you standing as he looked down at you worriedly. "Are you okay? What is it? What hurts?"

"My knee. Just my knee." You winced trying to bend it, but unable to. "But Geralt..."

"What about him?" Jaskier asked, although by the sound of his voice he seemed scared of the answer.

"H-he isn't well. He's given up and-and he's refusing help, and he won't eat and-" You breathlessly explained before Jaskier cut you off.

"Breathe. Y/N, just breathe."

You took in a deep shaky breath before slowly exhaling, not even realising that you had been working yourself up into a panic.

"Can you take me to him?" Jaskier asked calmly.

"In there." You pointed to the wooden hut.

Jaskier kept his arm around your back and helped you walk as the two of you slowly made your way to the small hut before pausing at the open entrance.

"Geralt? Are you decent?" Jaskier called out, looking into the hut before glancing down at you. "He's never decent."

You opened your mouth about to warn Jaskier of the true extend of Geralt’s injuries but didn't get a chance before he was leading you into the hut, but very quickly froze when he saw the Witcher’s injuries himself.

"Oh my fuck..."

Geralt laid wheezing on top of his makeshift bed, his dull eyes locked with Jaskier’s before he glanced past the bard and looked at you.

Jaskier carefully led you further in the room before reaching Geralt’s side and you gingerly sat down on the edge of his bed with Jaskiers help before the bard grabbed a small crate and used it as a makeshift seat beside Geralt’s bed.

"Hey. Hey. Ah, you alright?" Jaskier hesitantly asked, leaning towards Geralt because it was very obvious that Geralt wasn't alright, but he had no idea what else to say. "I thought Triss would have healed you... both of you."

Jaskier glanced over at you briefly before looking back down at Geralt who reached over and grabbed the bard’s arm.

"What news?" Geralt groaned. "Is it Yen or Ciri?"

"Yennefer's fine. She's safe." Jaskier hurriedly reassured, and you felt your body relaxing a little at the news.

You might not like that mage very much, but that didn't mean you wanted her dead.

"Ciri's alright." Jaskier added and your eyes widened.

"She's alive?"

Jaskier glanced back at you with a look of shock, "you thought she was dead?"

"The tower... it collapsed and... is she okay? Where is she?" You frantically questioned, leaning forward and grabbing Jaskier’s shoulder. "Is she okay?"

"She's alright. She's..." Jaskier’s expression crumpled as his eyes started swimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. Ciri's missing."

The small sliver of hope that was blossoming inside you got ripped apart at those two simple words. Jaskier rested his free hand over yours and gave it a small squeeze when he noticed the tears rising in your eyes once again.

"Yennefer's hunting for her, but Nilfgaard, they... I came straight from Thanedd when I heard you both were here." Jaskier continued to explain, looking between you and Geralt. "Some of my old Sandpiper routes. There's this village, outside Roggeveen, and... they razed it... to the ground. I tried to find survivors, but... they were willing to kill everyone to find her."

Jaskier released your hand and reached for something inside his jacket before he pulled out a piece of paper and held it up for you both to see.

"Apparently, it worked. The emperor announced the celebration. She's on her way to Nilfgaard."

Geralt instantly met your gaze and blinked, his once dull eyes now burning golden yellow.

"What else do you know?" You asked, looking back to Jaskier.

"I just heard a Nilfgaardian royal carriage has been seen traveling."

"How long until Emhyr has her?" Geralt grunted.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Jaskier sighed, looking between the two of you uselessly. "What are we going to do?"

"Help me up." Geralt ordered.

"Wait, Geralt, no. I'm glad you've no longer given up, but you can't. Your back is broken." You hurriedly said causing Jaskier’s eyes to widen in shock.

"Yes, he broke his back and look at his leg." Milva's voice suddenly said, and you glanced over your shoulder to find her entering the hut. "Like your girlfriend and I have been saying, you can't leave unless you get better. And you won't get better unless you let us help you. You need more healing waters and plenty of rest. You too Miss Witcher."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm fine."

"Yeah? Stand up right now and tell me it doesn't hurt." Milva challenged.

You glared at her, and she just smirked before holding up the grouse that she had shot earlier and glanced over at Geralt, "grouse?"

Geralt sighed, "give me the damn grouse."

"Oh, now you want it."

"There's a very weird energy between you three." Jaskier commented, looking between you all in slight confusion yet amusement.

Eithné and her healers got to work on Geralt. They made him drink some kind of liquid that looked and smelt awful, but within a few minutes of drinking, he could lift his arms higher and had more movement. So whatever the liquid was, it was healing his back.

The healers pushed his broken bone in his thigh back in place and tied a few sticks around it as a makeshift splint before dousing it with the healing waters, however just like your knee, it didn't work.

"The waters weren't successful. Like I said to your girl when they didn't work on her knee. They're meant for natural beings, not mutants." Milva informed.

"Pack up. We leave in the morning." Geralt grunted, and you watched in shock as he sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the sides like he hadn't just spent the past few days incapacitated with a broken back and leg, unable to move.

"Good, yeah. Uh, might I suggest we wait until your leg pus stops visibly oozing first?" Jaskier responded, but Geralt wasn't listening as he got to his feet and stumbled across the hut before grabbing the wooden walking stick one of the healers provided.

You watched in amazement as he staggered out the hut, Milva rushing after him shouting that he wasn’t in any condition to do so, but you knew Geralt wouldn't listen. The great White Wolf was many things, including stubborn. Once he had an idea or plan, he was doing it, no matter what. Whether his body was up for the task, it didn't matter because Geralt would do it with just sheer willpower alone if he had to and you admired that about him.

You stood up from the edge of his bed, but your bad knee was still protesting when you tried to walk. Jaskier was quickly by your side and laced his arm around your shoulders, helping you walk out the hut.

"Are you two gonna stop him?" Milva questioned in frustration.

"Not a chance." You easily replied because Geralt was back. He was no longer giving up, he was fighting, and like hell you were going to stop him.

"I've been telling him for months he needs to think about himself, not just Ciri-" Jaskier started to say before Milva cut him off.

"Oh, so you're not completely useless?"

"But I was wrong." Jaskier continued, glancing over at her before looking back to Geralt. "Protecting her, protecting his family, it's who he is. I'd have to kill him to stop him. And even in this sorry-arse state, I'm pretty sure he could snap me like a toothpick, so no. I'm not going to stop him. If he needs my help, he has it."

Jaskier glanced down at you with a questioning look, and you nodded before he helped you walk out the hut towards Geralt.

"So, you're all fucking lunatics!" Milva shouted before she jogged past you and stopped in front of Geralt who was struggling to walk with his makeshift walking stick. "You really think you're ready to go find your girl?"

You watched in shock as she kicked his stick out from under him forcing Geralt to grab hold of the tree nearby to stop himself from falling over.

"'Cause you'd be dead now. And she is no better with the bard helping her." Milva pointed at you and Jaskier. "Neither of you are in any shape to walk across the forest, much less the Continent!"

"Not right now. But we will be." You responded, looking over at Geralt who met your gaze with a small nod.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter was so late. Work has been hectic and my grandma died. But I finally had a chance to update this story, I hope you are all enjoying it ❤️

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia fanfiction #the witcher #henry cavill #jaskier #joey batey

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inkblot-inc · 5 months

Text

RCD: NYFW, FOMO

Summary: Knowing the sour history between Skitch and Natasha, we'll just have to see how they decide to interact with each other going forward, if at all; Fear Of Missing Out AKA Forget Our Missed Opportunities

Pairing: Jeweler!Wanda Maximoff x Metalworker!Reader

[Everything Else From the RCD Universe] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] This is Part 4

Warning(s): Oh there's definitely language in this one, I remember. There's also mention of past toxic relationships/friendships, but that's about it

Note(s): Here we are at the last part of The Fashion Week Incident, so let's cap it off baby, LET'S GO!

Word Count: a bit under 1k

ALSO: *squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Again, Wanda and Natasha weren't the bestest of friends before that night. They were friendly acquaintances within the same circle of the fashion industry, so when Skitch tells Wanda about their history with Nat, she's rightfully standoffish toward the fashion designer on the last day of fashion week.

Skitch is kind of just over it and wants to enjoy the rest of fashion week with Wanda and just ignore that Natasha is there. They haven't let Natasha affect their life for so long that they just want to move on with everything.

Natasha, however, since seeing Skitch after all these years is definitely more remorseful and wants to bridge the gap between them and apologize for how she treated Skitch and how they cut ties so abruptly.

The actual runway presentation on the last day goes off without a hitch. After the show, Wanda and Skitch are both mingling again as per usual when Natasha eventually comes up to Skitch and asks to talk to them privately. Skitch brings Wanda along because anything that Natasha has to say can be said in front of Wanda as well seeing as Wanda knows about their past. The three of them do go outside of the venue for privacy, though.

Natasha releases a shaky breath before starting. "I was hoping that we can start fresh, and just put what happened behind us. I know things got ugly, and I'm not proud of how I dealt with things and how much of a bitch I was to you. I wish I reached out to you sooner,"

Wanda could feel her own eye twitch a little bit, "I'm ashamed of the person I was and how I treated you... if I could go back in time-"

That was where you were done just listening, "But you can't go back in time, Natasha- Fuck, NO part of that was an apology! That's what I want, Natasha. An apology. I can't help but think that that is outside of your reach to give me, seeing as I was never just ENOUGH! I was somehow not doing enough as a kid with 'nothing to offer', or I was overbearing enough to let me get arrested for protecting you!" At some point you stopped seeing the older woman dressed in finer fabrics and instead saw the ambitious college sophomore who never wore any outfit without one of your borrowed leather jackets. "Maybe if I'm MAD ENOUGH I'll be worthy of an earnest 'sorry' from you! I just!-...All I wanted was to finally be enough..."

Natasha's eyes continued to water as tears flowed down her cheeks. Her hand helplessly tried to reach out to you, her voice weak and strangled by overflowing emotion. "You were always enough, Y/n. I- fuck... I'm so sorry that I ever treated you like you were beneath me, that you were a nuisance, that I told you that you were 'wasting your time' while with working for Logan. Hell! I'm sorry that I resented you for putting your future on hold for my benefit! I'm sorry for acting like I was better than anyone and taking you and Logan and Annie and Kurt for granted... but you are enough, Y/n. You always have been. And I'm sorry that I made you feel any less than."

Your face is still stoic, but you can't help but let a few tears of your own fall at Natasha's words. "I know that now, but I didn't need you to tell me that anymore." You tightened your grip on yours and Wanda's clasped hands. "I've had the better half a decade to think and make my piece with your shit, Nat... And in time, I think-... I think I could forgive you. But I can't speak on behalf of the others at home you hurt, like Annie and Kurt, and I damn sure can't speak for my dad. You'll have to talk to them yourself to try to make amends... but consider this the olive branch. Don't snap it."

Wanda, who just found out about Skitch and Natasha's past together the night before, however, is a lot more hesitant to be as cordial with Natasha. She was there to hold Skitch while they cried recalling just how fucked their dynamic used to be, how small they felt after they got bailed out of jail. It was rare for Wanda to see Skitch's rays of sunshine so dim, but she could also feel that tiny shred of hope Skitch had in Natasha to show how much she's changed. Not reverting back to the way things were when they were young and the best of friends. But to have a new friendship built on mutual respect.

Wanda had yet to move as she simply stared at Natasha. "What I can't wrap my head around, is that Y/n went to jail for you, and you just let them ride that out?"

Natasha turned to Wanda, briefly wiping her face, "I couldn't even try to understand my own thought process with what happened that night and leading up to it. There was something about not wanting feeling 'smothered' by the affection of the people that cared about me and craving to be in the 'in' crowd. Wanting the space to make my own choices even though I was the most homesick I had ever been at that time. And pride, there was a lot of pride... too much of it where it wasn't justified, seeing as I cut off the people I wanted to be proud of me the most. I've never forgiven myself for how self-centered I was, nor will I try to justify it. I just hope that I'll be given the opportunity to prove myself to be a real friend to Y/n this time."

Wanda couldn't help but hope for the same, for the both of their sakes, but she would be right beside Skitch to make sure they weren't hurt again.

'I'm sure they are proud of you.'

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yanderepuck · 5 months

Text

When will I stop torturing this boy

Welcome to Vincent angst time. I swear this is probably the most tame of them all

BUT ITS STILL ME WE ARE TALKING ABOUT so tw for suicide mention and some depression. BUT THAT'S IT! Tame right?

Stay safe out there~

~~~~~

"Do you think Sien is still alive?"

It was quiet before and it was quiet after. Vincent is staring up at the ceiling. It's a different ceiling. Theos ceiling.

Laying on his back, looking up, his hands folded and resting on his stomach. The room must have been too quiet. His thoughts started wondering.

Theo is at his desk and pauses what he's doing immediately. He knows exactly who he means. He sets his pen down and turns in his chair to face his brother.

Before he can say anything Vincent starts again.

"She told me she was going to kill herself. By drowning."

He brings this up so casually. As if killing yourself is such a normal conversation. Well to Vincent it sort of is. It's still taboo of course but he's with Theo. They can talk about anything.

Theo sits back in his chair, having a feeling this is going to be a painful talk. They haven't been dead for a decade. Under normal circumstances he would say: of course she is!

But if she wanted to kill herself just like his brother, then who knows.

Vincent hasn't taken his eyes off the ceiling. He hasn't moved an inch.

"Why are you thinking about her."

It wasn't a question. It's been way too long since he had heard her name and he was hoping he wouldn't have to again.

Vincent is quiet for a bit as if he is thinking. He didn't have an answer. He's just simply overthinking, and remembering.

"Her kids are at least alive. Willem should be an adult soon. Maria could have her own family."

He was talking like he was speaking about family. Theo couldn't be anymore confused.

"Broer.." all he could do was sigh. He didn't know what to say. He stands up, forcing himself to walk to the bed.

Even when he sits down Vincent doesn't move.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sien. Remember?" He finally moves his head, looking at his very concerned brother. "She lived with me for almost two years."

"Yes, the prostitute," he groaned.

Their whole family had been against the relationship. Even if it was the only woman who seemed to actually want to be with Vincent. One of the few women who didn't immediately reject him.

"She stopped that," his eyebrows furrowed, clearly getting upset about using that term.

"Former prostitute. Broer you need to stop thinking about her. She wasn't the one she wasn't meant to be."

Vincent looks back at the ceiling, not making a comment immediately. "I wanted to be like you and Johanna."

Theo blinks. "Huh?"

"I wanted..." His words fade away. What did he want? He must have been making a puzzled face because Theo takes his hands and holds one as if he's trying to get him to relax.

"I get what you wanted, but you weren't going to get that with her."

Quiet again. Theo doesn't know what to say. He can't even tell what Vincent is thinking.

"Vincent, I-"

"I love her," he looks upset again. "Love? Loved?" He's wondering if the emotions are in the past or if he still has them. He pouts, unable to tell. If he's thinking about her he must still love her.

"You dated and it didn't work out. It's normal. It happens to everyone," Theo didn't want him to think he was alone with these feelings. "I was with other women before Johanna, remember? Don't you remember Elisabeth's first break up?"

Theo chuckles remembering his older sister.

Vincent's face scrunches up trying to remember. Actually no. He's not hearing Theo at all. His mind is still on Sien. He wants to see her. Wants to know how she's doing.

"Do you think she was upset to find out I died?"

Theo sighs, realizing he isn't getting through to him. "Come here," he grips his hand better and pulls him up. Vincent's body moves like a ragdoll.

"I'm sure she was upset to hear the news," he pulls Vincent closer so that he's leaning against him. "But that doesn't mean you were-"

"I wanted to marry her."

Theo freezes. He knows this. It was talked about in their letters. But it wasn't a statement that he kept in the front of his mind.

"Maybe things would have been different. Maybe I would have been happier. Maybe I won't have-"

"That's enough 'maybe's," he runs his hand up and down Vincent's arm to keep reminding him that he's right there. "What's done is done and we can't change it now."

He looks at Theo again. His eyes look so dull. Not the bright blue he is so used to seeing. Now that he's closer he can tell. He's already fallen in a pit and nothing he could say would pull him out of it.

"Why didn't you like her?"

Theo had to be careful with this answer. The answer should be clear. She was a prostitute. Pregnant with her fourth kid when the two met. Each kid had a different father. Two of the kids passed. She had nowhere to go. He wouldn't be surprised if she was with him just to have a roof over her head.

Vincent is so kind he would have never turned her away. But the man next to him on his bed deserved so much better than that. Theo would never understand how he got rejected time and time again. Yes he wasn't the most mentally or financially stable, but he's kind, he's attractive, he would do anything to make sure his partner was happy.

Vincent just looked at Theo with his cold blue eyes waiting for a response.

"I-I didn't think she was right for you, broer. You were struggling at the time, how were you going to take care of the three of them?"

Vincent looks away, resting his head on Theo's shoulder without saying another word.

Now Theo is arguing with himself. Was that the right thing to say?

"She named Willem after me. Just like how you named your son after me. She must have really cared."

Theo decides to say nothing more and keeps rubbing his arm, trying to keep him in reality.

"I hope she didn't drown."

Tag lis~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @p1nkpandomium @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @azulashengrottospiano

Ik I really only use the tag list for smut but you'll be fine

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp vincent #tw suicide mention

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monaownsmyass · 5 months

Text

Reunion

Book: Ride-or-Die (2)

Pairing: Mona x MC (Ellie Wheeler)

Genre: ANGST (and just some general fluff)

Rating: PG13, Mona has a colourful vocabulary

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: So since we now know what was supposed to happen in Book 2, I HAD to write Mona reuniting with MC again for the first time in 5 years. The idea of them seeing each other after so long, the tension, mhmm! Since I'm working with the bare bones, I'm only guessing how most of the plot was suppose to go down. So if there's any plot holes in my own story, just ignore it :3

I never thought I'd be posting a fic again. And yet, here I am, years later writing for Mona cuz we were ROBBED of Book 2. I feel like I've come full circle cuz my very first fic was for Mona and I'm pretty sure this is gonna be my last. At least for a while. The last fic I posted was the last time I think I properly wrote anything so forgive me if I'm rusty, but anything for my baby Mona <3 Lmk whatcha think of this fic!

Ellie stared unblinkingly at the still face looking back at her from the screen. Her jaw clenched as her mind raced. Five years, it's been five years since she had seen her, five years since she's heard anything about her and there she was. And tomorrow, if everything goes to plan, she'll be right in front of Ellie. She'll actually be there, with her in the same physical space and not the one she had shared with her in her mind over the past half decade.

Just the thought alone was enough to make Ellie want to throw up, either from excitement or nervousness or both, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she had been imagining this moment constantly ever since she last saw her. Ellie always thought about what she would say, what she would do, but she could never quite figure out what that would be. And for the longest time, she thought it wouldn't matter. She thought she would never see her again.

Until now, that is.

Ellie inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. But she never seemed to be able to whenever she looked into those sly brown eyes and at that infuriating smirk on that gorgeous face. It was no different now, apparently.

She slammed her laptop shut. She'll worry about it when she's there.

~.~

Ellie was hyperaware of everything around her. The heat emanating from her coffee into her palms, the espresso machine whirring, the music in the background, the grains of the wooden table.

Suddenly, she heard the shop doorbell ring and her heart fell to her stomach.

She just knew.

Ellie didn't turn to look, she just couldn't bear the weight of it. Instead, she heard, she felt.

She heard the familiar footsteps of boots walking towards her that awoke distant memories. She felt her eyes shut on its own accord. She heard a soft sound of curiosity coming from where the footsteps had stopped. She felt her heart drumming so hard in her chest, she could hear it in her ears. She felt a presence looming over her. She heard a hand slap against the metal backing of the chair across from her.

And then nothing.

Ellie slowly opened her eyes and gulped. When did her throat get so dry?

The first thing she saw was a perfectly manicured hand gripping the chair in front of her that lead up to a familiar fully tattooed arm. She forced her gaze upwards, finding it exceedingly difficult, feeling as if she was fighting against an invisible force, as if the more she dare to look up, the more her own eyes were denying her.

She took in the other hand resting against the waistband of dark pants. She noticed a black tank top covered by a black leather jacket and the way the necklaces worn rested against it. Her breath hitched and her heart stopped when her gaze finally met the one of the woman she had been dreaming of for 5 years now.

And goddamn, was she just as stunning as Ellie had remembered, even more so maybe.

"Mona," she softly breath out as if she was hoping it was true. The name sounded foreign yet familiar against her lips. Oh, how she had missed saying that name.

There Mona was, a hand on her hip and the other propping herself up by the chair, a brow raised and the corner of her lips quirked upwards, as if fighting a smile back. Her pretty brown eyes gazed down deeply into Ellie's and Ellie felt as if she was losing an unspoken uphill battle.

"Well, well, well," Mona whispered and Ellie nearly laughed in relief at being able to listen to her voice again. It was surreal. "If it isn't Ellie fucking Wheeler. Hello, princess."

~.~

The entire situation was so overwhelming for Ellie, she didn't know what to do with herself. She was between a constant push and pull state of fidgety and paralyzed. It was like a dream and a nightmare come true and Ellie wasn't even sure if she wanted to be woken up if it was one.

But it wasn't, and Ellie still wasn't sure what she'd say or do now that she was face to face with the woman that had been haunting her thoughts since she met her.

Ellie took in Mona who was now sitting opposite her. She was leaned back with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Everything about her posture would suggest to Ellie that Mona was being standoffish. The only thing that was making her second guess herself were those damn eyes. Mona made no effort to hide the fact that her eyes were blatantly flickering up and down Ellie's form. They finally settled back on Ellie's and she swore she saw Mona's gaze soften just the tiniest bit. Ellie had no clue if she was assessing her as well or checking her out.

Despite her many psychology classes on body language and facial expressions, she still couldn't read Mona. She never had been able to. It was something that Ellie had appreciated every now and then, she liked that Mona kept her on her toes. But now wasn't one of those times.

"I didn't think you'd come," Ellie blurted out and finally broke the silence, not being able to stand the way Mona was looking at her anymore.

Mona cocked an eyebrow at her and shrugged a little. "It's not everyday I get a letter from a girl I took a bullet for 5 years ago. Had to see for myself." Ellie had no idea how to respond but she didn't need to because almost immediately after, Mona leaned in forward and glowered at her. "How did you find me?"

Mona was so near, Ellie could smell her perfume and she'd be lying if she said it didn't make her a bit heady. Ellie leaned back into her chair, feeling the need to put some space between the two of them. She saw the corners of Mona's lips twitch in a flash as she did.

Unlike Ellie, Mona always could've read Ellie very much easily, probably even a bit too easily.

Ellie shut her eyes tight, trying to think of an easy, gentle way to break the news to Mona. There was no easy, gentle way.

"Look, Mona," she sighed and looked up at her. "I was hoping to warm you up a little before I jump into it but since you asked...," Ellie drifted off and paused for a moment to try and figure out the best way to phrase her next sentence. "I'm working with the FBI and I need your help."

Just as Ellie had predicted, Mona was mad. Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair and leaned in even closer to Ellie, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"What the fuck, Ellie?!" Mona whispered angrily, her voice low. "If you're working with the cops, then you know that I fucking broke out of prison, right? You're basically leading them back to me!"

"Mona, listen," Ellie leaned forward and placed a hand on Mona's, not knowing how else to reassure her. It was a mistake, Ellie's breath hitched being so close to her. Both their eyes flickered down at their hands before meeting each other's again. Mona jaw unclenched just the slightest bit and didn't pull away so Ellie continued. "They agreed to clear your remaining offenses and even your criminal record if you cooperate with them."

Mona finally pulled her hand away and she folded her arms again, leaning back into her seat. Ellie leaned back as well, thankful for a way out. She knew she was on the verge of doing something stupid.

Mona considered what Ellie had told her. "What makes you think I want that? If you're working for the pigs you'd know that I'm still involved."

"I'm working with them, not for them," Ellie corrected. "And from what rumors I heard, your current situation is more of a necessity than a want, it's transactional."

Ellie looked at Mona expectantly. If she was honest, she was hoping Mona would fill in the gaps for her because that was all she knew. She hadn't gotten any details. Instead, Mona asked, "Why are you working with them, anyway?"

"There's a heist crew that Logan was in that obtained list of important informants and the FBI thinks I can help 'cuz I have ties with him."

"And where do I fit into this?" Mona questioned, unamused.

"Your current... involvement... appears to have connections to them, so we need your help to gather intel," Ellie put it plainly, no point sugarcoating it and wrapping it up in a pretty bow, especially since she knew Mona would appreciate the directness more.

"Hm," Mona squinted at Ellie and Ellie tried her best to maintain composure which was proving to be very hard in Mona's presence. "Very bold of you to assume I'd risk my neck by going behind the backs of one of the most dangerous crime families just to helps out a bunch of cops. Very stupid, but very bold too. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or disappointed."

Ellie couldn't help but grin. It was the most Mona-like thing she had said and just for a little while, it felt like old times. She decided to push her luck a little further. "Can you... is it okay if you explain to me why you're with them?"

Mona glared at Ellie and then let out a huff, running her fingers through her hair, clearly frustrated. Ellie just watched in silence, unsure what to make of it.

"After all this time and you still can make me want to talk, it's embarrassing," she mumbled and Ellie had to strain to listen to her. Ellie felt her heartbeat start to pick up again at Mona's words. "I'll make it quick. Escaped prison, cops chased, crime family protect, work for them, safe from cops." She gestured with her hand lazily, explaining with complete disinterest as if she's told this story a million times which was ironic since this was probably the first time she told this to anyone.

"Well, think about it this way," Ellie had offered in response after taking some time to ponder. "If you help the FBI, you'll help bust them and clear your offenses, which means you'll be free, Mona."

Ellie could practically see the gears turning in Mona's head, or more like, she could practically see her weighing out the pros and cons on a scale. Mona's eyes flitted from staring at her table up to meet Ellie's and Ellie forced herself not too look away, daring to challenge Mona to accept her offer.

Mona sighed and unfolded her arms to gesture with her hands. "It's a very tempting offer, believe me."

"But?"

"But there's a reason they're the biggest crime family," Mona said in a hushed yet hurried tone. "If they haven't gotten caught for this long, I doubt me throwing a wrench in their plans and schemes would do jackshit!"

Mona was frustrated, but Ellie could tell it was more so about her situation than at Ellie which kept Ellie at least a little calm for now.

"Not to mention, law enforcement fucking sucks, I don't exactly trust them to catch every single member."

Mona's eyebrows furrowed and her lips were set in a displeased line, the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth prominent with her scowling. Ellie found herself missing it.

"I know, I know you're not their biggest fan and I know what I'm asking of you-"

"NO!" Mona slammed her palm against the table, not loud enough to attract unwanted attention but that didn't stop Ellie from jumping in her seat at her sudden outburst. "I don't think you realise exactly what you're asking me to do, princess," she spat out the nickname venomously and Ellie fought hard not to flinch.

"Mona-"

"Listen, I took a bullet for you, I went to fucking prison for you. You get in touch with me again after all this years only to ask me to die for you." Mona paused and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Ellie watched in silence for a moment, her heart beating a mile a minute in realisation.

"You're right, I didn't think of it like that, I'm sorry." Mona snorted but Ellie continued. "But that's not the only reason I wanted to get in touch with you, I promise."

Mona opened her eyes and looked at Ellie. Ellie could sense she was trying to read her expression, decide if she was being sincere. She was.

It was quiet for a moment.

Mona crossed her legs at the knees and leaned forward. Ellie could see the anger in her expression dissipate into subtle smugness. Mona whispered, "What's the other reason then?"

There it was. Ellie knew Mona knew just from the slight pull of her upper lip and the way she was gazing at her with such intent. Over the past 5 years, Ellie had so much she wanted to say to Mona. Far too much to condense into a one sentence answer, but she tried anyway by saying, "I missed you, Mona."

"After all this time, and you still haven't learnt to save yourself." Mona let out a short, soft chuckle and shook her head. She stood up and tugged at the collars of her jacket, fixing it before shoving her hands in her pockets and turning around.

"Where are you going?" Ellie stood up in alarm, dumbfounded by Mona's actions.

Mona turned to face Ellie again, shrugging slightly. "I have to go, I came here on borrowed time."

"Will you consider it? At least?" Ellie was pleading at this point, but mostly because she knew if Mona said no, this would be the last time she saw her. She was very desperate for it to not be.

"I'll find you," Mona said and started to walk away again.

Ellie sighed softly, relieved that she's got Mona's word that she'll at least hear from her. But Ellie couldn't help herself, she had to ask, she had to know.

"Did you miss me?"

Mona stopped and and turned her head to the side to quickly glance at Ellie at the corner of her eye over her shoulder. She faced head on again and exhaled, as if the question itself exhausted her.

"I haven't learnt either. If I did, I wouldn't be here."

Mona walked away and left Ellie standing there speechless, mind and heart racing.

~~TIME CUT~~

Ellie looked around cautiously as she walked down the dingy back alley. Only a singular, dim streetlamp illuminated the street. Every small sound or movement caused Ellie to whip her head around in it's direction.

Leave it to Mona to pick the most unsavoury, suspicious place at the darkest hour of the night to want to meet up.

All of a sudden, she spotted a car headed in her direction. The headlights so bright, it temporarily blinded Ellie. She would've ran if she didn't catch a glimpse of the familiar purple of the car in the midst of being rendered sightless.

The car stopped right beside her and the door popped open to reveal Mona looking expectedly at her.

"Well, c'mon, get in."

"Mona! You still have your car?"

She rolled her eyes. "Questions later, get in now."

Ellie silently obeyed. As soon as she slammed the door shut, Mona sped off, leaving Ellie clumsily grabbling for her seatbelt. She managed to click it into place before turning to Mona who had a smirk on her face.

Mona looked at ease as always behind the wheel. Leaned back in her seat with one hand on the steering and the other on the shift stick, Mona was definitely in her element. And definitely looked hotter driving than Ellie remembered.

"Not used to the speed anymore, princess?"

"It's been a while," Ellie reminded and looked out the passenger's window, watching the buildings whip past them. "Some things never change though."

Mona drove in silence, not even humming along to the hip-hop music she had playing on the radio. Ellie cleared her throat and decided to speak up. "So, are you accepting the offer?"

"We'll talk later." Mona looked at Ellie briefly before averting her eyes back on the road.

Ellie looked around outside, roughly recognising their surroundings but not exactly being able to place her finger on it.

"Mona, where are we going?"

"You don't remember?" Mona quirked an eyebrow at her as they pull into an open area where a bunch of cars were parked. A video was projected onto a huge display screen right at the front. Ellie's eyes lit up in realisation.

"The drive-in theatre! The one we came to with Mercy Park Crew!"

"The one and only," Mona confirmed as she put her car into park and pulled the hand break up. "Literally."

She pulled the lever of her chair and leaned so far back, she was almost laying down. She raised both hands behind her head and stared at the projection in front of them.

Bewildered at Mona, Ellie's brows furrowed in confusion as she looked at her. "What are you doing? What are we doing?"

"We're watching a movie, duh," Mona replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mona was being difficult, Ellie had enough experience with her to at least know that. And lucky for her, she also had enough experience to know how to annoy Mona into talking.

Mustering up the most gushy and enthusiastic voice she could, she said, "Aww, Monaaaa!" Ellie grabbed Mona's knee and Mona looked at her, with both brows raised, clearly confused and maybe even looking a little weirded out by her sudden change in tone. "If you wanted to take me on a date you could've just said so!"

"Pft! A date?" Mona sputtered, taken aback. "You wish, princess."

"What is it then? Are you feeling sentimental?" Ellie cooed and Mona lightly slapped her hand away, the one that was on her knee.

"Hah! Definitely not."

"It's okay if you are, it's actually so cute of you."

Mona gasped and sat up straight as if it was the most offensive thing to mankind.

"I am not cute," she glared at Ellie and Ellie fought hard to hide her bubbling laughter.

"Then what is it?"

"Fine!" Mona threw her hands up in defeat. "I just wanted to relax before we got down to business but since this is so much more stressful let's just talk now." Mona leaned back against her seat and motioned Ellie to copy her seat position.

Ellie smiled to herself as she adjusted her seat lever. "Why are we leaning back?"

"'Cuz it's less suspicious. Also it's more comfortable."

"So," Ellie turned to face Mona. "Why are we here?"

"Because, we needed a private place to talk in public at 9 p.m. and this was what I thought of. They have eyes and ears everywhere, this is the safest bet." Mona looked at Ellie. "I need to know the exact terms of this agreement before I give my answer."

"Yes, yes, of course," Ellie replied eagerly, hopefully that Mona was considering the offer.

"I will be exempted for all my crimes, correct?"

"Yes."

"And my record will be a clean slate?"

Ellie nodded.

"The leak must be anonymous, the gang won't know the mole was me. And I don't want the FBI to be tailing my every move either."

"Okay, that can be done."

"While working with them, I want the FBI's word that I'm under their protection and I get full immunity. I know it'll get messy. I need all of it in writing."

Ellie saw a flicker of emotions pass Mona's face. They both knew how dangerous this proposition was for Mona. Ellie gentle placed her hand on Mona's thigh and Mona stiffen at the soft contact, not daring to even look at it.

"I'll be with you the whole way, Mona. I promise, I-"

"Don't," Mona interrupted, sounding pained almost. "How many times must I tell you. We don't do promises, we don't do loyalty. It's each man for themselves, if you need to run, you run."

Ellie was quiet, letting out a shaky breath and squeezing Mona's thigh. Mona finally looked down at the contact and winced as if she was hurt, as if she could tell what Ellie was going to say next.

"And yet, you're still here."

Mona stared deep into Ellie's eyes, her gaze so intense it was hypnotising.

"I'll do it," Mona said softly. "I'm in."

Relief washed over her. Ellie smiled a little a nodded. As she did, a strand of hair came loose and fell in her face. As if on reflex, Mona's hand came up to brush the hair away, tucking it behind Ellie's ear. The gentle touch of Mona's fingers against her face made her sigh in contentment. Ellie had missed Mona's touch so much, she thought she could cry. It felt like an oasis after years of being parched.

Ellie thought Mona would pull her hand away, but she didn't. Instead, she let it rest on Ellie's cheek. Mona's warm hand cupped Ellie's cheek and Ellie leaned into it. She closed her eyes, reveling in the comfort and familiarity of it after 5 years. She moved her hand that was resting on Mona's thigh up her wrist, holding Mona's hand there, afraid Mona will move, afraid of missing the contact. But she didn't move. Instead, she whispered her name.

"Ellie."

Ellie's name coming out of Mona's mouth sounded so intimate, so precious. Ellie opened her eyes and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mona staring back at her. She had never seen Mona look at her like that before. She looked soft, conflicted, as if she was fighting back. Ellie's lips parted and she noticed Mona's gaze look down at her mouth.

"Mona."

Ellie breathe her name out slowly, a praise, a hope, a gift. Silently wishing Mona would do what she'd been dreaming of for the past half decade. She was so close to getting what she wanted- no, what she needed. The touch, the gaze, the shallow breathes, it was all too much to handle. Ellie was ready to burst out of her skin, it was all too overwhelming.

"Fuck," Mona cursed, her resolve crumbling. She leaned into Ellie while pulling her closer as well. Their lips met halfway in a gasp and Ellie arms immediately wrapped around Mona's neck, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the nape of her neck. Mona moved her free arm around Ellie's waist and securely held her close.

Ellie could help but whimper at how good it felt to be in Mona's arms again, to be kissing her and holding her and savouring her. She had waited years to be able to do this again and it was beyond what she had hoped. She had forgotten how good Mona felt, she almost laughed at how she ever wondered why no one else could make her feel even a fraction of what Mona did. How could they when Mona made her feel like this.

Their lips moved in tandem and their grips on each other tightened. Even though Ellie had been waiting for so long for this, it was hard to believe any time had even passed between them with how in sync they were with each other.

Mona moaned softly into Ellie's mouth when she grabbed Mona's hair in her fist. Mona reluctantly pulled away and rested her forehead against Ellie's. Their hold on each other never ceasing as they tried to catch their breath.

Ellie felt delirious, she thought she would ascend at any moment. Mona softly brushed her thumb against her cheek. Ellie hummed softly at the touch and turned just the slightest bit to kiss the palm of Mona's hand. Mona sighed.

"I can't believe I'm still here."

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

relinquish the crown outtake: at first sight

Masterlist

Summary: Loki has returned to Asgard after a journey all across the Nine Realms, taking a quiet walk along the palace grounds, when he's mistaken for an intruder. And he sees you for the first time.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings (trust me you need these): themes of incest (he's adopted but still), mentions of blades, mild cussing [let me know if i missed anything and i will update immediately]

It was well after dark when Loki arrived back in Asgard, returning from a rather lengthy discussion on the conditions of their realm's peace treaty with Jotunheim. Well, truthfully, returning from nine centuries of conversing amongst the dwellers of the Nine Realms to gather consensus regarding Odin's rule.

Weak, he thought derisively. How dare they think my father weak simply because he chose to wed for love. He concluded that he simply did not know what it was like to be in Odin's shoes at the time. To be told that he was to marry within his own bloodline, as was tradition, and then to meet the love of his life?

Had he been in his father's predicament, he would have moved the realms and Valhalla themselves to be able to wed the woman he loved. If he were to ever be fortunate enough to actually find her.

He roamed seemingly aimlessly towards the palace gardens, undoubtedly his favorite place on palace grounds. The scent of all the flowers surrounding him was something he'd always associated with his mother and her comforting warmth. He was almost beside himself not to have his arrival announced right this minute, but he remained respectful of their hours of slumber, mindful of the time of day and the shroud of darkness that blanketed the Asgardian sky.

No. Tonight he would move in silence. In clandestinity. As he once did in his younger years, back when he was not even a man grown. Perhaps he viewed this as a challenge to himself as well, to see if he was able to slip past this new generation of palace guards undetected.

As he suspected, of course he was. And he almost made it to the final hall that led to the gardens before he felt someone pull his shoulder back sharply and poise a dagger to his throat.

What in the Nine Realms?

"Well well, what do we have here?" a sultry voice seethed in his ear. A woman? The palace stationed women as night guards now? How much had changed since he was gone? And trained them with daggers, too. "Give me a reason not to end you where you stand, intruder."

He quickly twisted himself out of the guard's hold and faced her in a fighting stance. "You'll have to try a bit harder if you want to end me." He took a look at her, fleeting but just enough to be taken aback by her eyes. The fiercest, most piercing eyes he'd ever met. The rest of her face was covered in a leather mask set in peacock blue, a match to the hooded cloak that covered her head.

"I haven't even begun to try," she spat out and lunged towards him. He deflected her blows with considerable effort. She was nimble, moving with a preciseness that could only come from at least a decade of practice, and strong. This was no guard. This was a warrior.

They were matched in every swing of their dagger, every sidestep, every deflection. All until she had effectively lured him to a corner and pinned him to the wall, her arm pressed firmly on his collarbone. "Do you yield, intruder?"

"Never," he hissed as his hand reached up and pushed her away by the bottom half of her face. Her steps faltered back and his grip had effectively dislodged the mask from her face.

She kept her face turned away from him and he watched in awe as she took her two daggers and joined them by the handle, her weapon now resembling Sif's. And with a flip of her hair, she faced him again.

And Loki got his first look at you. Norns, she's breathtaking, he thought to himself. The beauty of a goddess, the strength and agility of a warrior, a voice that could lead him straight to Hel without him putting up much of a fight.

A woman after my own heart. Perhaps he'd finally been fortunate and met the woman that he would move the Realms for.

You lunged towards him again, your blade ready to cut him at the jugular, but then he put his hands up as he sank to his knees, hiding his daggers back into his pocket dimension, and announced, "Alright I yield!"

You stopped mere inches away from his face and disarmed yourself, separating your blade back into two and sheathing them into the holsters you kept at your sides. "State your name," you commanded.

"I am Loki, Son of King Odin and Queen Frigga."

You immediately righted your stance, a small smile of familiarity gracing your face. Making him break out into a smile of his own. The feats he would perform, the trials he would endure, just to see that smile for the rest of his days. "Many apologies, your highness." You extended your hand to him. "I am Lady Y/N. Daughter of Lady Sif--"

Sif had a daughter now? he thought to himself. I must remember to commend her for having raised such a remarkable woman. Perhaps if I stay on her good graces she'd even allow me to court this Lady Y/N.

"--and Prince Thor."

He felt his world freeze over, his heart plummet to the ground. "My brother--?"

"Yes," you answered, the fond smile never leaving your face. He reached for your hand and you helped him back to his feet and right himself. "My father will be ecstatic to know you've returned."

You already started on your way down the hall when you felt Loki wrap his hand around your arm. "Erm…perhaps we could delay that announcement until the morning breaks. I'd much rather just return to my chambers after our little…altercation. Catch my breath. Rest. And…breathe." In truth, he didn't lose his breath from his fight with you.

He was struggling to breathe because despite already knowing who you were, all he could think about was how otherworldly you looked in the moonlight.

How your lips would feel moving against his in a kiss of pure decadence as he weaved his fingers through your hair.

How it would feel to hold you in his arms in a lover's embrace.

What a future would look like coming home to you, being the one man in the Nine Realms fortunate enough to be the one to take you to bed--

Stop it, he scolded himself. She is not yours. She cannot be yours. She is family. She's Thor's daughter for fuck's sake, he cursed at himself. Fully knowing that despite all that he would still think about exactly those lurid images the moment his chamber doors closed behind him.

Your giggle brought him out of his reverie and he brought his attention back to you. The rendition that stood living and breathing in front of him, not the image that will forever reside in his head that he could worship clandestinely. "Very well then," you spoke. "Guards."

Two palace guards walked to her and stood at attention. "Princess Y/N. Prince Loki." They looked to him with a touch of fear, while they looked to you with fondness, perhaps with the slightest touch of caution.

"Kindly escort Prince Loki to his chambers. Quietly. He does not wish to announce his arrival until the morning," you instructed with a playful gleam in your eye. You slipped your arm out of his hold and began to walk away down another call…perhaps towards the armory…or perhaps towards the library.

"Are you not to retire to your chambers yet, Princess?" one of the guards called out.

You turned around and proceeded to walk backwards down the hall, facing Loki and the guards. "The night is still young," your voice echoed through the hall. Then you turned back around and walked away from them, disappearing from the raven-haired god's view.

"It is both a blessing and a shame you only met her now, Your Highness," the palace guard addressed Loki.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Princess Y/N was quite the troublemaker in her youth. Quite comparable to your reputation, even. I cannot imagine how much more chaos she could have wreaked had she been raised around you."

"In her youth? Isn't she still?" He pleaded to any deity listening that the answer was yes, so that he could rid himself of the lewd inner workings of his mind.

"No, Your Highness. She was born 200 years after you'd left on your journey across the Nine Realms. She's been a woman grown for quite a while." They arrived at his chamber doors and bowed in his direction.

He took notice of the flowers adorning the doors to the chambers across from his. "Guards? Whose chambers are those? They were empty when I lived here last."

He suppressed a groan as they answered, "Your niece's. Princess Y/N."

Never call her that in my presence, he wanted to snap at them. The word felt like the frosty winds of Jotunheim all across his body, injecting hateful reason into his inner thoughts.

Not that that ever stopped him from thinking those exact thoughts for the coming decades. Up until you became his wife, and he was able to turn them into reality.

A/N: I told you they'd be back haha. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged in future outtakes of Relinquish the Crown and I'll make a note to only tag you in the stories outside of this "universe".

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @redbluekjw @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms

#loki x reader #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson x reader #loki x female reader

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piglet26 · 6 months

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Rey...A Mary Sue?

When it comes to the Star Wars fanbase.....Disney is the maker of many of their own problems. Disney has blown things out of proportion. They've attacked their own fanbase and then hidden behind that very slander to avoid criticism. They haven't honored the very audience they seek to make a lot of money from, not to mention the franchise. They've bounced around between visions trying to please everyone and then pleased no one.

However, the Star Wars fanbase is also to blame for many of their quarrels, grips and dissatisfactions with the franchise. Oh, you don't like the corporatized Disney sequels? Well I remember you didn't like the prequels which George Lucas actually did them. Disney sequels are too comedic? The movies would've been better if there was less humor? Well the prequels were too whiny, political and serious.

It's not enough that Disney films are more diverse, have a female lead and have more females on the production side..... unless those characters are saying, doing and being portrayed exactly how the fanbase would like.......then Disney is still misogynistic and racist.

Carrie Fisher, The Princess, faced sexism, ageism and body shaming from both Disney and the Star Wars fandom prior to returning for The Force Awakens. Since he passing obviously many people would like to forget about this or flat out bury it.

Carrie Fisher tells British Good Housekeeping that she was pressured to lose more than 35 pounds to reprise Princess Leia in The Force Awakens: “They don’t want to hire all of me — only about three-quarters! Nothing changes, it’s an appearance-driven thing. I’m in a business where the only thing that matters is weight and appearance."

She first donned that golden slave bikini when she was 27. Thirty years later, Carrie Fisher’s back as Leia in “Star Wars,” but apparently some viewers thought she’d look exactly the same. The 59-year-old actor was the unfortunate recipient of a barrage of hateful tweets from critics who felt the need to tell her she’s aged badly in the past three decades. She Tweeted, "Men don't age better than women, they're just allowed to age." Meanwhile, Harrison Ford looked old and Mark Hamill looked liked a drunk.

All of this is to say the question of whether or nor Rey is a Mary Sue isn't a simple one. While Disney LucasFilm didn't develop the character as well as they could have.... the audience largely had double standards. Rey, as a woman, had more work to do to win over an audience already suspicious of the feminization of Star Wars.

Let's address the criticism

Why does Rey seem so skilled?

Rey works for Unkar Plott scavenging. It would make sense she understands engineering and mechanics. She has to understand how things work, which parts are valuable and understand that about multiple forms of machinery. How does she fly? Just fly, not even combat fly. If in her introduction she was shown to be flying commercially maybe people would've let it go, I'm not sure. Luke and Anakin by contrast turn out to be expert pilots who fight in combat..... no one questioned a thing and one of them is a child. When she initially flies the Falcon she does an alright job and in the three sequels films we never see her fly in combat. Finn never learned how to fly!!!! He famously needed a pilot, yet, got a crash course in The Last Jedi enough to fly at the end against the First Order. She speaks droid, but all our protagonist in Star Wars do. Someone has to be able to understand them.

Rey has no flaws and she's so perfect.

No, actually she's not. Rey is extremely vulnerable, lonely and requires validation. She fears she's gonna be an old woman cleaning gear on Jakku, but she doesn't leave. The only character she really relates and connects to.... is the villain. Yes, she's likable and she's suppose to be because she's our protagonist. Who the hell finds fault with either the character or the production team for trying to make their main character likeable?! Other characters are attracted to her. It's important to note that most force users come off as charismatic, magical and attractive.

Does Rey have a personality?

Yes. Many people get held up on the fact that Rey seems to be bubbly and happy despite growing up in isolation in a tough environment. Initially, with Finn, she comes off pretty hostile and untrusting. It was only when she assumed he was resistance (something safe) and he went along with the assumption that she relaxed a bit. She responded with anger at him just grabbing her hand, but when he showed concern for her then she reciprocated. Neither Finn nor Rey have proper social development which explains why they latch onto one another. Not to mention both are outsiders thrown into pivotal roles without much concept on how to deal with those roles.

Rey is also very childlike. It's something Kylo Ren tries to push her out of. She waits around for her family for years. She licks plates and plays with the resistance helmet. She latches onto people. She latches onto Finn once she trust him. She latches onto Han perceiving him as an ideal father figure. When she forms a connection to Kylo Ren she latches onto him. She's loyal to the people and things she cares about. There were things that could have helped Rey become a fuller developed character. Rey can fight but we never learned WHY she learned how to fight. Has she been stolen from a lot? Has she been attacked? Was she trained? Rey was taken at a young age, what schooling did she receive? Did she just learn trade work? In the novels, her character is obviously developed more, but Lord! People really act like any oversight of character development was a feminist statement about perfection. In reality, it was a film trying to balance multiple characters in a 2.5 hour film.

Rey doesn't have any training and yet is so magical with the Force.

Rey is assisted by The Force. Force users can use the force with very little understanding of it or training. Anakin as a 9 year old is just winging it. So there's that. Now the first time she encounters Kylo Ren, she's terrified and running/shooting for her life. When he force freezes her she's helpless. When he puts her to sleep with the force, she has to be rescued by men.

Now this is the most important. Her bond with Kylo Ren is one of the reasons she's able to access more of and learn about the force. "A Force dyad, also known as a dyad in the Force, was when two Force-sensitive beings had a unique Force-bond—that was unbreakable—that made them one in the Force. The power of a dyad was as strong as life itself, with the individuals forming the dyad sharing a connection that spanned across time and space."

They don't play this up enough in the movies. In the novels it's clear that their minds bridge. She's able to access Kylo's mind from understanding how he accessed her mind. Their bond boost both of their strengths in the force. It's important to note that Rey's abilities actually terrify her.

Rey knows more about the Falcon than Han Solo.

She explained that Unkar Plott installed a compressor which Rey was aware of and both Han and Rey agreed put stress on the hyperdrive. After her assistance bypassing the compressor Han is firming in control of The Falcon.

She beat Kylo Ren at the end of the Force Awakens despite never holding a light saber.

Well, I agree with this one. Kylo Ren wasn't trying to kill her. He was sparring with him and testing her talents. If he wanted to kill her, there was a convenient cliff he could've pushed her over. He wants to train her and he wants her.

Daisy Ridley is a talented and charismatic actress.... she just isn't recognized for it. The fandom looks for flaws, weaknesses and reasons to complain. I don't want to take away anything from the males in Star Wars. I want them to be great. Honestly A Song of Fire and Ice is how I'd like to see more men and women written. Some are good, some are bad, some are great, some are horrific and all are flawed.

#star wars #rey skywalker #rey star wars #ben solo #reylo #kylo x rey #ben solo deserved better #finn star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #carrie fisher #disney star wars #rey nobody #rey palpatine

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plethomacademia · 6 months

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wip

Got tagged by @secondsundering to share a WIP. Please consider yourself tagged if you want, everyone I would tag I think has been?

I don't think I have shared this yet. This is the beginning of the balcony scene in my ball room fic, second chapter, the one where Maeve crashes Gort's party and then he eats her out on a balcony while trying to convince her to *checks notes* betray her life's mission and join him on a throne, normal.

I think this needs a clean up but I think its staying. This is the beginning of the end for them, they are starting to get obsessed and entangled and soon its going to come crashing down, but man, at least they have fun while it happens? Duet is here, chapter one is already up

Jump is for length:

She begins to walk towards him, her hand extended ahead of her. Their fingers meet, then their palms, then her hand is in his and he pulls her that last bit of distance, forces her to stumble against him. His other hand goes to her waist, his palm flat against the fabric and it is still cool to the touch somehow, even though he can feel the structure of her corset underneath, even though he can feel the heat of her as he brings his mouth down on hers. They let go of their hands and grab hold of each other. Both of hers go around his neck and he feels her pull him down. He does not stop himself, he puts the hand that had held hers right into her hair and shoves his fingers deep into the constrained mass of it. He feels her pins resisting, at least one clattering to the stone that they stand on, and he feels her suck in a breath, suck in his lip. He takes more, fists more of her hair in his grip until he hears more pins fall, a satisfying ting, ting, ting all around his feet. She pulls away enough say against his lips, “You are undoing me, Enver,” and he puts the words in his mouth where they belong, tastes them on his tongue. What had they been doing these past two years but undoing one another? This was a party to help his ascension, a celebration of all the work he has put in these past two years -- no, these past decades, his entire gods damned life and he is throwing it all away just to have a taste of her. Foolishness, utter foolishness. He has had this woman so frequently in every way he could imagine. He has fucked her on desks, he has fucked her in beds. He has fought alongside her, he has spoken to her in whispers. He has argued with her every damned day and he has challenged her and she has challenged him in turn. She has listened to him and has questioned him and pushed him and made him better, made him worse, she has known him. They were terrible together and they were going to own first this city and then the entire fucking world.

#wip #regency durgetash

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sasukimimochi · 1 year

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Chapter 1, Promise

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (You are here). Part 5

Chapter 2, You Are My Home (Coming soon...)

To see warnings, go to part 1. No warnings for this part.

Mood song for Part 4

Ch 1, Part 4:

· ✦ A Century of Silence ✦ ·

Lan Wangji opened his eyes.

This place, heaven, had been his home for the past few decades. All he knew was this place, despite the emptiness that came from not knowing where he came from.

The god had assured him when he felt vulnerable and lost, and now, he was one of if not the strongest angels in her fleet. He was successful and needed…but he still felt off. wrong.

He knew that trying to remember his time on earth was discouraged as that was the whole point of his memory charm, but the pull was extraordinary for something he couldn’t remember. He sighed and stared out at the clouds, as if the longer he looked, the more likely someone would be to appear from the clouds to steal away this void in his chest.

“Your memories are being suppressed because they will bring you turmoil and vulnerability. However, I will remove the seal one day under the right conditions.” Baoshan Sanren gave him a sympathetic pat, “For now, darling, live like this. You have many years, we will fix things.”

He looked conflicted, but nodded. If she was already doing all in her power, there was no use complaining. Her spell was to help him stay happy after all, even if it did feel wrong.

“Lan Wangji! You’re here!” A feminine, familiar voice drew his attention away from the clouds. “You look well! We just arrived.” Jiang Yanli smiled, holding her hands together. Jiang Cheng walked alongside her, a bit more clumsy with his new wings than his sister. “Is A-Xian with you? It’s been so long!”

The man moved his gaze between the two, settling on the young woman though after taking a moment to reflect on the question, something akin to confusion flickering in his eyes. “Have we met before?”

While his sister was frozen in place, Jiang Cheng was instantly gripping the angel’s lapels. “What do you mean have we met?!” As if bottling anger for decades, it spewed from his mouth like poison. “You didn't say that to my shixiong did you?! He died in such a pitiful way and you didn’t even reunite here?! Are you telling me you…you-?!”

“Enough.” Lan Wangji frowned and pulled the other’s hands away from his lapels, stopping the man's angry rambling. “I have a memory charm sealing memories I carried here from earth. If we were companions there, I don’t remember.” Though, he’s not sure how he would have ever tolerated someone so angry like this.

A memory charm? Jiang Cheng froze too now, irises shaking. “Wait…I…If your memory has been sealed…He’s not here?”

“A-Cheng…let’s all calm down.” Jiang Yanli gently touched her brother’s arm, wanting to help him calm down and get information at the same time. “W-wangji, i’m sorry, this must be a lot for you. Do you know an angel named Wei Wuxian? Courtesy Wei Ying?”

The angel looked conflicted for a moment, the most expression he’d shown since they’d run into each other now, but he shook his head eventually. “There is no angel here that goes by that name. But maybe I missed him,” He adds, “Let’s ask Baoshan Sanren. She will know.”

· ✦ ·

The two siblings looked at each other and then the god, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“Baoshan Sanren.” Jiang Yanli stepped forward, swallowing softly. “What do you mean, A-Xian is not here? He died months after…” He glanced at the guard standing by the god’s side, the jade droplet hanging from the center of his ribbon glimmering in response. “...you know.”

The god frowned and slowly rose from her throne, flipping her sleeves and walking gracefully down the steps. “So this confirms it.”

Jiang Yanli stepped a bit closer, feathers fluffing up like a nervous bird. “Confirms-?”

“Wangji.”

The jade straightened, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Gather a team of angels. You’ll need a tracker…” She held out a hand, which shifted into pinks and golds like sunset on the ocean, glowing with fractals as she lightly touched the jade bead hanging from his forehead. “Your memory is not safe to be released yet, but I have triggered something that should allow it to weaken in the correct circumstances.”

“What does this mean?” Jiang Yanli asked quietly, holding her hands together nervously. “A-Xian…do you know where he was supposed to reincarnate?”

“Here.” Baoshan Sanren held her arms behind her back politely, but her eyes betrayed her concern. “That means for many decades now he has been missing. I didn’t have a way to confirm it though because you’re the first of his family to arrive.”

“But…What about A-Xian’s parents?”

The god shook her head. “They have left the reincarnation cycle.”

Jiang Cheng’s hands immediately flew to his hair and he closed his eyes tightly. “What happened?? How could he have gone missing on the way??” He didn’t know actually what happened during the ascension, he wasn’t awake. Did that mean they didn’t just magically appear there?

Baoshan Sanren gently touched Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, a calm flooding over him like water on a burn. That…felt weird. He relaxed regardless, slowly releasing his hair and opening his eyes again. “My…my shixiong, where could he be?”

“The most likely possibilities are not good ones. But I have connections.” She smiled, only letting go of Jiang Cheng’s shoulder once he seemed much better. “Wangji is highly trained and I trust he can find him, but I will be getting into contact with those.”

Of course, she left out telling them about the possibility of him being taken into hell, despite the likelihood. If he had become a demon, there was no reversing it, but it was better than him being captured by other groups. if he was captured by demons, there was a much higher likelihood he was alive.

“For now, we will hope for the best.”

Lan Wangji brought his hands together in a salute, and left the throne room quickly to do as instructed.

See other COI/MDZS content here on my masterpost. ❤Art for the banner is here.

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callofthxvoid · 16 days

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WHO: Julie Davenport and Xander Garcia

SUMMARY: It's the millionth time Xander has to tell someone about Minnie.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of death

XANDER was pushing the stroller, grateful again that he and Lia had managed to find and repair one big enough for all three of their kids. "Luna is out cold, I swear he spends more time sleeping than-" he cut himself off while talking to Karma frozen as he stared at a blonde. For almost months after Halloween he had nightmares about it, saw her outside when the urge was too strong and he needed to see her face again, afraid he'd forget it otherwise. Still seeing her in the day was new and it wasn't until he felt Karma squeeze his arm in confusion that he was now able to jostle himself out of his stupor. Looking closer as she spoke to some man holding…ducks? His brow furrowed but now he could see past the similarities, unable to stop himself before blurting out, "Julie?!"

After their meeting at town hall, JULIE had offered to walk with Zel to the fire station while she figured out where to go next. It had been over a decade since she had been in Huntsville, but the more they saw of it, the more she remembered. She had been in the middle of explaining where she thought the old Davenport house was when she heard someone call her name. Spinning around, it took a couple of seconds for her to find the source of the voice, and a few seconds more to place the face it belonged to. "Xander?" she asked, briefly excusing herself from Zel before slowly stepping closer. As she approached, she watched the woman that he was with squeeze his arm and say something to him before walking ahead with the stroller, leaving the two of them by themselves. "You're… You're here. You're here! And you're a dad? Wait, does that mean my aunt is here too?"

Whoever Julie was with had walked over a bit after she'd rushed over, giving an awkward nod in greeting. XANDER had barely registered him before he mumbled something about seeing her later and he like Karma had left them to their mini reunion. Xander felt a tight smile form on his face letting out laugh, a mix of surprise and genuine relief, "Uh yeah…I'm a dad, triplets if you can believe it." Aunt. The word hit him like a ton of bricks and whatever smile or relief he'd felt at seeing her was squashed. There was always a mix of relief and dread when someone you recognized arrived in town. Swallowing, he couldn't meet her gaze, "I uh…Babs got here not that long after Halloween…Minnie is…Minnie uh…," bringing a hand up to grip his other wrist, thumb rubbing at his arm in anxiety. Why did it always seem to fall on him to relay this? "Minnie passed away on Halloween…there was an earthquake and she saved our friend…but she…she didn't make it….Julie I'm so sorry…." There's guilt in his voice, guilt over grabbing Lia when Minnie had shoved her, guilt over leaving her there even if she's already been gone, guilt over it not having been him.

JULIE was honestly relieved to see Xander. She already felt bad for asking Zel to take a detour into Huntsville in the first place, but she would have felt even worse if she had gotten them both stuck here for who knows how long, and it turned out that the people she was looking for weren't even here. She was surprised but equally relieved to hear that Babs had also made it into town, but any happiness or hopefulness she felt in that moment was quickly extinguished when his next words registered with her. She didn't make it. "She… She didn't make it..?" She felt a hitch in her breath, dropping her gaze to the ground as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, a soft sniffle leaving her before she looked back up. "Wow, well, okay, this feels eeriely familiar," she stated with a short laugh, completely devoid of any humour. "My… My grandparents… Her parents… They told me she passed away years ago. That's why I never came back. I can't believe I missed her by… By six months…"

XANDER felt his jaw clench at the mention of Minnie's parents, "They said that…," there's disbelief mixed with equal parts rage he rarely ever exhibits. It's hard not to feel bitter against them, hard not to blame them even a little for losing Minnie. "It's not your fault…you didn't know," he said softly. Pausing his brow furrowed as he looked at her, "Wait, how did you find out that they weren't telling the truth?"

JULIE felt the anger coming from him, remembered the first time she had ever experienced the same feeling about her grandparents, and how quickly everything in her life had changed after that. "I, uhm," she said, scrambling to pull a folded document out of her pocket and handing it to him. "I was getting my stuff from their place and found this is the safe. I put together the truth myself after that. I… I never confronted them about it, I didn't want to see them, I just came straight here. Or well, I hitchhiked. I don't have a car."

XANDER took the document slowly unfolding it, running his name over Minnie's old legal name. Technically they'd never made it official outside of Huntsville, but that didn't matter now really. She was Minnie and always would be. Glancing up at Julie his brow furrowed again, "You hitchhiked? Jesus…when's the last time you ate something I mean…," he was giving her a brief once over. That knee jerk reaction to check on others kicking in, "Have they filled you in at all about what happened here? Why we weren't ever able to contact you?"

JULIE couldn't imagine what Xander was going through. She only knew what she had been through herself, both the first time she thought that Minnie had died and what she was going through now, but she had barely spent any time with her aunt. Not the way that Xander had. "Yeah, uhm, Zel," she gestured vaguely in the direction that they had gone, "picked me up a while back. They're cool, and I've been fed, I promise. He has family who went missing in this area and offered to take me through Huntsville on the way. But, uhm… Yeah, we've been to town hall, so we know the situation. At least the basics." She grimaced slightly. "I feel bad that they got stuck here because of me."

XANDER shook his head, "It's not your fault, trust me you're not the first group to come looking for someone. Do you know his family's names? I might be able to help track them down if they're still in town," he offered. He was quick to jump to being helpful, his grip on his arm loosening slightly. Hesitating as he met her gaze again, "I um…can I…can I hug you? I am sorry you're trapped here but umm…it's really good to see you Julie," he admitted if a little guilty.

It was subtle, but JULIE did brighten slightly when he asked if he could hug her, nodding her head before wrapping her arms around him. "It's really good to see you too, Xander," she said, holding on to him for a moment before eventually stepping back. "Well, couldn't hurt, could it? Uhm, it's his cousin, his cousin's wife, their children, and the wife's sister. If I'm remembering correctly. Their names are DJ and Dahlia Cruz-Dutton, and, uhm… What was it now… Eva! Eva Cruz."

XANDER pulled Julie close, giving her a tight hug and for a brief second, it felt like he was hugging someone else. He swallowed hard and blinked back any tears, not wanting her to see the effect it had on him. Giving her a small squeeze before letting go and clearing his throat. He was grateful for the topic, something else to focus on as his brow furrowed. A small flush on his cheeks, "This fucking town…," he grumbled slightly exasperated at it all, "Well the good news is I do know them and they are here. He's headed the right way, Dahlia is sure to spot him by the fire station. Um..and me and Eva dated for a year, were still friendly," quick to add the last bit. Even if things hadn't worked out her still valued her friendship and hoped she felt the same. "They have a house but Eva moved into the Commune. I was living there too just moved out for my kids birth," though he and Lia had been talking about when and if moving back was in the cards. Adding Julie now into the mix had him hesitating even more so.

JULIE'S eyes widened and she immediately perked up when Xander confirmed that the Cruz-Duttons were, in fact, here in Huntsville. She supposed that did explain their sudden disappearance. She had felt bad about getting Zel and Ian stuck here, and while she still felt bad about that, at least they would have family. "Oh! Oh, that's great news. I mean, not great, obviously, it's not great that they're stuck here, but it's great that Zel and Ian will get to see them." She cleared her throat and offered him an apologetic smile before chuckling. "That's kind of an insane coincidence though. Like, out of all people who could have picked me up while I was hitchhiking, it's the relatives of someone you dated? That's wild." She looked behind Xander's shoulder, spotting the blonde he had been with pushing the stroller, not quite heading in their direction yet but seemingly slowly making her way there. "So, uhm… If you're normally at the commune, but not right now, then where are you staying? We were offered a place from the town hall but I was kind of waiting to see if…" The implication hung in the air between them. She had been waiting to see if she could stay with Minnie.

XANDER shook his head, "Something about this town…I swear it like draws people back together or something." Following her gaze he caught Karma's and gave her a small smile, motioning for her to rejoin them. "That's Karma," he said glancing back at Julie, "She lives at the Commune too and helps me with the kids, which is way too nice of her." What Julie was asking was clear to him, if it wasn't for the triplets he knew what decision he'd make in a heartbeat. He loved the Commune, still did after everything, and his family was there. He'd considered it when Barb had arrived but with Lia pregnant and his own mourning making decisions had been harder than he wanted to admit to. Still the triplets were here now, they were healthy and now Julie was here. He knew he needed to talk to Lia about what their next steps would be, they'd had a few discussions with Knightley and Zarina over it but nothing concrete. "With some friends, one of them is a doctor and the other is a pharmacist so made sense for me and Lia to move in to have the triplets, you know?" He didn't want to assume Knightley and Zarina would just let him move Julie in, even temporarily, but they'd known Minnie too. "We were headed back, come with? We can catch up and have dinner. Those two are probably gonna end up staying with their family tonight, so you should be with your too."

#interactions: julie #julie: xander

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whimperforme · 1 year

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last goodbye's

Joel Miller x f!Reader

word count: 2,814

Summary: You and Joel take on a life threatening trail outside the QZ, brining the young, ‘immune’ child, Ellie. To the fire flies. On the journey of said trail, you take on a offer of your own begging.. Getting bitten by the infected, wanting to get taken out your own way.. The way of Joel.

Warnings: angst, death, mentions of loss, gore & that’s mainly all.

You'd seen something change in him since he had been assisted to bring the youthful, inexperienced girl, Ellie to get somewhat of a cure for the long lasting outbreak. You weren't so sure the woman who had handed the peculiar kid was being completely honest, seeing the sceptical face on her as she had been given to you and Joel. It made you itch, but seeing somewhat type of pain in the poor man's eyes made you uneasy.

Hours of walking had gotten by before Joel finally admitted he was tired and it was time to settle and rest of the night, setting up a confined, unlikely spotted crash for the night upon. The pair of Ellie and you preparing for a couple hours of needed sleep, unlike Joel. You watched him, propped up with his rifle glued to his left hand. Tightly gripping it, his eyes flickering all over the land, as far as he could spot. You sighed, seeing him so restless, cautious. Knowing Ellie was more than likely asleep by now, you lifted your weary, weighted body up, slumped. You rubbed your eyes.

Soon as he heard the slightest movement Joel shot up, aiming his riffle your way as if he heard a runner, clicker. Whatever those peculiar creatures where these days.. As soon as he spotted it was you he lowered the gun from his shaken, sweated palms. Loosening his grip as he whisper yelled.

"Jesus Christ, almost got ya' self killed! Don't scare me like that." You sighed, shaking your head his way. You retrieved a deadpan glare from him. Shuffling over to where he was slumped against a rather firm, oaked tree. You glared at the man, so curious of what may be running through that brain of us. These past decade's have been hard for him and you knew so. The loss of his daughter, Sarah. The break out, the killing. Thinking of how things have become made you sick, 'how could life have come to this?' Was a frequent question that pops up in your mind once in a while. You sighed once more, coming from the thoughts that had taken you from civilisation. Shaking your head at the elder man ahead once again. You knew something was on his mind.. You just had to get it out of him, Joel wasn't an easy one to crack. He'd usually keep to himself. Not to let his emotions out.

"Something's up with you, Joel. You've been acting off ever since we picked this 'cure' up.. You can talk to me, you know?" You spilled, knowing he wouldn't let you know a thing about the thoughts going through his head.

"Nun's up, go back to sleep. Gotta' keep a look out is all." Is what he spoke before rushing you back to bed, he knew you weren't that easy to shew off. All you wanted is for him to tell you how he was feeling, that's all you need.

"Please.. Tell me those thoughts that are spilling in that elder brain of yours." You tried lightening the foggy intimacy between the two, giving him a genial grin. Joel's expression not changed, still cold. Solid. You understood he was on the look out for the night but you wanted him to feel some what of light in this life time.. You hadn't seen him 'happy' for.. god you couldn't even remember. It had been so long. Too long. "I don't recognize you anymore.. your joy seems faded, Joel.." You whispered, he sat keeping quiet. Not spitting a single word..

You're eye's fluttered, tear's struck upon you. Not letting them flood from there home as you crawled back to the makeshift bed Ellie had helped you put together, getting yourself somewhat comfortable. You stuffed your head in the thin blanket you had kept, chewing on the rim of it. You had failed.. you knew it'd be hard getting anything from him but could you at least of had a enjoyable conversation with him? No. He wouldn't allow it. He'd provide no emotion, It was strictly sight spotting for clicker's knower days. He felt like a stranger.

Living in the apocalypse was fucking horrendous. You wanted it to be over. It stopped anyone from doing various pleasurable things. It was a living HELL. Hopefully Ellie was the cure and the fire flies weren't lying.. You were sure this time.. it would be done, you'd all be free.

Woken up by the hearing of items shifting in there places, pocking your flushed head from the beaten blanket you had curled up in last night. Unknown of when you passed out.. Spotting Joel and Ellie packing up, preparing for another 18 hour hike down to the University of Eastern Colorado where the fire flies camped. You scrubbed your hands on your face, yawns flying from your lips.

"Look who's up!" Ellie sang, coming over to you. She was quite the loud mouth, all though it was oddly comforting. Helping you up, you looked from the girl in front to the man ahead. Joel.. You gave him a quick nod as you were as well rested as you could be, him soon looking away. His focus back onto packing this essentials back to there lost places in his leathered bag that swung on his back. Starting to pack your things as you tried to forget about the silenced tension between you and Joel. He then cleared his throat, significant that it was time to get going.

Soon enough the 3 of you had started your trail, the walking continues. Minutes became hours, hours became days.. Time slowed this past week, the day's feeling repetitive, slow motioned. Your muscles ached. You knew you couldn't stop.. you had to keep on. For Joel, for Ellie. As much as you and Joel weren't in good places the two of you will forever be by each other's side.. You cared about him dearly and he sure as hell felt about you swell. You weren't complete stranger's.. Watching as he takes the crusted map from his now emptied jean pocket's, looking at it. His finger crazed on the thin paper. Joel stopped in his tracks, pointer finger in the air. Guiding the way to go.

"This way!" He called to you and Ellie, making it into another empty, unoccupied town. ..Just like the rest of them. Leading up to looted, forgotten stores. Joel Being cautious, aware of anything that may pounce in the moment. "Go, go loot em'. " He murmured in a low tone, spying out the corners. "Yess." Ellie joyfully spoken, skipping her way from us, to the entrance of one of the dusted, beaten down buildings. Joel shot his view to you, then to Ellie.

"Go on, make sure she don't get up to anythin'." Taking your gaze from Joel to Ellie as he did. Viewing that would stay where she was and wait. Turning your head back to Joel, seeing him as he rose an eyebrow at you. "What are ya' waiting for, love?" He questioned. You breathed out, taking your hand on his as his sight flickered through your placement. "Joel.. I got this, go loot for the golden finds. I'll take look out. I'll-" He cut's you off by shaking his head eagerly. "Uh uh, no. Not happenin'."

You rolled your eyes softly, begging. "I'll be fine. Go on, I'll shout you if I spot a pack." You gave him a flash of a smile. "Promise?" He gripped your hand tight, unsure if the idea would be a goodden. "I promise.." You assured him. Giving you a small yet un noticeable smile back. You watched him strut his way to Ellie had stood there with her arms folded upon one another, giving her a smirk, shaking her head. "Finally, old man!" Ellie joke, Joel snapping back. "Enough, Ellie." Making you let out a chuckle..

You waited for the two to retrieve back with goodies, sighing as you felt the air become suddenly colder. Your boot kicking the sanded floor that stood beneath you. The sound of birds chirping fulfilled your ears. The sound that you had cherished for year's, singing birds.. Wouldn't get a lot of that now day's. You'd think they'd know the world's coming to an end by now. The chirping soon quieted down, being replaced with a quiet sound of scraping floors, light clicks.. You placed your hand on the gun that you had in the back of your jeans. Panic took ahead of any other emotion you had felt before this struck. "Shit." You lowered from the under of your breathe, spotting a ton of runners mixing with a couple clicker's heading your way. Dragging themselves along the floor. Knowing you'd need to get Joel's and Ellie's attention to get the fuck out of there. Without a doubt you pulled your gun from your jeans, beginning to shoot the herd, hoping Joel would've heard the gun shot's. Continuing to shoot at the deformed creatures making there way over in the head, knees, chest. Anywhere to harm the mother fuckers.

The situation soon becoming unbalanced, unfair. More clickers, runners chasing ahead. Becoming with every direction possible. "Joel! Help, needed!" You yell, as you reloaded your pistol.. Using the remaining bullets left. Soon ran out. You panicked, breathe unsteady, unknown what to do. Joel had most of your equipment carried with him. Trying to fight them off with your bare hands. Giving them a kick to the knee, punching them in the side of the head.. Then stomping on said head. You Must have gotten to carried away with killing one, another grabbing you from behind, gripping onto your shoulders. In an attempt to bite. You suffered in fighting it off, soon feeling a sting stick to your hip as they surrounded you.. You yelled in insufferable agony. Your hearing went to a ring, hearing quiet gun shots surround you. Seeing the monsters drop dead as you regained your senses, spotting Joel with a look of worry, disappointment carved into his face. "Back up, Ellie!" You heard the familiar tone yell as you watch him shoot the remaining dead.

You had gotten bit..

Out of breathe, hurt screaming from your left side. Trying to walk it off.. "You okay?!" Joel cautiously ran to you in hopes you'd be fine, cupping the side's of your face in sorrow. You nodded, hiding the fact you had been bitten. You couldn't let him know yet, it'd break Joel. Knowing the losses he's already been through. You gulped as you stared into the man's eyes. He pulled you into a tight hug, scared. Regret fulfilled Joel, knowing he shouldn't have let you done that on your own.. He trusted you with it. He just shouldn't have left you with barley no supplies on you. "I shouldn't have let yo-" You cut him off, pulling away from the grip he held you in. "I'm okay, aren't I? I'm here.." He nodded in relief, letting the panic wash over him, letting him go.

"Remind me to never.. let ya' do that all by ya' lonesome again. Got it?" He stated. "Yes sir.." You breathed out, knowing there wont be a next time.

It had been about a hour since you had gotten bit, the traveling had to continue. Your mind feeling unwary of the things you felt, you knew this was it for you.. You'd soon turn. You knew another hour would destroy you, Joel can't get hurt.. you wouldn't allow it. Knowing if you kept going.. Joel would find out you'd have been bitten, you'd turn. Try n' hurt him. Though, you didn't want to turn. You couldn't, for Joel's and Ellie's safety. Tear's threatened to spill from your eye's, bile risen in your throat as anxiety contented.

You wanted to go out your own way, not as some infected. 'You've gotta' tell him.' Raced through your mind, your finger twitching. Fuck.. Time running out as you strut your way behind Joel and Ellie. Your face now flushed, pale as the dull sky above. Joel carried on the trail whilst Ellie waited behind for you, looking at you with concern. "Woah, are you okay? You look deadly sick dude." She called out breathy, low. You nodded in agreement, suffering with your last time of consciousness on this earth. Feeling sick to your stomach as you took shaken, steps.. Throwing yourself down as you retched, spewed nothing but whitened acid from the lining of your aching stomach. Joel swiftly turned his head your way, the sight of your sickened, infected self coming into his view. His eyebrows in a furrow as he jogged his way over to you, asking if you where feeling alright. Shaking your head no as he gripped your shoulder. Your knees weak, unable to balance your own weight.

Ellie glaring at you as if she knew everything.. Fear plastered all over her face as if she had seen a familiar sight in her passed. She was frozen, unable to move, speak.. "Ellie, turn.. around." Your croaky voice came out, not wanting her to see you in such an ill scene. Ellie obeyed, turning as she gripped her hands on the zip of her jacket. Your gaze now turning to the man in front of you.. Oh Joel.. You looked at him through your thick lashes, your lip quivering. "I'm sorry, Joel. I.. I should've told you. I was just so.. scared." A tear slipped from your eyes, running it's way down your reddened cheek, Joel then wiping said stray tear, shaking his head in denial. "What. what are you tryna' say, love..?" His voice shook, heart thumping in his tightened chest as he stared at you.. So ill, weak. "Please, don't make me spell it out for you." Your words quiet almost inaudible. His eyes watering as he looked at your now uncovered hip, eyeing the unrealistic, goring bite. He began to pant from the fear built inside. "No, no.. you're not.. You're just fine, come on. Stand up.." He whimpers fell from his dry lips. Denial flowing through the man, only making it harder for him to let go. "I want.." You croaked. He bit his bottom lip, hard.. unsure what you wanted, eyes burning.

"I want you to shoot me." You sobbed in acceptance, Joel looked at you with horror. He couldn't shoot the ones he loved for, especially you.. You two had been through thick and thin together, he shook his head no, alarmed of the hurt you felt. "Joel, I'm turning slowly. It's all I want.. I don't want to go out as one of them.. I don't want to feel like a monster." You choked, feeling the anticipation rise. Pulling your empty, unloaded pistol that you could barley hold from the back hem of your mudded jeans. "For me.." He sighed, keeping himself together.. Telling Ellie to cover her poor young ears. She didn't have to hear this, she was a innocent child. A possible life saver.

Joel was now choking out whimpers, cries flooding him as he pulled some unused bullets from his satchel, loading the said pistol. You put your hand on the tip of it, leaning it closer to your sweated, wettened head. "I love you.. I'll be by your side through this. I promise. Don't blame yourself, don't waste meaningless tears on me. You can grieve but.. not for long, please.. Just.. carry on with getting the girl to the fire flies.. Save the rest of us. This is my goodbye, Joel.." You said your final words before nodding in agreement for him to pull the trigger. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breathe, prepared for the other side.. “Goodbye, love..” Is the last thing your senses comprehend before you became lifeless, gone..

Gun shot.

Joel pulled the trigger, flinching as he watched your body fall back onto the concreate. His hand shaking as the now heavy feeling gun dropped to the floor s'well. He fell to his knees, breaking down with sobs. 'What have I done!' his brain shouted at him. Placing his quivering hand on your limpened hand, his grip tight, unsure if he'd ever let go. After his light hearted moment with you he stood tall, glaring at your lifeless body. Feeling a shock in his heart, almost warm.. As if he felt the presence of your angelic soul.. He looked up to the now brightened sky, giving an unrecognisable grin to 'you', the sides of his mouth slightly curved. "Forever." He lowly said to himself before returning to the fearful girl behind him, walking from the memorial scene of you with his hand on the youthful kid's shoulder, guiding her away from it..

He'd knew that he'd have carried you with him, you'd be there when he needed you. He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't felt weak, fragile. Joel knew he needed to carry on the journey of Ellie. For you.

..It was your dying wish..

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #angst #im crying #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #waaaaa

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weonlyneedfour · 7 months

Text

November 1975, Location Unknown

He steps through a clockwork-shaped portal crouching just enough to avoid the light fixture, casting an enormous shadow as he enters. He had opted to not wear boots for the occasion, treading the ground with his paws, sounding near imperceptible to the common ear. As the colossal tiger man quietly and politely entered the cell, his hooded companion walked by his side, announcing their presence with the thuds of a staff on the floor. This man wore a bright, ornate golden mask, pulling the hood over his face to obscure it’s effect.

The woman before them was shorter than expected. She was kneeling by the side of a bed with her head tilted downwards, her features fully obscured by a huge, tangled mess of black hair, that slowly writhed in response to their arrival. Dust had gathered around her knees. It was difficult to tell if she had been holding this position for 3 weeks, or for the 3 decades she had spent locked away here. Her hands were obscured under a metallic box used to handcuff them together. Though he detested the sight of those restraints, the hooded man felt a detestable little tinge of gratitude for them. The reports around her were tangled up in wartime propaganda and folk myth, but sympathetic as they were to her plight, only a fool would approach Anemia without a certain distance or fear.

She did not breathe, and the red stains on her outfit further added to her corpse-like appearance. The hooded man took a deep breath and gripped his walking staff more tightly, while the tiger man, who wore a suit black enough to obscure nearly everything but his snow white head and hands, began to speak in truncated Japanese.

"Forgive us for tresspassing. Your guards won't be distracted forever, we needed to seize our chance. We would like to speak to you."

A twitch. Words came about slowly, without noise. A death rattle remembering how to speak again.

"殺す.....殺す......殺すのか?"

His breath skips a beat, and involuntarily, Tsar Tiger takes a step back. The giant crimelord measures his next words carefully.

"No, we are not here to kill you. I believe, thusly, you won't try to kill us, either. I've journeyed here to plead your help, Anemia."

She twitches, and her hair flares up briefly at the mention of her war moniker, before quieting down. She seems to be recovering senses she hadn’t had much use for in the past decades, and lifts her head without meeting his eyes.

"Are you…a snow leopard?"

Tiger chuckles to try and defuse tension. "Not quite, I happen to be a tiger. I do come from a land of snow. I'm called Tsar Tiger, although my real name is Sevastyan. Not many know of what I'm telling you. This is my associate, Ourochorus. He has brought me here and tutored me in the language of your homeland, so we may speak.”

Another twitch. Her eyes lower, and she whispers in a hollow whistle. "....not….my…..homeland……my home….gone…."

And Tiger drops the façade of joviality. "I, see. I thought these vermin would have at least informed you about the outside world. Japan is not gone. But it is-" "no. my. homeland. the Empire… took my homeland." "The American empire, or the Japanese empire?" "the Empire." "She means the both of them.", Ourochorus chimed in, quietly addressing Tiger in his native Russian. "Speed this up, Tiger. Now isn't the time for poetry. The guardsmen won’t be deceived for long."

"Miss Anemia, I'm truly sorry for how sudden this is. Believe me. We are here because we too know what it's like to lose everything you love, everything you were, everything you could have been, at the hands of the Empire. At the hands of the West. I admire your resilience, and forgive me, but in you, I see a kindred spirit."

Tsar Tiger waits to see if she responds. She stands there unmoving, but although the lower half of her face remains hidden behind that respirator mask, her eyes shift. His words, the recollection of her senses, whatever memories those bring, all seem to stir up sadness within her, and as much as he hates himself for it, Tiger needs to seize the opportunity.

"They’ve robbed unforgivable things from me, as well. I'd heard of your power, what you'd done to those uniformed pigs. The massacre of men who deserved it a thousand fold. The statement you made. Ghastly as that affair may have been, we can no longer shy away from brutality."

"....you intend to use me…"

"No! No, heavens no, I’d gut anyone who tried. I intend for us to work together. If you want, we will break you out of here right now, and you will never have to see us again if you wish. But we can make them pay, Anemia. We can make them pay with more than their filthy maggot lives. We can make it so they never hurt anyone ever again."

".......you cannot..."

"We will. We have gathered people across the world. Strong men and women, victims of tragedies like ours. We stand not for our countries, but for the lives of our people, against the enemy of all mankind. The men that stopped you, that let it happen, that locked you away? There are countless like them now. They encircle and protect the West like hyenas defending a carcass. I have amassed power over decades to resist them. But only together, we can stop them."

"...you intend… to build an Empire atop their bodies..."

Ourochorus closes his eyes and looks away, already able to tell the exact moment Tsar Tiger made this a wasted journey.

"It, is the only way to defeat the empire, to make sure it never grows again. We must raise something on top of it. Only as brothers in arms, we may survive."

“we are not brothers.”

“Pardon me?”

She abruptly stands, leaning backwards to extend her lumbar. Four loud pops and a painful crack sounded off from within her body, as she moves to sit on the bed, calmly looking at the tiger man twice her size before her. Her sharp eyes at last meet Tiger’s own, and she speaks with a different, less sephulcral voice, and much greater clarity.

"....we. are not. Brothers. I take that word as poison, coming from a stranger. I will not have it. And what you tell me, I cannot be a part of it." "They have already made you a part of this." Ourochorus attempts to interject, tugging at his companion's arm. “Tiger, let’s go. This was a wasted effort.” The woman continues. "And my part is finished. So far, it ended in failure. You know this, and you plan to fail as I have." "Anemia, please. You failed merely because you were alone, against an entire American team. I don't mean to offend, but look at what they've done to you. They…" He stops to catch his breath, and his next sentence comes out as a choked, hateful growl, hissing through his teeth. "They killed my son. They kill us, they cage and abuse our people, make monsters out of us, and they will never stop until we make them, until we destroy them. You know this." "I do. I know I am a monster. You, are not there yet. You are a thug. A thug with flowers on the tongue and hate in your eyes. You are not honest with yourself. You cannot be honest with me."

Tsar Tiger stands straight, his head almost brushing across the ceiling. The giant predator snarls with contempt dripping from his fangs. Anemia is not impressed. "And who are you to think you know me? You ungrateful, ignorant coward. You think I came all this way because we need you?" "Tiger, we have to go. Now." "Is this it? Do you know what they've done to your precious country since then? We offer you a chance to stop turning your back on your people, and you reject it? You plan to die in American chains as penance? Are you that afraid of yourself? You disgusting coward!"

Tsar Tiger curses with baritone roars, uneven, unsteady, lost within rage, and a bitter sense of betrayal is painted starkly on his features. At last, he is fully honest with her, and she sees enough to almost pity him. Worse, she is forced to privately concede a point to him.

"My people were killed, Sevastyan. I cannot die, and as I sense it, neither can you. Neither of us will be seeing our loved ones soon. I see you, and you are me. I know the hatred that’s poisoned you. And so do they. If they haven't already, they will make an example out of you, as they did with me. And they'll make an example out of your people in turn. And you know this already. I presume it has happened to you before, and you think you are either too powerful to let it happen again, or that you have nothing more to lose now. For your sake, I hope at least one of these is correct.”

"....."

"Make no mistake, I will get out of here. But I do not intend to repeat my mistakes once I do. Cowardly as I may be, I will not be a mere cautionary tale again. We can, and must, do better."

The time limit for their departure was drawing to an end, and Ourochorus opened another portal where the prior one stood. It seemed that, unless they planned to join her in this cell and sleep on the floor until the Americans decided otherwise, he and Tsar Tiger would have to carry on Anemia’s debate without her.

Tsar Tiger and Anemia might have been able to live forever, where as Ourochorus...well, a hundred and forty years had done enough damage to his knees as is. More so than being captured, the prospect of sleeping in the floor was most unwelcome to him.

"So be it. I, apologize, for my rudeness. It seems my time and efforts were misplaced."

"They are, but not where you think. Don’t concern yourself with me. I will live to see them fall. I merely warn you to be patient."

“For what?”

“So I might save you a seat, if you get to the end with me.”

#we only need four #weon4 #hero forge #supervillain #tsar tiger #ourochorus #anemia #dr kirigami

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themostleastuseful · 1 year

Text

A Review of a Thing

Greetings denizens of the incomprehensible abyss known as the internet, I am a random nobody who criticizes the art of people far more talented than I will ever be. This is the first time I have done anything remotely like this, so do not be surprised if you find it lacking. I know I sure do. Anyhoo, today I will be talking about a horror movie that wants to be a poem so badly that it forgot to have a point.

How do I describe I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House? Boring is too simple a word for how little I cared about anything that happened in this movie. Maybe colorless, or would that be too obvious? When the most interesting thing in a multimillion dollar film is a mold stain, money has not been spent well. It is styled as a gothic horror in the tradition of The Fall of the House of Usher and other Edgar Allen Poe works, but Poe it is not. His stories had themes more interesting than “death is kind of scary, right?”

The movie is about a woman named Lily who is hired to work as a live-in nurse for an old horror novelist (named Iris Blum) with dementia. A simple setup with potential for interesting payoffs. Are there going to be nightmarish creatures spawned from the mind of a creative individual slowly losing their grip on reality? Is the nurse on the run from a past she can never truly escape? Will the main character ever go outside? All of these questions, and more, will be immediately answered no because there isn’t enough time between all the shots of walls.

The plot goes thusly: The nurse shows up, Iris mistakes her for the ghost she’d been talking to for inspiration, Lily reads the book based on Polly (the ghost)’s story and figures out that it had actually happened in the house, then sees Polly in person and dies of a heart attack. Iris dies too because there was nobody left to care for her, then the last ten minutes are Lily monologuing about how dead she is.

Lily is one of the main problems I have with the movie. For starters, she talks like a grandma with an odd cadence reminiscent of someone telling a bedtime story. It kind of works for her monologues (though the language is so flowery it makes me want to sneeze) but she even does it when talking to her friend, who she calls a slut the way you might call a puppy silly. I am aware that the actress is British, but then why make her do an American accent?

Lily is a mix of childish and extremely odd that might make sense if she were supposed to be mentally handicapped in some way, but there is absolutely no indication that she is. Not to say it would be a bad thing, I’m autistic myself. It’s just that, if you’re going to make such a character, you’re going to need to establish or at least hint at it at some point.

There is a ghost, but we never really find out much about her or her motives. It seems like she wants to show the world what her ultimate fate was, but then she goes and makes Lily hallucinate that there’s mold growing on her arms (the only remotely interesting scene in the movie, by the way.) What’s that for? If she just wants vengeance on the living, why does she tolerate the writer living in her house for decades? Why was she murdered anyway? What’s the significance of her walking around with her upper half on backwards?

While I complain, the movie does manage to set an atmosphere of doom. The house feels empty and dark even during the day, and the music sets you on edge when it’s supposed to. The problem is, though, that the movie barely does anything with it. building tension without adequate release leaves viewers feeling stressed. A movie that has you feeling worse than when you started is not one you want to see again. Anyway, more complaining.

Like I said before, there is a foundation for something good buried within the snores. The movie has themes of aging and decay, with Iris being shown to have once been quite attractive, but time has taken her mind and body. Very gothic horror, but none of it feels like it was used to its proper potential. It should have focused more on the author and her futile struggle against time, with the house visibly deteriorating as a reflection of it. Maybe the ghost could change too, slowly becoming more corpselike until it disappears and the actual body busts out of its hole to do some spooking. As it is, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House bats the idea of beauty being transient around like a cat with a toy but never goes in for the kill. (The two central characters are named after flowers ooo so deep)

#movie review #film #spoilers #i am the pretty thing that lives in the house #horror #gothic horror

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legiomiam · 1 year

Text

FIND THE WORD

Tagged by @awritingcaitlin my words are: bad, hour, breathe, chance, neck, thought, move, because, center, past

(Thought and Move are one scene but it was too good to not share)

I tag: @e-s-willswriting, @saphoblin, @sentfromwolves, @baroquesse and @awritingcaitlin

And your words are: Treasure, shift, yawn, object

☙❦❧

BAD

The handle on the door squeaked as bright green hair poked around the frame, the little boy’s goat like eyes danced around the room.

“Is it story time, Orinette?” Little hands raised into fists, at Brahm. “Soon I’ll be able to take you.”

“I believe you may be able to in a few weeks, train hard and when I get back we’ll see who’s the stronger of the two.” He patted the top of the small boy’s hair and looked back at his mother.

Orinette. The term the matriarch of Hunters was given from anyone in the tribe that thought of her as a teacher, an elder of sorts. A term that the Chief had allowed, the one thing that his mother had wanted from the tribe she had been born in.

He never asked, didn’t want to bring up bad memories in how her human body was chosen to host her God like essence. There was no point in him knowing, he thought. The door behind him clicked shut as he pulled it as he went, heads bent when he passed.

“Well, look at you.” A smile with a missing tooth on the side was flashed, “hunting trip so soon? Chandra isn’t going is she?” Fear flashed across the young woman’s face.

“No, Baba has grounded her to missions around the compound for a while.” He sighed, Brahm shook his head remembering how he had waited in Tregford for two weeks for his sister. How when she had finally appeared looking dirtier than what should have been normal for this hunting trip. He remembered the ire of their parents when she relayed all that she had seen, the Dance of Garnets, a sacrifice of Fae for an incorrectly remembered event.

“Good, I never want to worry about her like that again.”

He cupped her cheek and she smiled, “you know I love you, Florence. Now, Mama is starting story time if you’d like to go listen.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” She hugged him and headed down the hall, a smile broke across his face when Chandra also rounded the opposite corner with a small group of children. His sister gave the other woman a soft smile as she held the door open for the children, bending to kiss Florence as she walked into the room.

He never thought his parents would have been so open to the relationship his sister had chosen for herself, but it had been a handful of decades now and she was an irreplaceable cog in the machine that made up their family, their clan, their tribe.

☙❦❧

HOUR

“You think too loud.”

“Normally, I only have to worry about my mother being inside my head. She lets me have my privacy even if I push out too much. Is it a normal thing? Can we all read minds?” Panic started to grip her if she could read minds, if Varyn could read minds then that meant that he could read minds.

“Don’t worry, what is it your mother calls you ‘Little Autumn Beetle’?”

“Don’t, that is their endearment for me, and only theirs. And it’s just Autumn Beetle, sometimes I’m stubborn Autumn Beetle.” A hearty laugh from behind her has her chuckle too.

“Ah, she’s got jokes ladies and gentlemen of the forest. But, no not everyone can read minds, just your grandmother’s bloodline I am assuming, unless your grandfather was—”

“I don’t know much about him— actually I know next to nothing. My grandmother too, my mother didn’t like to talk about her. Still doesn’t. I think it has to do with—” she stopped, Varyn had shifted the lead up to her so she could take control.

“Here you go, princess, you know more about horses than I do.” Her fingers took the strap of leather and the horse whinnied under her, lips flapping as the animal blew out. “We could probably travel on horseback for a few more hours. I’d rather us be out of the forest before sleeping. Not that it keeps Grievers from wandering, just less likely.” And with how interested they seem to be with you I’d rather not take that chance.

Thank you, for a lot it’s nice to have someone I don’t have to fully pretend around. Someone who—

She floundered for words unsure. She couldn’t drag Brahm through the dirt because he didn’t know but she also didn’t put it past any of them to use her as a bargaining chip to be able to cross their lands. Even more so than that she didn’t want the burden of her family’s secrets to be on them.

☙❦❧

BREATHE

“Thank you for the bar of soap, that was— thoughtful.” She kneeled down next to the Fae female as her little whittling knife made use of separating the skin from the meat.

Dark hands stilled as a confused gaze rose to meet hers, lavender eyes showing no sign of knowing what was being spoken about. Rashka gave a slight frown, did Chandra not expect her to say thank you? She knew she had been rough to be around the past couple of days, but she was nothing if not thankful for the thought.

“The soap you bought from the merchant, thank you.”

“I didn’t—” her head went forward from the light smack Brahm had given the back. Rashka watched as the siblings shared a glance, a heavy silence as he turned away to finish handing Naveen more fuel for the fire. “I didn’t think you’d want to wait for whenever we’d stop in villages to bathe. Not all of them have nice bathrooms, so bathing in a fish filled lake or river would be cleaner if you know what I mean.” It sounded like words that didn’t come from her, like something she was repeating not truly saying from the heart.

Rashka sat back on her haunches, debating with herself if she wanted to pry, either verbally or mentally, about the strange look. Deciding that it wasn’t worth the energy she returned to her bed roll and sat upon it, a stick of granite finding its way into her hand. She had stared at the blank pages of the journal given to her.

What was there to write about?

Did they want her to write so she could spill all her secrets and they could read it, much like Klaas had read her letters? Tucking her knees in close so her heels were almost flush against where her thigh met her backside. Closing the soft bound book she let her fingers relax as her forehead rested on her knees. Tuning out the sounds around her she just breathed, inhaling and exhaling, in deep breaths.

☙❦❧

CHANCE

(GORE)

She could see so clearly as sharp fangs sunk into tender muscle. See the way that it wasn’t just a normal feeding either, the four sharp fangs that would withdraw from the slits in the gums as they snicked into place over normal teeth, the sickening twist of a stomach as a head fast as an adder closed their mouth around the vein on the side of a neck. The way the muscle and tendons pulled as flesh was torn off in a chunk. Thick coppery blood tinged with magic of the half human half fae teenager sprayed the couple before hands grabbed the woman. She looked so much like the corpse lying on the floor as the vampyre continued to tear him to chunks in pleasure that was clear on his face. The impure blood was not worth savoring, the bloody pieces in their mouth were quickly spat back out. They killed a child.

The wet thump of each bloody limb hitting the wood floor after it was done, eating flesh was an animalistic thing to do and we were not animals. This was for entertainment, having the chance to rip apart the enemy. To put fear in the hearts of those in the village.

A younger redheaded girl was held close as they helplessly watched from their hiding place the woman who screamed and begged as she was dragged from the house. Her wild red hair was no different in tone than the blood on her torn shirt.

“Tie her up outside, you know what to do. Let the creatures have her.” The man was taken away, he’d never see the walls of his home again. His wife would be murdered and torn apart in an ending far worse than and feeding would be from one of her own.

☙❦❧

NECK

They were a type of underworldly beautiful that would let you ignore the fangs that hid in their gums, their hearing that when focused could pick up the beating of prey's hearts from a few yards away. Their skin no matter the shade and shape was smooth, only able to be scarred by severe damage caused by fire or deep trauma caused by the most carefully crafted weapons. Crafted from either the same metal that made up the ribbing on their hunting suits — or even now — Little Sea glass.

Having run in with so many Vampyres there was something off about Rashka, a servant and low born Vampyre would only have such features that came with them. Having pure blood tainted with anything that would ruin it also would ruin the beauty as the old codex from the first Counsul had deemed.

Everything about her screamed deadly, dangerous, and to be feared. It made the hair on his neck and arms rise and for a little as his heartbeat quickened, Brahm wondered if this was the very servant that had caused such a flight response in his father. Even more so now that she had fully turned to face him head on and something danced behind her eyes, the straightforward way she stared at him with the stillness of her head reminded him of the badgers that would fight the dogs out in the fields. Always prepared to fight even when backed into a corner without help.

Something began to soothe him, much like the way he’d caress the dark green leaves of the begonias in the conservatory, it was a touch that stroked his mind and he shook his head. The feeling of wrongness burst from his chest. As suddenly as it had started it stopped and the young woman in front of him seemed a little more closed off, arms crossing as it made her chest stick out more. All at once he came crashing down into himself and was hyper aware of the danger she presented, he’d have to ask his father if it was the very feeling he felt staring into that coach.

“Are you thirsty, Princeling?” She tilted her head then and stuck out the side as one would when offering a Vampyre to feed.

“I’m glad to see you’re in a joking manner,” He quickly slammed the cup and pitcher down on the bedside table not caring at the mess he had made in his haste to leave the room and the naked Vampyre standing in the middle of it. It was as if the spell was broken. “I am sure you know how to bathe yourself, I’ll have someone run you by some clothes.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was free for a clothes optional experience.”

He could have sworn she laughed, a silent laugh that seemed to echo around in his head as the door clicked closed behind him, he took a few steps on shaky legs.

☙❦❧

THOUGHT

He found her sitting at the piano tucked away in one of the attic compartments, the old dusty bench decorated with cobwebs. He leaned against an abandoned dresser that was pressed against the wall as he listened to her pluck a few keys, brow pinched in thought.

The sun filtered in through the slits made through the wooden blinds, each swirling speck of dust that danced in the air was visible. She looked like the subject of a forgotten painting, the sole focus in the room as the sun created highlights in her rich dark brown hair. Florence had taken to dressing her new friend, thinking of outfits that she could help his mother make.

“Do not think I do not know you are watching me.” A few more keys are pressed, she never plays a full melody. Maybe just curious.

“I think when my mother wanted you to walk around instead of laying in bed and weakening yourself, she didn’t mean to hide away in the attic with the spiders and ghosts.” A short laugh as he advanced a couple of steps in her direction, she was still so sad. Too sad, and part of him didn’t like it, he couldn’t place it. It fell along the same line if his sister, or mother were sad. If Florence or even Nal were hiding away not wanting to be seen by anyone.

And to him Rashka didn’t want to be seen.

She wouldn’t come down to eat with them, instead the staff would find her sneaking her way into the kitchens for any leftovers at the end of the day. In the two weeks of her recovery she was happened upon doing her own laundry in her bathtub with a bar of soap taken from the laundry. If she ran into any of the staff who had wanted to help her, she would lower her head and not address them, much as if they were a higher status than her.

Something that he hoped she would understand that the people employed by his father were just that, they served willingly and were given the best.

“And what do you know of ghosts, Princeling?” A few notes as he sits next to her on the bench. “Would you like to hear a song?”

☙❦❧

MOVE

“You know more than a few notes?” He jested, concerned to push her too far in her healing state. Worried that the deep seeded sorrow that seemed to radiate off her would cause her to harm herself.

“Do not baby me, I choose to spend my days here as I wish. That is what I was gifted, my ghosts, however many may accompany me, are none of your concern. And I do not wish to share them.” Bitterness rolled off her in waves as she set to moving her hands over the old piano keys, the ivory bending under long slender fingers. A melody started something slow and sweet, a little sorrowful twist and then it crescendoed into something absolute. As if she had played it a thousand times over.

He sat impressed as the music swirled around them until it trailed to a close. “That was,” his own hands fluttered. What could he say?

“I started with a few notes here and there and then it just evolved into this over time.” She plucked a key, thinking.

“Does it have a name?”

“No, I usually only play it for my Mama and Ba, it’s the only sure thing I can play that won’t—” her words stopped abruptly as she frowned, burned out embers fading from her eyes. “Thank you for listening to my playing, sorry to have—”

“No thank you.” Brahm pressed a key of his own, a small smile that suddenly breaks into a new one. “You should come down for practice, I think you could teach a few of my new recruits how to throw a right hook.”

Rashka bristled a little, standing from her place. “I shared with you a few notes on a piano, nothing else. I am not your friend, you must remember even though you have taken in one Vampyre because your sister had fallen deeply in love, I commend you for that. But at what cost, what livelihood did she have to give up to join you? And I will not forget, Prince of Hunters the first born in the line of Najm, who you are and what you do.” Her skirts were brushed off to remove any dust, and a hard line made her mouth.

“At the end of the day I am a leech and you are nothing but a clay-bodied shell,” he winced at the words, at the term that had been used against the Fae for mellenia. “My kind hates your kind for every wrong you have done and continue to do to us, and your people specifically kill mine as if it’s fun. A sport, at least Fangers get paid for their hard work. What do you do? What pleasure and payment do you get from it?”

Venom dripped from her lips, it fell onto his ears and ran down his throat. Each word stung as she walked away.

☙❦❧

BECAUSE

Pretty. Pretty thing. We will get you where you belong.

Wearily Rashka rolled towards the bushline, swearing she heard chewing with the thoughts that awoken her once more. Footsteps neared and she nearly jumped as feet came into view.

“What are you doing?” She hissed as strange hazel eyes almost glowed in his face.

“Naveen is snoring, so I’m moving. I’d like a good night's sleep.” He had rolled his bed roll out in front of hers so he was between her and that line of underbrush. She was confused because there was no snoring from the heavily sleeping Fae opposite the small clearing. “Just go to sleep.”

She couldn’t place why but as her eyes slid shut, his remained open and on her face. It comforted her.

She knew they were being followed, they had to have been. The morning after she went to relieve herself, that feeling of being watched growing, when she stumbled upon the remains of their dinner, completely picked clean. The next was as she went to scribble in the journal just a little four note tune that was stuck in her head there was a smudge of half a fingerprint on one of the pages.

She mentioned the bones to Brahm who shrugged, “it’s just the animals.”

“You slept next to me.”

“I told you,” he fastened her saddle to her horse, “Naveen snores.”

“C—” he waited, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “Could you ride next to me, please?”

Something must have been clear on her face as he opened his mouth to retort before firmly closing it and stalking back to his mount. Quickly climbing on top of hers she tried to not let the surprise show as he let the other two pass him so he could stay at her pace. “Tomorrow night we should be in beds. I bet that’s a luxury you’re not accustomed to not having.”

☙❦❧

CENTER

Memories of how bad Klaas had turned, a young boy with a need for blood outside of being human starved and then staked out in the sun. All for a misplaced ring and a set of rolled silverware he had taken in case she had allowed him to dine with her. She wasn’t going to deny a small boy a bite of custard when he had looked at it like a deaf child by a miracle getting to finally hear his mother’s voice.

Straightening up she took the granite back in hand and started scribbling on the pages. “Morgan was his name, he was only six, and I— everyday the new lady of the house would share her custard if she had been gifted it. I loved him very much, like a brother I’ve always wanted. The Madam was sick for a few days but when she got better and was able to eat once more she asked for custard, two. In his excitement he had grabbed silverware, not bothering to check if it was for them or for us.” She wouldn’t explain who was them and who was us, they didn’t need to know. “Well Lord Heron was seeing someone else and this mistress of his, seeing someone before he was even married. The young bride chose to be in the study so she didn’t have to hear the whispering that the house staff did do. Her ring, the mistress’, went missing. It rolled under the bed in her haste to remove it. She didn’t like having the reminder she was married herself in her face, I guess. We all knew. Her and her husband would come over for dinner and the two would openly flirt. The husband must’ve been a fool if he didn’t realize.

“Well Morgan had found it but chose to do the right thing and turn it into the guard instead of bridging it to me—” a pause as she tried to calm herself, fingers still scribbling on the page. “Or the Madam. The guards assumed he was stealing it and when another servant mentioned the silverware and two and three were put together to make four, instead of five. Morgan didn’t stand a chance, even for a six year old. He was seen as expendable since he was human by default. Lord Heron had him starved and then bound by the wrists around a stake in the town center. We were all to gather and watch as the sun rose.

“Have you ever smelled burning flesh? Seen it? He screamed, he screamed so much and hearing a child scream like that. No one looked upset, no one said anything to stop it. The Madam, she tried to beg for him but, Lord Heron, he smiled in such a way that we knew that he was punishing her by torturing the boy. You see, or well, you know that Vampyre women are nothing. Even the pure bloods are only there for decoration and baby making.”

“I think you are lucky,” Naveen moved away from the fire to start spearing the rabbits with sharpened sticks so they could roast by the fire. “Imagine being a pureblood fated to that. Too valuable to the Counsul to be killed, because from my understanding there hasn’t been a pure blooded female born for many centuries. While saying that you could be killed any moment may be harsh, but there is an end. For the pureblooded females there is no end.”

No end?

☙❦❧

PAST

Claws dug into the dirt next her head as the wailing increased in pitch.

Her heart hammered faster than any rabbit sprinting to its burrow.

Mama, Ba, I am sorry. I know you did your best with me and that you tried to keep me safe knowing what world I was birthed into. But I would rather die like this, torn to pieces than to be someone’s bride. Someone like Klaas Heron. I am sorry that I will never get to see you again.

The noises from the creature stopped and the roaring of the river was almost lost to the thundering of her own heart, Rashka tensed as a warm breath ghosted over her. A wet appendage roughly swiped across her face, it ran along her hair and her neck.

Mama. Girl.

A whimper left her, unable to keep it down. As much as she wanted to be stubborn and go quietly, just the thoughts from these dull creatures surprised her. This one didn’t repeat starving like the other one had, this one also didn’t seem to be tearing into her.

Yet.

Cold continued to run through her, still ghosting past her lips as the frost under her spread. If left alone it would thicken and she would soon have a layer of ice under her, a memory of a storm in a backyard. That racing fear as she hid one early spring under a bench, still too young to understand.

She was young and only wanted to play in the snow, upset that it was warming up. Snow was her favorite, where she could be herself, where no one would be any wiser. This was before she knew that the smell she loved, to her it was more than the fresh snow drifting to the ground. A hint of evergreen added to the smell you have when you take in lungfuls of air on that first cold winter day after solstice. It didn’t smell like that to those like her father, Vampyres, no it had an acrid smell that lingered. Something that could easily be pointed out and pinpointed to the harboring of the enemy blood, that when vampyres smelled that familiarly strange scent they were to report back to the Counsul for investigation.

Frost started to spread on her skin in frozen crystalized patterns, along the grass as it started to reach into the air like fingers. The thin layer thickened as it danced up the Griever’s arm in her line of sight, no matter how it faded at the edge the inhuman arm was the only point of clarity she could take in.

A wailing far louder than before seemed to rock the forest as that arm disappeared, no in her fading vision the creature rolled, the handle of a blade sticking between its ribs. A ghosting breath as it’s head whipped around to something past her.

No. Girl, mine. Girl, like… me.

It clicked towards her, hand reaching out to search for hers, something so human like.

It was the last thing she noted before she was hauled up over a broad shoulder, sudden fatigue washing over her and making her head swim until her eyes refused to open.

Well, shit is this?

#tag game #this dark and divine place #godly ruins

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