#Guilty and terrified of losing one of their loved ones
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God i hope this is around what you imagined. This prompt tugged at my angst loving ass 😭
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Christopher has always been the elephant in the room since he left. The one topic that sticks in Buck’s throat whenever he considers bringing it up due to the fact that he can tell Eddie is suffering—even when he acts like he isn’t.
It’s been months now since that day Eddie’s parents showed up at his door to take Chris away from him… away from Buck. And Buck always feels so guilty whenever he thinks this because… as much as he loves and misses him, Chris has never truly been his. Even if Eddie’s made him his godfather, writing Buck’s name in his will… Chris isn’t his. He’s Eddie’s. And whatever feeling of loneliness, emptiness, and hurt he feels whenever he enters Eddie’s house and isn’t greeted by those curls full of laughter, smarts, and love—Buck knows Eddie feels it a hundred times stronger.
“I need to take him back,” Eddie says, still pacing around his living room. Buck—sitting on the couch after Eddie called him, urgently asking him to come over—wants to stop him, grab him by the arms and ground him before he spirals into a panic attack. Because Eddie looks frantic, terrified. He’s staring at nothing in particular with wide eyes, sweat glistening from whatever terrible thought his imagination is serving him in that moment. “He can’t—he can’t stay there, Buck. I can’t lose him.”
“Okay,” Buck says, calm and steady. For the first time since he’s arrived, Eddie looks at him—teary-eyed and scared out of his mind. And God, Buck can barely meet his gaze without feeling the exact same emotions crawl up his own throat.
“What do we do?”
Eddie pauses, covers his face with his hands, and looks like he wants to scream but instead just sobs. Buck’s heart shatters into a million pieces at the sound.
When Eddie’s hands fly off his face, he looks at Buck with a different expression. It’s still sad, but now there’s a quiet, simmering resolution that wasn’t there before.
“I’m going to Texas,” he says, looking Buck right in the eyes. “I’m going to take my son back.”
Buck feels his throat tighten at Eddie’s words, and this time, it’s his brain conjuring images after images of things he really wishes will never happen. But Eddie is suffering, and his suffering takes priority over whatever fear of abandonment Buck could ever feel. So Buck just nods and helps Eddie pack his bags.
—
There’s a sense of déjà vu when they reach the airport, and Buck quickly pushes it aside—or tries to, at least. Because it comes back once again, a million times stronger, as he looks at Eddie’s frame just outside the glass doors, bags in hand, ready to leave.
Ready to leave him—
But Eddie looks back. A smile on his face and a thank you on his lips. Buck wants to grab him by the hand, pull him away, and tell him not to go. Not to leave him as well, just like everyone else in his life because this time he doesn’t know if he will survive it.
But Buck doesn’t. Because Chris is away, Eddie is suffering, and Chris and Eddie have always been his priority. Is their happiness as important as yours? Buck remembers and he loudly declares to himself that yes, it is. Their happiness is so much more important than his.
Eddie notices, though. He always does. Buck never has to speak for Eddie to understand him. It’s kind of their thing. Their BuckandEddie thing. No words needed when you understand each other to the core.
Eddie takes a few steps toward him, lets his bag fall to the ground, and—does something unexpected. He unclasps the St. Christopher medallion from his neck, slipping it around Buck’s. His hand lingers there, warm and grounding, as if passing on a promise.
“I’ll be back,” Eddie says, a soft smile on his lips, full of this newfound determination. “We’ll be back,” he corrects himself.
Buck nods, smiles back, and he can’t stop the tears from falling down.
But, still? Still, he believes him. He believes that Eddie will be back, Chris in hand and happy.
And he keeps that thought close to his chest, his hand clasped around the medallion—the promise Eddie just made him. This time, he believes it. This time, he knows he won’t be abandoned again.
So um.. does anyone wanna maybe write a fic where Eddie goes to Texas to get Chris and buck ‘abandonment issues’ Buckley is feeling anxious that Eddie won’t come back and then Eddie takes off the st Christopher medal from his neck and puts it on bucks as like a symbolic thing to tell him he will (cos buck will be like I can’t- then Eddie is like this way you can just give it back to me next time you see me ) and they have a moment™️?
#my fic#otp: no i know you did#i wrote this in like 30 minutes#I LOVE ANGST#DONT BE SAD BUCKABOO HELL BE BACK
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At the Zoo XIV
8 y/o Damian, in front of the herpetarium : Ew...
Bruce: I don't understand how you hate snakes so much even though you're an animal lover.
8 y/o Damian: *flashbacks to that time when he was three years old and Jason almost died (again) from saving him from a huge anaconda constrictor during a LoA's mission *
8 y/o Damian: Irrelevant grounds. It is merely because they look scrawny like Drake.
Tim: Hey!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13
#There are things that are better not to ask#And that Damian wouldn't tell them anyway#But he still feels guilty for causing Jason's injuries given his inaptitude#Guilty and terrified of losing one of their loved ones#And those feelings were linked to the snakes#Babybat doesn't like serpents#It's not that he hate them to death#He only prefers them far far away#Based in ''Li'l Gotham n° 6 (2012)''#damian wayne#damianwayne#damian robin#robin damian#dc robin#robin dc#robin#bruce wayne#brucewayne#batman#tim drake#timdrake#red robin#redrobin#featuring#jason todd#red hood#Jason took care of Damian in the LoA
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Has anyone heard "Cut You A Piece" from 35MM A Musical Exhibition? Because I have, and I have thoughts. Welcome to Dreamworld thoughts.
Like, I really want to write a version of the lyrics with Wiatt and Lewis in place of Jules and Jessie.
#WTDW#welcome to Dreamworld#wtdw Lewis#wtdw wiatt#and the narrator would Norman singing to Morris as he realizes that he has someone he loves who makes him strive to be better#And Norman is telling Morris Wiatt and Lewis's story as he realizes he has someone to live for that he only found after they both died#and Norman is terrified of losing Morris/Andrew#and Morris has already lost the Andrew part of himself#and it was taken from him several times by Norman himself#maybe Norman wasn't the one who took Andrew's memories originally and maybe he was#but he did wipe his memories multiple times before (at least I think it was implied to be the case in the tapes)#and norman probably feels guilty now and that the best he can do is start sharing a piece of himself the way Morris probably has
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ill be like I can totally make a lighthearted post mentioning a kink i have and i wont even freak abt it. and then i freak abt it
#its not even one of the ones i normally freak abt. fml. fml. its spreading. eventually i wont even be able to say Strals exist without going#into system shutdown or something. this sucks#this is also why i have so much trouble posting on my nsft is ill go over there and be like. Id love to **** some ***** and then i get#terrified. so i dont#my pfp over there is literally. **** ******* ** * *** but i go over there to post abt how i want to **** * *** and im like that is deviant#i cannot be saying that in front of my followers. who dollowed my nsft blog. where i list the things im into . and my pfo is * **** *******#** * *** so its not like theyd be HORRIFIED if that came up#but idk... i worry ppl dont read my dni over there. bc usually they just follow me after seeing that one post which doesnt rly mention any#of the ones im weird abt. except for like kind of it does but whatever its fine i cannottt freak out abt that post its existed for like.#months now. sigh. its all just a bit embarassing which sucks#“mdni”#IN A MASSIVE WAY. idr if any minors still r here if im still muts with any....#its just like. IDK i either feel a bit silly posting on it and its just mildly embarass Or i send myself into hysterics over how im an evil#person bc i like. well i cant say. obviously. but yk. stufffff. that i am into. I HATE TALKING ABT IT BC IT MAKES ME SOUND LIKE AN EVIL#PERSON AND LIKE. its not anything like. UGH. im not into kids or animals 👍👍👍 obviously. and idt its that bad the things im into some of#them r like basically baby shit like ohhh woww youre into *********** and yet even that i cant talk abt it bc im like um im going to be#smited by god and sent to hell or soemthing and actually i only thing its normal bc im a disgusting weird freak and everybody would kill me#immediately if they knew also im an evil person? its like. UGHHHH.#and the other stuff is. less 'mainstream' which is even scarier but ig in a way ive been More open abt it which is kind of funny. looks at.#but even then i dont rly go in detail bc yk. Stuff. im just like lol they r the way they r bc of how i am. and then i walk away forever#idk. ive been feeling so guilty over that specifically like. UGH. its not like. ugh. i rly cant talk abt it without it being obvious and im#scared byt im also like Compelled to talk abt it so ppl dont think its worse but im also compelled not to bc thats like oversharing i guess#as if thta isnt All i do on this fuckass blog. no matter what i do i lose. i hate my brain so badly i wish i could judt get over it and jus#be like yep these r the things and not have to like over clarify and explain and disclaimer everything and stuff . idk. it suck#mdni#the quotes didnt take it to the top like they used to. kms
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:D :D :D
Spot it is just so good Like amazing! You did such a banger job on it!
And Friend!! I get it! I get the writing spirit sometimes too! (got it now. I am scheming. But it needs to be GOOD so it will be a bit slower than usual :3)
I love that nightmare first made sure they had the basics. and now he can jsut enjoy it and relax while watching them slowly improve. Ngihtmare isn't in a hurry. he feels secure and confident. They can take all the time in the world to improve. Nightmare will support them eveyr step of the way.
I love the differences. Sure them being in sync is cool and awesome. But them all having VEry different styles and specialtise and still being able to work together is even cooler! Because it shows that tehy learned from one another. it shows their personalities and that even if they share the job they have their own way of doing it and that is accepted and worked with!
okay but the idea that killer is seen as a feral animal is fun. Ngihtmare jsut puts them ina room wiht the feral raccoon that is killer and sits back and watches. It always works out great! :D
I love how you show they are also still getting into the rhythm of being with nightamre. of figuring out where they stand. killer is there the longest and most comfrotable. the others are getting there wiht cross needing the most time. (he was a spy. he still feels guilty) and that is okay. they aren't in a hurry.
And yes! nightmare gives positive reinforcement. It is important for them to be motivated to learn and keep trying.
The bed time is honestly so cute. it is a nice little forshadow but also it is such a nice look into nightmare. the way that his child self is still in there. because he enver truly completed the ritual (something something about killing someone making you lose your innocence. so the whole ritual with the killing part was meant to truly shut down the child part of yourself and only leave the power with your slight thought process.)
by still including little nightmare to influence big nightmare. it makes it so that it is celar and nightmar never truly ascended that last bit. he rose above yes. but he never became a true god by losing his childhood and humanity by killing for power. and that is where and why nightmare was different.
And then he is a child againa dn immediantly be went back to his child reflexes. there isn't even him trying to do what he would with magic. it is just him. it has always just been him. he jsut had more magic and a way to use the magic to protect himself without even needing to think about it.
but that is gone. all that is left is jsut nightmare. so he immediantly does what he always did. he fawns. he freezes in fear. he waits nd is quiet as he is terrified. He waits to see what happens as he tries to keep that fear and worry inside.
Bud!! The way nightmare lost all sense. it was so good because it was the magic! The magic was making him able to feel emotions. to feel the world around him. to even SEE it. because the magic was also in his eye lights. it was covering his sockets. it makes sense he loses all his senses before slowly regaining them. Because the goop and magic took care of it all. and now he went back to his old and normal senses.
Okay the fact that in his moment of disbalance that nightmare immediantly reached for killer. without even meanign to. his instinct was to reach out and get help. and that is beautiful. The trust nightmare has in his knights. the way they answered that by offering help and trying everything they can.
The fact that horror wanted to stay and help. try and do first aid before anything else. but killer realising that nightmare i sMELTING. realises that even if the kngihts and ccino don't interact much (ccino would love to interact more but they are limited) killer KNOWS that ccino would know. if anyone knows it is ccino. (killer has seen ccino put nightmare back together enough to know that for certain. That ccino most likely knows nightmare better than nightmare even knows himself and maybe maybe killer is still a tiny bit jealous about that but he doesn't let it interfere. He loves ccino too much and he respects and cares for nightmare too much to let that happen)
nightmare may not realise it... but he is very clearly the tiny skeleton. the babybones they saw on the trapestry. Nightmare may not realise it but he looks so painfully young. The knights know of course about the story. the fact that nightmare hadn't been meant to take the power but he did. they know generally what happened... but to see it?
it is one thing to know your boss took part in a ritual when he was 13 to became a being who could rival the gods in power.
It is another thing to see this tiny hurt babybones staring at you. shaking and exhausted. a crack in his skull (which they later learn had been done by his own twin. after ngihtmare tried to help him by taking the apple that before the goop fully solidified that dream hadHIT him. hard enough to crack his skull).
Like... they knew... but now they have this tiny tiny babybones in their mids. hurt confused and so so scared.
And nightmare meanwhile? the bbay is confused. he is fawning and falling over and he can't pick a side between trust or fear. he is so used to always having to pick fear before when he was little. he trusted his knights when big yes but his knights swore loyalty to him as an adult. he isn't an adult anymore so the oath doens't count anymore and what if they don't want to help him? what if the onyl reason they didn't leave was because nightmare could get them things?
and then ccino walks in.
I like that ccino wasn't even sure WHY he was here. all he knew was that somethign was wrong with nightmare. He tries to act as if he is just loyal but that is STILL his little brother! (no ccino doesn't care nightmare was now technically bigger, older and more powerful than him. ccino is the big brother in this relationship) ((picture the meme of 'he asked for no pickles' with ccino saying it and nightmare (adult form) next/behind him))
So he isn't even sure what is wrong and thinks the worst because why else would they ge thim and-
and then he sees his little brother. the little babybones he has been taken care of since nightmare was born. His little baby brother.
So in that moment. the wall breaks. There is grief but such happiness and ccino just wants to grab him but he still knows he still thinks and plans because that is what he does. he needs to plan and make sure it is easiest for nightmare. so he sits down adn gives the choice to his little brother. maybe he doesn't want a hug? maybe he doens't want to be touched?
and nightmare is in his arms. clearly not watning to be anywhere but there. Ccino just holding him as he barely holds himself together.
ccino straight up holding EVERYTHING together all the time and honestly it is a surprise he hasn't had a giant break down yet. it is waiting to happen and it just keeps building and building. (old habits die hard. ccino wasn't allowed to process before and then ngihtamre took over and at first ccino needed to keep it together for him and then he just... never allowed himself to relax because he needs to be ready in case he is needed.)
I think? honestly?
The followup? would be most interesting to go from the POV of the knights.
because we know that ccino would just be so relieved and happy to hold nightmare. but ccino and nightmare are also the guys with the most knowledge. so the unknowing nature of the guys? their thoughts and reactions when they learn more? that would be so interesting
New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)
Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!
(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)
The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.
Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?
The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.
So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.
These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.
His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.
A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.
Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.
It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.
Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.
He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.
"On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.
Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.
They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.
He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.
It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.
Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.
"Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.
Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.
"Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."
"Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.
That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.
"If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.
He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.
Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.
"Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.
Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.
"I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."
Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.
As far as he knew, he never did.
"You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.
"Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.
Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.
He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.
Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.
And...
He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?
It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.
His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.
The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.
Why?
His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.
It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.
The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?
"Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."
Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?
No, it wasn't them.
"Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."
For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-
"What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.
Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.
"Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.
The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.
"W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.
"Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."
Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.
He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.
Nightmare gagged.
Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.
For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.
And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.
It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.
Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.
It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.
"My king?"
Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.
Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.
He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-
He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.
"Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.
Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.
"My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.
"Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.
It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...
He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.
Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
"What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.
"We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."
Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.
As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.
Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.
"Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.
Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.
For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.
Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.
Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.
At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.
#friend i already know i missed stuff in my reply but i am going nuts and i got ideas and AAAAAAAH#Also. I had another thought.#You know how we said that ccino wasn't allowed to be hurt because he had to be pretty and shit?#what if. That wasn't per se the case?#he jsut needed to be able to heal. he wasn't allowed PERMANENT marks.#and you kow how ccino is VERY much like 'this isn't my cat' or 'these cats aren't mine'?#My thought.#ccino once found a hurt cat on castle grounds.#he managed to get it to his room and helped it heal.#he tried to release it into the wild but well. cats love ccino.#the cat keeps sneaking back inside. and ccino keeps moving it outside.#eventually it goes wrong.#someone sees and snitches and well.#ccino is in trouble for bringing vermin into the castle.#he tries to explain he was just moving it outside but well. Nim doens't believe him.#nim thinks for a while. thinking hard before deciding. The back isn't that much in view anyway.#whip lashes will do. BUT!#between each lash. the old wounds need to be healed over before the next.#Which just meant it took AGES and AGES to heal the lash so they wouldn't scar#and his back would be barely healed and very sensitive from the lashes and the healing magic#so yeah.#the lesson stuck.#Ccino doesn't have any cats. he doens't know how they keep getting inside.#Ngihtmare doesn't know this happened. (nim made sure these kind of things stayed out of the twins view)#Ccino KNOWS it is fine now. that nightmare would never. but there is still the reaction.#he still loves nad adores cats however. (it also means even more that he kept the kitten killer gave him)#(as for the original cat? well... you already mentioned they were used for sacrifices.)#yes. ccino still feels awful about it.#okay that was it. that was my guy punch for the evening
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DISAPPROVAL, t. owens
word count | 1.6k
pairings | tyler owens x fem!storm chaser!reader
summary | in which javi disapproves of his sister’s relationship
warnings | contains spoilers for the movie!! mentions of death, tornadoes, and panic attacks. brother-sister fighting, slight angst. one use of ‘y/n’. not proofread. lowercase intended.
a/n | i literally can’t stop thinking about this movie. tyler owens x javi’s sister has me in a choke hold
you had never been the type to run from your fears, not now and definitely not five years ago. you used to storm chase with kate carter and your brother, javi, as well as three other of your friends. the six of you, led by kate, had come together to see if it was really possible to reduce the intensity of a tornado. you knew that the experiment would be dangerous, but it had never fully occurred to you that you or anyone else could die. that was a mistake you swore you would never make again.
five years had passed and you still were waking up, sweating and shaking from the horrid night where you lost three of your closest friends. you shakily tore the covers from your body, walking quietly to the bathroom so as to not wake the sleeping body still in bed. you closed the door to the bathroom before turning on the light. you turned the sink on, splashing water on your face as a sigh escaped your mouth. you gripped the sides of the sink, attempting to center yourself. “fuck.”
“babe, you in there?” you jumped when tyler knocked on the door, your breathing quickening once more. “babe?” tyler turned the door knob, pushing it up to see you slowly sliding down the wall as you began to hyperventilate. he rushed to your side, which wasn't far in the cramped bathroom. he helped you to the floor, sitting in front of you. “hey, hey, let's just sit down. just breathe with me, okay?” you nodded, following tyler in his exaggerated breathing, feeling as your heart rate began to slow down. “you’re okay, you’re safe.” you nodded, finally noticing the tears streaming down your face.
“sorry, ty, i didn’t mean to wake you.” you apologized through sniffles, wiping at your nose.
“you didn’t wake me. plus, i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you still felt guilty about it, about him constantly dealing with your nightmares and panic attacks. you felt guilty that you still pushed yourself to storm chase even though you are terrified of losing the ones you love most. you knew you shouldn’t push that guilt or fear away, but there was another part of you that just wanted to help people. “why don’t we go get some breakfast?” tyler helped you to your feet, the two of you trudging over to the diner across from the motel.
breakfast had been mostly silent, tyler trying to start a conversation but you were too stuck in your head. your knee anxiously bounced as you realized you would be heading to oklahoma, and that you were more than likely to run into your brother javi. you had talked to javi a lot over the phone, but it had been at least a year since you had last seen him in person. he’d been begging you for a few weeks now to leave tyler and the wranglers behind and to join his crew and help with a new tornado scanning system. you knew javi just wanted to help people, but the people funding his projects did not have the same interests at heart. “you ready?” you looked, not hardly having touched your food, accepting tyler’s extended hand. “boone’s getting pretty antsy about leavin’. dude’s been blowing up my phone for like the last thirty minutes.” you giggled when tyler showed you his phone with nearly fifty texts from boone.
“i’m surprised he’s even up, let alone ready to hit the road.” tyler tossed an arm over your shoulders, placing a delicate kiss on your temple as you walked back to the motel.
“yeah, well, best not to keep the man waiting.” tyler went to grab your stuff from the motel room before checking out, leaving you to rig up the gps.
“boone! you ridin’ with us?” you shouted over to boone who was talking with dexter, dani, and lily. “we’ve got a seat open for you as well, ben.” you smiled to the journalist, who thought you to be the only sane one of the group. ben smiled at you, his body language showing he was clearly uneasy. “don’t worry, the ride to oklahoma shouldn’t be too bad.”
“it's not that ride that i’m worried about.” before you could question him, boone hopped in beside him, tyler entering the driver’s seat not a moment later.
“let’s ride!” boone whooped, tyler tearing out of the parking lot. you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to be hyped up like your boyfriend and friend, too anxious about seeing your brother. he had already disapproved of you riding with the wranglers, you couldn’t imagine how he’d react when he found out you were dating tyler owens of all people.
at some point during the ride, you had fallen asleep only to be startled awake by boone, camera in hand as he yelled out the truck. “sorry, babe.” tyler quietly apologized to you, squeezing your hand. you squinted out the window, your stomach dropping at the sight of javi and kate, stood side by side. all the shouting and cheering seemed to be muted when your eyes locked with javi’s. even though you were nervous, the sight of your big brother brought a soft smile to your face.
tyler put the truck in park, the crowd surrounding them. you pushed the door open, hopping down as tyler got the crowd chanting. boone was walking around, filming, while dani, lily, and dexter began to sell the merchandise. you stood off to the side, watching tyler do his thing, a smile gracing your lips. you looked around, catching kate’s eye, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her friend. she walked over to you, engulfing you in a hug before you had time to say anything. “kate! i wasn’t expecting to see you here!” you laughed, gripping kate tightly.
“i didn’t realize you were still chasing, i thought you would at least be riding with javi.” you tensed slightly at your brother’s name, pulling back from kate’s arms.
“uh, yeah, i’ve just decided to ride with the wranglers this season.” your tenseness didn’t go unnoticed by kate, but before she could ask you anything your attention was brought to your brother waltzing over. “javi!” your nerves dissipated when javi threw his arms around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
“i’ve missed you, sis.” you let out a sigh, trying not to let the tears well in your eyes.
“i’ve missed you too, javi.” you pulled back, now seeing your crew watching you. the crowd had mostly left, and the sight of you hugging a man that wasn’t tyler had them concerned. “why don’t you come meet my crew?” you knew javi had no interest in meeting your crew, but you wanted him to see they weren’t just daredevils with a need for a thrill. “hey, guys, i want you to meet my brother, javi, and my good friend, kate!” everyone but boone and tyler had come to meet them. “javi, kate, meet dexter, lily, and dani! oh, and ben! he’s a london journalist writing a piece on american storm chasing.” you pointed to each member, getting soft ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’.
“nice to meet you guys!” kate smiled, javi not saying anything. you felt a pang in your heart when javi didn’t seem to take the people you considered to be some of your closest friends.
“well, who do we have here?” you turned to see tyler and boone walking toward you, a large smile breaking out on your face. “you must be javi, and… kate, right?” kate nodded, shaking tyler’s hand.
“kate, javi, this is boone, and this is tyler owens.” tyler walked to your side, slinging an arm loosely around your shoulder while boone waved, going to put the camera back into the truck. “nice to meet you both.” he tipped his hat to the two. you watched javi closely, he practically had steam coming out his ears at the sight of tyler’s arms around your shoulder. javi had always been overprotective, and you wished he would realize you can hold your own. “we’re headin’ out in a few, ‘kay?” you nodded, tyler pressing a kiss to your temple before jogging over to boone. you looked back to javi who was red in the face, and kate who was clearly shocked.
“javi–” you started, javi pulling you to a quiet spot away from everyone else.
“really? tyler owens?” he spat out tyler’s name like it was venom. “c’mon y/n, he’s an idiot who drives into tornadoes! he doesn’t give a shit about anyone, especially those affected by said tornadoes!” tears welled in your eyes, anger bottling up.
“oh, and you do? javi! your investors don’t give any shits about these people! they only care about the money! and you, you’re helping them by getting this data!” you wiped at the tears that spilled over, “we help people, javi! we sell the merch to pay for the supplies, and the revenue we make off the streams and videos go to families in need. we just don’t show that part on the internet.” it seemed to dawn on javi that you would have never ridden with the wranglers for as long as you had if you weren’t helping people. “tyler treats me well, and maybe you’d have seen that if you weren't so busy making assumptions about him.” you spat at him before turning on your heel, walking toward the truck, actively ignoring javi’s shouting.
“you okay?” tyler asked, noticing your rosy cheeks. “want me to beat his ass?” you glared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. tyler was mostly all bark and no bite.
“no, he just needs time.” you reached up, kissing tyler before taking his hand in yours and walking back to the truck. javi watched as tyler opened your door and helped you in, watching tyler stare lovingly at you. and javi knew that he had fucked up.
#angelicsoka#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens x reader#twisters#twisters imagine#javi rivera#javi rivera x reader#javi rivera x sister!reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x rivera!reader#glen powell x reader#glen powell imagine#glen powell#imagine
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7th Headless Haunting: The Invisible Woman
A ghost's appearance can change over time depending on the emotional connection to their former lives. This change is involuntary and inconsistent. For some, their form shifts to mirror the cause of their death, or emphasizes some other lasting trauma. Others shift into a metaphorical representation of how they view themselves. But most just look like their living forms until time makes the details slip away. Because if there's no one left to remember them properly, and they can't really remember themselves, that can trigger a disconnection from their physical past. This disconnect causes the "sheet ghost" effect, as the soul loses the shape of its previous container.
It's a sad thing, catching a glimpse of a soul losing their face. But that's part of the cycle of life and death. Everything changes. Everything fades.
Sometimes that fading is even done on purpose.
Morgan doesn't call herself Morgan anymore because she doesn't want to metaphysically dox herself.
Through the efforts of the most annoying woman she's ever met, she's become one of the most famous ghosts in the south. She did not ask for this, she does not want it, and every day she wonders how she could have possibly been charmed into a barely 3 week relationship by someone she had to politely ask to stop making tictoks in the crystal shop constantly. It was easy to blame grief and depression for the drastic lowering of standards but still. Good lord.
She realized her mistake pretty quickly, but then "Luna's" roommate supposedly kicked her out with no warning and a sick cat named Quartz. And past!Morgan, who vividly remembered how much being homeless sucked, didn't want her out on the street.
(Okay, mostly she didn't want Quartz out on the street. He was goofy and sweet and the knowledge that she liked him way more than her new girlfriend made her feel guilty.)
This was a mistake.
She opened her home to them. Payed for emergency cat surgery. Dealt with arguments over filming in the house and random strangers coming over for "guided group spiritual exploration" sessions that she wasn't allowed to be in the room for because Luna was "working". Scrubbed Luna's essential oil covered bare ass marks off of her kitchen counters. And in return, she got this woman inviting something into her home.
One night while Luna was out with friends, it came into Morgan's bedroom and left her head on the other side of the house.
She never figured out exactly what got her, but the dark twisted shape made sure to find her terrified spirit before it left, and she could feel its irritation as it inspected her. She wasn't the right target. Luna owed a dept that she probably didn't even comprehend to something very pissed off.
All this would have been bad enough, but none of it was really worth being a ghost about. She'd had worse relationships, and since grandma was gone, almost all of her loved ones were dead anyway, so she really should have left.
But what about Quartz?
She was the one handling all of his post operative care, and after watching Luna forget time after time to feed him or give him his meds or even really pay attention to him when he wasn't serving as a cuddly toy to cry on or an aesthetic set piece for videos, she decided to hang around until he was either stable or dead.
Which is how she found out about the haunted house tours.
Luna had been doing this for a while. It seems that every place she had ever lived was "haunted" and she made sure that the internet knew about all the trials and tribulations of being so spiritually gifted in a world filled with such trauma laden souls. She'd been kicked out of her last place for having a pretend spectral affair with her former roommate's dead best friend, and when she moved it didn't take a day for her to "sense something..." and start secretly profiting off of made up shit about Morgan's grandmother.
But now that Morgan was dead she had a goldmine on her hands. The gory, violent, locked room mystery death of a fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a low cut night gown was already pretty good, but add in the lesbian romance, Morgan's family history, and the fact that Luna's True Love had recently Saved her from an Abusive Environment and Certain Homelessness? Well, that's money baby.
Morgan's friends, bless 'em, had stopped Luna from livestreaming the funeral, and got as many pictures of her body taken down as they could.
Sadly, the fundraiser to purchase her family home for "spiritual conservation" was successful.
She had no idea that her following was that big.
She really should have checked.
Anyway.
Because of Luna she's spent the last 8 years being stalked by the living. Strangers pay to sleep in her bed and record the ambient noises of her room hoping she'll show up and talk to them. They buy books made of private poetry stolen from her journals. They demonize her dead family members and speculate on horrific abuse that didn't happen because "if you pay attention to how she dressed/read between the lines in her writing, there are clues she had serious daddy issues".
Recently, there was a shitty romance novel published based on her death, implying that whatever killed her was simply mad with lust and wanted to make her his dark bride in hell.
Yes "his". Her proxy was straight in that one.
And way slimmer.
That's a reoccurring thing that she tries not to think about too hard.
But the point is that all this mess keeps her from moving on. She just... can't. She spends all her time trying to sabotage Luna's grift as best she can. She exposes all the little tricks Luna uses during her seances to show she's not talking to anyone. She actively keeps other spirits away from the house just in case any of the ghost hunting gear people haul into her living room actually works (it doesn't but better safe that sorry). She never speaks just in case a recording picks something up and she's thrown away chunks of identifying features like her face and most of her tattoos so that if she is spotted, she's harder to identify.
She's spent years staging the most intensive anti-haunting she possibly can.
Quartz died 6 months ago and walked right past the entrance to the rainbow bridge to settle in her lap, just like old times. He tries to lead her away from the house a lot. Into the sunrise, towards her grandma's loud bright laughter and the bustling sounds of a family reunion in full swing.
She wants to follow him so badly.
She just.
Can't.
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"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part iv
Joel Miller x f!reader
previous part | next part
chapter summary: After almost losing you, Joel does everything he can to get you back.
w.c: 14k (idk why all chapters are this long, sorry this is a filler chapter)
warnings: angst, mentions of blood, feelings of cheating, reader cries a lot, miscommunication, fluff, and poorly written smut. No proofreading, sorry.
a/n: chapter four was supposed to be the last one but I keep writing many words. Thank you so much for the love you have shown to this story so far, you will finally see the light in this chapter, so much love for you. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Joel’s heart hasn’t been beating this rapidly since that night.
Running desperately behind Tommy as they made their way back through the darkened woods, moving as quickly as they could while still being careful not to jostle you too much.
He could still feel the warmth of your skin irradiating his hands as the rest of the world around him felt distant, blurred by the sole focus on keeping you alive. Every breath you took, every faint whisper of your voice, was a reminder that you were still here, still fighting.
Tommy’s own fear was evident in the urgency of his movements. He kept glancing back at his older brother with you on his arms. The silence between the two of them felt heavy, filled with the unspoken dread of what might happen if they didn’t make it back to Jackson in time.
Tommy feared what might be the consequences for him if you wouldn’t make out alive of this.
The guilty.
The regret.
The madness.
The what if.
When the lights of Jackson came into view, Tommy felt like breathing again. Looking behind him, if he could see the same light on Joel’s face, he only saw his brother's fastness of pace.
As they approached the gates, Tommy called out to the guards, who quickly opened the gates for them, their faces showing shock and concern as they saw the state you were in.
Your clothes were dripping in blood, and Joel’s didn’t know if that was all yours at this time.
He was terrified.
“Get the infirmary ready!” Tommy shouted as they hurried through the gates, his voice commanding and urgent. The guards and townspeople quickly sprang into action, clearing a path and rushing ahead to prepare for your arrival.
Joel didn’t let go of you, even as they reached the infirmary. He carried you inside, his arms trembling from the effort but refusing to let go. Dr. Ramirez was already there, Maria with her, her face pale with worry as she saw you in that state.
“Get her on the table,” Dr. Ramirez instructed, moving quickly to clear the space as the other doctor joined her. Joel reluctantly laid you down, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to leave your side.
“We need space to work,” Dr. Ramirez said gently but firmly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You need to step back.”
Joel looked like he was about to argue, his eyes locked on your now pale face, but Tommy stepped in, guiding him away from the table. “Let them do their job, Joel,” he said quietly, his voice laced with his own anxiety. “They’ll take care of her.”
Joel stood there, his heart pounding as he watched the medics swarm around you, their hands moving swiftly as they assessed your injuries and began to save your life. He felt helpless, every instinct screaming at him to protect you, but all he could do was stand there and wait, praying that you would pull through.
Maria approached Joel, her face etched with concern. “She’s strong, Joel,” she said softly, trying to offer some comfort. “She’ll get through this.”
But Joel could only nod numbly, his eyes never leaving your still form as the medics worked to save your life. The weight of everything he had almost lost bore down on him, and all he could do was hope that it wasn’t too late.
In the midst of the chaos, as the medics worked quickly and urgently around you, you reached out with a trembling hand, searching for something familiar, something to anchor you in the middle of the pain and fear you felt. Your fingers brushed against Joel’s hand, and you gripped it tightly, as if holding on for dear life.
Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt your touch. He immediately clasped your hand in both of his, his grip firm yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but even more afraid to let go.
“I’m here,” he whispered, leaning closer to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”
The medics continued to work, their hands moving with practiced efficiency, but for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just you and Joel, connected by that small, desperate touch.
Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you looked up at him, your gaze clouded with pain. “Joel…”
“Shh, don’t talk,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. “Save your strength. Just keep holding on, okay?”
You nodded weakly, your grip on his hand tightening for a brief moment before your strength waned again. But you didn’t let go, and neither did he.
In that moment, as the medics fought to save your life, Joel realized just how deeply he cared for you. The thought of losing you was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make sure you made it through this.
Tommy stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart, understanding the depth of his brother's feelings without a word being spoken. He placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder, offering silent support as they both stood vigil, waiting for the moment when the worst would pass and you could finally be safe again.
"Hold her hand," Dr. Ramirez instructed, knowing that the pain would be intense as she began to stitch your wound. "She’s going to need you to keep her grounded."
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your hand, leaning in closer so you could feel his presence and hear his voice. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You hold on to me, okay?"
You nodded weakly, your face pale and glistening with sweat. The pain was unbearable—a searing, white-hot agony that tore through your body as the doctor prepared to stitch the wound. You gritted your teeth, but as soon as the needle pierced your skin, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate.
Joel winced, his heart shattering at the sound of your pain, but he didn’t let go. He squeezed your hand tighter, his other hand brushing your hair back from your face in a comforting gesture. "I know it hurts, sunshine, I know," he murmured, his voice steady even though he was breaking inside. "But you’ve got to hold on. Just a little longer, okay?"
Dr. Ramirez worked quickly, her hands steady and sure as she stitched your wound, but the pain was relentless. Each stitch felt like fire, and you cried out again, your body writhing involuntarily on the table.
"Look at me," Joel urged, his voice a lifeline in the sea of pain. "Keep your eyes on me. I’m not letting go."
Your gaze found his, your eyes wide and filled with tears, but you focused on him—on the sound of his voice, on the feel of his hand in yours. It was the only thing that kept you from losing yourself in the agony.
"That’s it," he whispered, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "You’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer, and this’ll all be over."
Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pain overwhelming, but you clung to his hand like a lifeline. His voice and his touch were the only things keeping you grounded, and you held on with everything you had.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor tied off the last stitch and stepped back, her expression one of relief. "We’re done," she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel. “We need to keep her wound from an infection.”
Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did it, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of pride and relief. "You’re going to be okay."
The pain was still there, a dull, throbbing ache, but as the worst of it began to ebb away, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You managed a small, tired smile up at Joel, your eyes heavy with the need for rest.
"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t leave me."
"Never," Joel promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."
As the last stitch was secured, the intense pain began to subside, leaving you drained and trembling. The doctor stepped back, wiping her hands as she gave a nod of reassurance to Joel.
"You’re going to be alright," she said softly, her voice a gentle balm in the quiet room. "Get some rest now. You need it."
You felt the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, and your body, finally allowed a reprieve, craved the relief of sleep.
"Stay with me," you whispered again, your voice barely above a murmur as you looked up at Joel. Your grip on his hand loosened, not out of fear, but out of sheer weariness.
"I’m right here," Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned closer. "I’m not going anywhere, sunshine. You rest now."
You managed a faint smile, comforted by his presence, and let your eyes drift shut. The world around you began to fade, the sounds of the infirmary growing distant as sleep took hold.
Joel watched as your breathing slowed, your face relaxing into a peaceful expression. He kept his hand in yours, even as your grip slackened completely, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.
He stayed by your side, his own heart finally starting to calm, as he whispered, "I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go. Never again."
Joel sat by your side, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair away from your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might break under his hands. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady rhythm a small comfort after the chaos of the night.
His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes never leaving your face. He took in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way your lashes rested softly against your cheeks, the slight furrow in your brow that lingered even in sleep. It was as if he were memorizing you, committing this moment to memory, a reminder that you were here, alive, and safe.
Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn’t hear Tommy approach until his brother’s voice broke through the silence.
“Joel,” Tommy said softly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You should get some rest. She’s gonna be fine. The doc said so.”
Joel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. He knew Tommy was right, knew that he needed sleep, but the thought of leaving you, even for a moment, felt impossible.
“I can’t,” Joel finally murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “I can’t leave her, Tommy. Not after everything…”
Tommy sighed, his heart aching for his brother. He could see the toll the night had taken on Joel—the worry etched into his face, the exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He crouched down beside him, trying to meet Joel’s gaze.
“I know you’re scared,” Tommy said quietly. “But she’s strong. She made it through, and she’ll keep fighting. But you—you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. You can’t help her if you’re running on empty.”
Joel finally tore his eyes away from you, looking at Tommy with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I just… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I could survive it.”
Tommy’s expression softened, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You won’t lose her, Joel. She’s not going anywhere. But you need to be strong for her, and that means getting some rest. I’ll stay here with her. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
Joel hesitated, his gaze flickering back to you. The thought of leaving, even just to lie down, felt wrong. But he knew Tommy was right; he was barely holding on, and you needed him to be strong.
Joel shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, Tommy," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm staying with her."
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Joel's face stopped him. There was a quiet resolve in Joel's expression, a fierce protectiveness that Tommy knew all too well. He had seen it before, back when Joel would do anything to keep the people he cared about safe. And now, with you lying there so vulnerable, Tommy knew there was no convincing his brother to leave your side.
"Alright," Tommy finally said, his tone gentle. "But you need to rest too, Joel. Even just for a little while. I’ll be here, watching over both of you.”
Joel didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you as you slept. His thumb continued to trace soothing patterns on the back of your hand, grounding himself in the simple act of holding on to you. He could see the tension slowly easing from your features, the pain and exhaustion giving way to a deeper, more peaceful sleep.
Tommy sighed softly, pulling up a chair beside Joel. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised, his voice low. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re all here for you and for her.”
Joel nodded, acknowledging his brother’s presence, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He couldn’t. The thought of closing his eyes, even for a second, felt impossible. What if you needed him? What if something happened while he wasn’t watching?
He didn’t want to miss a thing.
So he stayed, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes tracing the familiar contours of your face as if to reassure himself that you were still there, still breathing, still alive. The fear that had gripped him so tightly was still there, but it was tempered by the warmth of your hand in his, the steady rhythm of your breath, and the quiet strength that you always seemed to carry.
“Get some rest, Joel,” Tommy urged quietly, but Joel simply shook his head.
“I’m fine,” Joel murmured, though the exhaustion in his voice was evident. “I just need to be here.”
Tommy watched his brother for a moment, seeing the depth of love and fear in Joel’s eyes. He knew better than to push. Joel would rest when he was ready, and not a moment before. So, instead, Tommy settled into his chair, keeping watch alongside his brother, the two of them united in their silent vigil over you.
And as the hours passed, Joel remained by your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze never wavering. Because in that moment, nothing mattered more to him than being there for you, making sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there, holding on, and never letting go.
As the first light of dawn filtered through the small window of the infirmary, you slowly began to stir. The world around you was a haze, the remnants of pain and exhaustion still weighing heavily on your body. You blinked slowly, your vision clearing enough to make out the room around you.
It took you a moment to realize that Joel was there, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. He was asleep; his face relaxed in a way that you hadn’t seen in a long time. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and close, brought a faint smile to your lips despite the weakness that still coursed through your body.
You tried to lift your hand to touch him, to reassure yourself that this moment was real, but even that small movement felt like too much. Your body was still recovering, every muscle aching, every breath a reminder of the ordeal you had been through.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible.
He didn’t stir at first, his breathing steady and deep, his exhaustion evident in the way he clung to you even in sleep. But as you tried again, your fingers brushing lightly against his hair, he began to wake, his body tensing as he slowly lifted his head.
His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but relief in his expression, a flood of emotion that he couldn’t quite hide. He sat up quickly, his hand instinctively moving to check your bandages to make sure you were really okay.
“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something that made your heart ache.
You nodded weakly, your throat too dry to speak again. But your eyes said everything—how grateful you were that he was there, how much it meant to you to wake up and find him by your side.
Joel reached for a cup of water on the bedside table, carefully helping you take a few sips. “Easy,” he murmured, his touch gentle as he held the cup to your lips. “You need to take it slow.”
You did as he said, letting the cool water soothe your parched throat. When you had drunk enough, he set the cup aside and turned his full attention back to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Joel said, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been awake when you needed me.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the weakness that still gripped you. “You were here, Joel,” you whispered.
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with so much emotion that it almost overwhelmed you. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. “But you’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
You nodded again, your heart swelling with gratitude and something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite put into words. You were too tired to say more, too weak to do anything but close your eyes and let the warmth of his presence wash over you.
As you drifted back into sleep, your eyes fluttering shut, Joel felt a jolt of fear surge through him. Your sudden stillness, the way your body relaxed completely, sent a wave of panic crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest as he gently shook your shoulder, trying to wake you.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” Joel urged, his voice thick with fear. “Don’t go to sleep again. What’s happening?”
He looked around frantically for someone, anyone, to help. His hands trembled as he touched your face, feeling the coolness of your skin. “Doc! Doc, get in here!” Joel’s voice was desperate, echoing through the infirmary as he called out for help.
Within moments, the doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, their expressions serious as they approached the bed. Joel reluctantly stepped back, his eyes never leaving your face, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
“What’s happening to her?” Joel demanded, his voice breaking with emotion as he watched the doctor check your pulse and examine your condition.
“She’s okay,” the doctor said calmly, sensing Joel’s distress. “Her body is just exhausted. She needs to rest. The sleep is a good sign—it means she’s healing.”
Joel’s heart rate started to slow, but the fear still clung to him, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “But she just went limp,” he said, his voice still shaking. “I thought—”
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s scary, but I promise you, she’s stable. Her body needs time to recover, and sleep is the best thing for her right now.”
Joel let out a shaky breath, his eyes returning to your sleeping form. He slowly sank back into the chair beside your bed, his hand instinctively reaching for yours again. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but the doctor’s words gave him some comfort.
“Just make sure she’s okay,” Joel whispered, his voice barely audible as he watched you sleep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not after everything that had happened.
The doctor nodded, giving Joel a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back, leaving the room in the quiet of the early morning. The nurse adjusted your IV and checked your bandages, ensuring everything was in order before quietly exiting as well.
Joel stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he watched you breathe, each rise and fall of your chest a small comfort to him. He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him, but he refused to let himself sleep again.
He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.
That was the last time you opened your eyes.
For the past three days you had been lost in a slumber, healing. Perhaps from the internal wounds you had to recover yet from, the tiredness from your body, the emotional exhaustion you had been through, not only during that night but from the day Joel had appeared in your life.
And he hadn’t left your side.
For the past three days he had been sitting next to you, terrified of not being there the moment you would open your eyes.
He had made you a promise; he would never leave you again. As controlling as it sounded, he was afraid of letting you out of his sight. He was terrified of you never waking up again.
But he was mostly terrified of not being able to love you and show you he meant it.
He meant those three words the night he had made love to you.
Of course, his memories had come back the moment you almost left earth, as a reminder, perhaps, of how good you were to him.
He thought of Sarah, of how it was her who saved you to give her dad a chance to become the sweet man he once was.
For him, for you, and for the sake of a story he wanted to write.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh sunlight, allowing only a gentle glow to filter in. Joel sat by your bedside, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to close. The past three days had been a blur—a mix of fear, hope, and unrelenting determination. He refused to let go of your hand, as if the physical connection would somehow anchor you to this world and keep you from slipping away.
Your breathing was steady, your face peaceful in sleep, but every time Joel looked at you, he was reminded of how close he had come to losing you. The thought of it made his heart clench.
For the past three days, he had been preparing for the moment you would open your eyes, knowing that when you did, everything would be different. He wanted to be ready, to be the man you deserved, to give you the love and life you both had been searching for.
So, he stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving you, waiting for the moment when you would wake up and see that he was there, just as he promised.
The quiet of the room was interrupted by the soft creak of the door as it opened. Joel’s attention snapped to the movement, his body instinctively tensing. When Lori stepped inside, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face visibly tightened.
Lori hesitated in the doorway, her eyes flickering between you and Joel. There was a hint of guilt in her expression and in the way she slipped into the room.
“Joel,” she began, her voice low, almost cautious.
Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up, his hand still holding yours, as if to remind both Lori and himself who he was protecting. His gaze was icy, his anger barely contained.
“What are you doing here?” Joel’s voice was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth he had shown you moments before.
Lori shifted uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “I came to check on her,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady. “I wanted to see how she’s doing.”
“She’s not your concern,” Joel snapped, his words laced with bitterness. “You’ve done enough.”
Lori flinched at his harshness, but she didn’t back down. “I know I messed up, Joel. But I’m not here to make excuses. I just… I just needed to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Joel’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get to care now,” he said through gritted teeth. “You left her out there to die, Lori. You made your choice.”
Lori’s expression faltered, the guilt finally breaking through her resolve. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I can’t take back what I did. But I never wanted her to get hurt. I was just trying to protect everyone.”
“Protect?” Joel echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “You call that protecting? You abandoned her. You put her life at risk to save your own skin. That’s not protecting. That’s cowardice.”
“Okay. You’re right. I wanted her death or out of our lives.” She said, clearly ashamed of her actions.
Joel’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as Lori's confession hung in the air. The raw truth of her words sent a wave of cold fury through him, so intense that for a moment he couldn’t speak. His grip on the edge of the bed tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"You wanted her dead or gone?" Joel’s voice was low, barely more than a growl. Each word was laced with disbelief and anger. “And you think that makes it better? That somehow, admitting it makes what you did okay?”
Lori couldn’t meet his gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her shame. “No, it doesn’t. I was wrong, Joel. I see that now. I was selfish, and I let my fear get the better of me. But I never really wanted this—her lying there like this. I just didn’t know what to do.”
Joel stepped closer to her, his posture rigid with anger. “You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to let her die? Is that your excuse? She trusted you, Lori. We all did. And you betrayed her.”
Lori flinched as if his words had physically struck her. “I never wanted it to go this far,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.
“If you wanted revenge for how I ended things between us, you could hurt me, not her. She had nothing to do with all this mess.” He said, voice cracking.
Lori's eyes widened as Joel's words sank in, the reality of her actions hitting her like a punch to the gut. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her face as she looked at Joel, her expression a mixture of regret and sorrow.
"I wasn’t thinking straight, Joel," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was angry, hurt, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. But I swear, I never meant for her to get caught up in this. I was just so blinded by my own pain… I couldn’t see past it."
Joel shook his head, his own emotions a storm raging just beneath the surface. "You don’t get to hide behind your pain, Lori. We all have our demons, but what you did—what you almost cost me—it’s unforgivable."
“I know,” Lori whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “I let my anger control me, and I ended up hurting the person you care about most. I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed to say it. I was wrong, and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Sorry isn’t enough, Lori. Not for this. I almost lost her because of you. The only reason I’m standing here right now is because she fought like hell to survive. But what you did—" he broke off, his voice faltering as the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.
Lori wiped at her tears, nodding slowly. "You’re right. There’s nothing I can say or do to fix this. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right, even if it means leaving Jackson. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can make sure it never happens again."
Joel stared at her, his heart aching with the knowledge that the person who had once been a close ally had become a source of such deep betrayal. Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh. "I don’t care what you do, Lori. Whether you stay or go, it doesn’t matter to me. Just… stay away from her. If you really want to make amends, you stay out of her life."
Lori nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat, turning and leaving the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Joel watched her go, his heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep, unshakeable fear of what might have happened if he hadn’t found you in time.
As the door clicked shut, Joel’s gaze returned to you, lying so still and fragile in the bed. The anger that had fueled him moments ago began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming need to protect you, to never let anything come between you again.
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek. "I’m still here, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "And I’m not going anywhere.”
A few minute later, Dr. Ramirez entered the room quietly, her presence calm and reassuring. She approached the bedside with practiced ease, her eyes quickly scanning your vitals before she looked over at Joel. His hand was still resting on your cheek, and he didn’t move as the doctor began her examination.
"She’s stable," Dr. Ramirez said softly after a moment, her tone measured but gentle. "The worst is behind her now. But she needs time, Joel.
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "She’s been through hell," he muttered, his voice rough with the strain of the last few days. "I just… I just want her to wake up, to be okay."
Dr. Ramirez paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "I understand how hard this is for you. But you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. She’s going to need you when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty."
Joel finally tore his eyes away from you to meet Dr. Ramirez’s gaze. "I’m fine," he insisted, though the exhaustion etched into his features told a different story.
Dr. Ramirez sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "You’re not fine. You’ve been sitting here for days, barely eating or sleeping. She’s going to need you at your best, Joel. You can’t help her if you don’t take care of yourself."
Joel clenched his jaw, his gaze dropping back to you. "I can’t leave her," he said quietly, his voice laced with a deep-seated fear. "What if she wakes up and I’m not here? What if she needs me and I’m not…"
"She’s going to need you," Dr. Ramirez interrupted gently, "but she’s also going to need you strong. Trust me, Joel. We’ll take good care of her while you rest. Just a few hours, get something to eat, maybe sleep a little. It doesn’t mean you’re abandoning her."
Joel hesitated, torn between his overwhelming need to stay by your side and the doctor’s rational advice. Finally, he sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to deflate him. "Just a few hours," he agreed reluctantly. "But I’m not going far."
Dr. Ramirez gave him a small, understanding smile. "That’s all I’m asking. Go get some rest, Joel. She’ll be here when you get back, I promise."
Joel looked at you one last time, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I’ll be back soon," he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling landscape before you. The two of you had been out on patrol for hours, the silence between you heavy and tense, as it often was. Ever since Joel had been assigned as your partner, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You didn’t see eye to eye on much, and every patrol seemed like a test of patience.
But this time, something was different. Maybe it was the way the light hit the mountains in the distance, or the rare moment of peace that seemed to settle over the world, but you found yourself drawn to the view, momentarily forgetting the usual friction between you.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Joel. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, the colors of the sunset reflecting in them, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Joel, who had been keeping watch as usual, turned his head slightly at the sound of your voice. He followed your gaze to the landscape, expecting to feel the same cold detachment he always did, the necessity to focus on the mission, on survival.
But when he looked, his eyes didn’t linger on the mountains or the sky. Instead, they stayed on you. The way the fading light caught in your hair, the way your expression softened as you took in the beauty of the scene.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. For once, there was no edge to his tone, no underlying frustration or impatience. Just quiet, genuine agreement.
You turned to look at him, surprised to hear him agreeing with you for once. “Really?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice. “You think so?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than usual. “Yeah,” he repeated, his gaze steady, but there was something unspoken in his eyes, something that caught you off guard. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”
For a brief moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by something warmer, something almost tender. It was fleeting, barely lasting more than a few heartbeats, but it was enough to make your chest tighten.
Joel quickly looked away, clearing his throat as if to dispel the moment. “We should get moving,” he muttered, his usual gruffness returning as he adjusted the strap on his rifle.
“Right,” you agreed, returning to the task at hand. But as you resumed your patrol, the moment lingered in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Joel than you had thought.
Joel had been dreaming of you in his hours of sleep, the fleeting images pulling him into memories that felt too real. In his dreams, you weren’t lying in a bed, fighting to recover; you were beside him, alive and vibrant, with that same determined fire in your eyes that had always made him admire you, even when the two of you clashed.
In one dream, the two of you were back on patrol, your laughter echoing in the open air as you teased him about something trivial, your voice full of life. In another, you were at Jackson, sitting by the fireplace, your eyes locked onto his as you talked about your hopes for the future—a future he hadn’t dared to hope for until you came into his life.
But the dreams always ended the same way. You would start to fade, your voice growing distant, your figure slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He would reach out for you, only to find his arms empty, the warmth of your presence replaced by a cold, haunting emptiness.
And then, he would wake up, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes would immediately dart to you, lying so still in the bed, and he would lean in close, needing to hear the soft sound of your breathing to reassure himself that you were still with him.
The dreams left him feeling raw and exposed, the fear of losing you gnawing at him even in sleep. He couldn’t shake the image of you slipping away, couldn’t rid himself of the overwhelming sense of dread that had taken root in his heart.
Joel had been trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on his face. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to scrub away the exhaustion that clung to him. After three days of barely leaving your side, he had finally allowed himself a brief moment to freshen up, his mind still heavy with the images of his dreams.
The water did little to wash away the lingering fear, but he steeled himself, forcing his hands to stop trembling. He couldn’t afford to be weak now—not when you needed him to be strong. He dried his face, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath before heading back to the infirmary.
As he approached the door, the sound of soft laughter reached his ears. It was Ellie’s voice, her words light and teasing, and he could hear you responding, your voice soft but undeniably awake. A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You were awake. You were okay.
But when he stepped into the room, his heart lifting at the sight of you, his smile faltered. Ellie was perched on the edge of your bed, animatedly talking about something, her hands moving in excited gestures. And you—you were smiling at her, a faint but genuine smile that lit up your face in a way he hadn’t seen in days.
For a moment, he just stood there, watching the two of you. The sight of you smiling, your eyes bright with life, should have filled him with relief. But when your eyes flickered up to meet his, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by an expression he couldn’t quite read.
The air between you shifted, the lightness that had been in the room moments ago dissipating as the tension settled in its place. Ellie, oblivious to the change, continued to talk, but Joel’s attention was locked on you, searching your face for any hint of what you were feeling.
He took a tentative step forward, his hand twitching at his side as if he wanted to reach out to you, but something held him back. The way your smile had disappeared, the way you looked at him now with that guarded expression—it made him hesitate.
“Hey,” he finally said, his voice rougher than he intended. He tried to soften it, to push past the wall that seemed to have sprung up between you in those few seconds. “You’re awake.”
Ellie, noticing the shift in the room, glanced between the two of you before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll let you guys talk,” she said, shooting you a small smile before slipping out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving just the two of you in the room. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, and Joel struggled to find the right words to say.
“You’re looking better,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He took another step closer, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were in pain. “How are you feeling?”
You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket covering you.
“Better,” you replied, your voice soft and devoid of the warmth he had just heard when you were talking to Ellie.
Joel felt a pang in his chest at the distance in your tone, the way you seemed to be pulling away from him even though you were right there in front of him. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had opened up between you, but he didn’t know how.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, the words heavy with everything he hadn’t yet had the chance to say. But your reaction—or lack thereof—kept him from saying more.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the blanket in your lap, your hands still twisting the fabric. It was as if the connection between you had been severed, and Joel couldn’t figure out how to mend it.
He had spent three days by your side, terrified of losing you, and now that you were awake, he was faced with the fear that he had lost you in a different way. The warmth he had clung to, the hope he had nurtured while you were unconscious, now felt like it had been swept away by a cold, unrelenting storm.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Joel finally said, the words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He didn’t know what else to say, how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.
You looked up at him then, your eyes searching his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of the connection you once had. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something colder, something that made him feel as if the ground was slipping out from under him.
"No, you're not," you replied, your voice steady but edged with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. "You feel guilty."
Joel flinched at your words, but he couldn’t deny them. Guilt had been gnawing at him since the moment he had found you, bleeding and broken, on that floor. He had replayed every moment in his mind, every decision he had made, every step he had taken, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent this.
"I do," he admitted, his voice raw. "I feel guilty because I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. But I wasn’t, and you almost…"
He couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought of what could have happened too much to bear.
"But that’s not the same as being sorry," you said, your tone flat, as if you were trying to keep your emotions in check. "You’re not sorry that it happened; you’re just sorry that you feel this way."
Joel felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He had spent days agonizing over you, terrified of losing you, and now, faced with your coldness, he didn’t know what to do.
"I am sorry," he insisted, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture the depth of his regret, the overwhelming sorrow he felt for what you had gone through. "I’m sorry for all of it."
“I know what Lori was doing,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with pain. “She wanted me gone, and it’s because of something you caused.”
Joel felt the weight of his guilt press down on him even harder. He had suspected Lori’s intentions, had seen the tension between the two of you, but he hadn’t fully understood the depth of her animosity. Now, hearing it from you, he realized just how much he had failed to protect you—not just physically, but emotionally as well.
“I never wanted you to get caught up in that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I… I didn’t see how far she’d go. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t change what happened,” you replied, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I didn’t deserve to pay for your mistakes, Joel”
“Are you blaming me for this?” Joel asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. He didn’t want to let anger take over, but the disappointment and frustration were clear in his tone. He had come to terms with his own guilt, but hearing you lay the blame at his feet was like reopening a wound he thought he was beginning to heal.
You met his gaze, your eyes sharp with the pain of what you had endured. “I’m not blaming you for everything,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I can’t ignore the fact that your choices put me in danger.
Joel’s expression softened, the weight of your words hitting him like a blow. He knew you were right, but hearing it from you, seeing the pain in your eyes, made it all the more real. “I never wanted you to get hurt,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I could take it all back, I would.”
“But you can’t,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion in your eyes. “And now we’re here, dealing with the consequences.”
The room felt heavy with the tension between you, the silence stretching as both of you struggled to find the right words. Joel’s heart ached with the realization that no matter how much he wished he could go back and change things, the damage had been done.
“I didn’t deserve this, Joel,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of whatever you and Lori had going on. I was just… I was just trying to survive and help.”
Joel took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if you would welcome the gesture. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know it’s going to take time for you to feel safe again.”
You looked at him, your heart conflicted. The fear of being hurt again loomed large, but there was also a part of you that wanted to believe him, to trust that he could be the man he promised to be.
“I’m tired” you said finally, your voice softer now.
Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The weariness in your voice was palpable, not just from the physical toll of your injuries but from the emotional exhaustion that had been building for so long. He could see it in your eyes, the way they held a mixture of pain, fear, and uncertainty.
“I know you are,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired too.”
He wanted to close the distance between you, to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew that it wasn’t just physical closeness you needed. It was reassurance, a reason to believe that things could be different, that he could be different.
“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Joel continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were feeling. “But I’m here. I’ll stay right here, as long as you need just as I promise.”
You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made your heart ache, but the fear of letting him in again, of being vulnerable, was still there, holding you back.
Just as you were about to respond, the door creaked open, and Tommy stepped into the room, his presence a stark contrast to the heavy conversation that had just taken place. He glanced between you and Joel, sensing the tension in the air. His usually easygoing demeanor was replaced by a look of concern.
“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “How are you holding up?”
You offered him a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m… I’m okay,” you replied, though the truth was far more complicated.
Tommy nodded, his gaze shifting to Joel. There was a silent exchange between the two brothers, a shared understanding that didn’t need words. Tommy could see the toll the past few days had taken on both of you, and he knew how much Joel was struggling to keep it together.
“I thought I’d bring you some food,” Tommy said, holding up a thermos. “Figured you could be hungry.”
Joel managed a small, grateful smile, though the weight of your conversation still hung heavy in the room. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the tray from Tommy’s outstretched hand.
Tommy lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. “If you need anything… anything at all, just let me know, alright?”
You nodded, appreciating the offer but feeling too drained to respond with more than a simple acknowledgment.
Tommy hesitated, as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if it was his place. Finally, he clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he said quietly, the words carrying a deeper meaning than just a simple request.
Joel nodded, his grip tightening on the thermos. “I will,” he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.
With one last look at you, Tommy turned and left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once more. The door closed softly behind him, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.
You glanced at Joel, the conflict in your heart still unresolved. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything that had happened, of the pain you were still trying to process.
“Thank you” you managed to say, “For looking for me that night.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, though the tension in his shoulders remained. He nodded, the weight of the moment heavy between you. "I’d do it again," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "A thousand times over if I had to."
You looked down, your fingers nervously picking at the blanket draped over you. "I know I was angry," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And I still am, but… I also know you saved my life. I don’t want to ignore that."
He stepped closer, hesitating for just a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You don’t have to thank me," he said gently. "I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t come for you. You mean too much to me."
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them, but they also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still trying to untangle. "I’m just… trying to figure out how to move forward from here," you confessed, meeting his gaze.
Joel reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he finally took it, his grip warm and reassuring. “You know, I spent the last days beside you all the time, hoping to see your eyes opening again, I can wait a little bit more for you.” He said, smiling softly at you.
Joel's words were like a balm to the ache in your heart, the sincerity in his smile melting some of the walls you'd built around yourself. His hand, warm and steady around yours, was a reminder of the care and dedication he had towards you.
A few days later, you were finally released from the infirmary, but Dr. Ramirez had been clear about the need to rest and take things slow. Your body was still recovering, and any strenuous activity could set you back. Joel had been by your side when Dr. Ramirez gave the instructions, and you could feel his protective gaze on you the entire time, as if he was silently vowing to ensure you followed every word.
Back at your house in Jackson, the atmosphere was different. The air felt lighter, more relaxed, but there was also an unspoken tension between you and Joel. The words you had exchanged in the infirmary still lingered, and both of you were treading carefully, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace that had settled.
As you settled into the couch, Joel was close by, hovering just enough to make sure you were comfortable but giving you space to breathe. His presence was comforting, yet it also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still working through.
"Do you need anything?" Joel asked, his voice gentle as he watched you with concern.
You shook your head, offering him a small smile. "No, I’m okay. Just trying to adjust to being home again."
He nodded, his eyes softening as he took a seat on the chair across from you. "Take your time. You’ve been through a lot."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with the weight of unspoken thoughts. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, as if he was searching for something, waiting for you to say what was on your mind.
Finally, you broke the silence. "Joel… about what I said before, about trying to figure things out…"
He leaned forward slightly, his attention fully on you. "You don’t have to explain, sunshine. I get it. You’ve got a lot to process."
You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I do. But I want to ask you to do something.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What is it?"
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "I want you to talk to Lori."
The moment her name left your lips, you saw Joel’s expression darken, his posture stiffening. "Talk to Lori? After everything she did to you? Why the hell would I do that?"
You could hear the defensiveness in his voice, the way his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back a torrent of emotions.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I need you to do this for me. I’m not asking you toy forgive her or make excuses for what she did. It’s about getting closure.”
His eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. "Closure? How is talking to her going to give you closure? She nearly got you killed. I don’t want her anywhere near you."
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "I know you’re angry. I am too. But carrying this anger, this bitterness…but before you met me, she was the one you found- “
“It was nothing serious” he interrupted.
“Even if it was just that, Joel. She still deserves an apology from you.”
Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, the defensiveness in his posture only growing stronger. "An apology? After what she did to you, you want me to apologize to her?"
You nodded, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. "Yes, Joel. She made a terrible mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt her too. She was in your life before I was, and even if it wasn’t serious, it clearly meant something to her. And when things ended between you two, it left her with feelings she didn’t know how to handle."
He looked away, his jaw clenching as he processed your words. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.
"I know that," you replied softly. "But maybe that’s why it’s even more important that you talk to her. She made a mistake, a huge one, but she was reacting out of hurt and anger. And maybe, just maybe, hearing an apology from you could help her start to heal too."
Joel’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him. He looked back at you, his expression conflicted. "I don’t know if I can do that," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Apologizing… it feels like I’m excusing what she did, and I can’t do that."
Joel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded. "Alright," he finally said, his voice low. "I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize. But I’m doing it for you, because I want to make things right with you."
You gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. That’s all I’m asking."
He reached out, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "I just hope this helps us find some peace," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of hope. "Because I don’t want to lose you."
Joel wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Lori, but he knew it was necessary. As he approached her in the stables, where she was tending to the horses, he felt the weight of what you’d asked him to do pressing on his shoulders. The earthy scent of hay and the soft sounds of the horses moving around only added to the heaviness in his chest. He took a deep breath and walked over; his steps heavy with uncertainty.
“Lori,” he called out softly, causing her to look up from grooming a horse. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions flickering across her face as she saw him.
“Joel,” she replied, setting the brush down. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk,” he said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “About everything that happened.”
Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was bracing herself for whatever he was about to say. “Go on, then.”
Joel hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know things between us ended badly, and I never meant for you to get hurt. What happened with her… it’s not all your fault. I had a part in it too.”
Lori’s expression softened, a look of surprise crossing her features. “You’re apologizing?” she asked, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” Joel admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I am. I messed up, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting until it was too late. I should have handled things better, and I’m sorry for the pain it caused you.”
Lori looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Finally, she let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I appreciate that, Joel,” she said quietly. “I’ve been carrying a lot of anger, and maybe… maybe I was looking for someone to blame. But hearing you say this… it helps.”
Joel nodded, relieved that the conversation seemed to be going in a positive direction. “I just want to put all this behind us,” he said. “For everyone’s sake.”
Lori stepped closer, her expression softening further. “I want that too,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his arm. “And… I’m sorry too, for everything.”
Before Joel could react, Lori leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. But the kiss lingered, her lips brushing dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He stiffened, pulling back slightly, but not before the moment had passed.
“Lori…” he started, his voice filled with warning, but his words were cut off as he saw something behind her.
You stood at the entrance to the stables, your expression one of disappointment and hurt. You hadn’t meant to interrupt, but you’d come looking for Joel, wanting to check in on how the conversation was going. Instead, you found yourself witnessing a moment that twisted the knife in your heart.
Joel immediately took a step back from Lori, his eyes wide with panic as he realized you had seen the kiss. “It’s not what it looks like,” he called out, his voice desperate to reach you.
But you turned on your heel and walked away, the sting of what you’d just seen too much to bear. You didn’t want to hear his explanation; the image of Lori’s lips so close to his was enough to leave you feeling betrayed.
Joel cursed under his breath, quickly following after you, but the damage was done.
Joel raced after you, his heart pounding as he tried to close the distance. “Wait, please!” he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet of the stables and beyond.
You didn’t slow down, your steps quick and determined as you headed for the path leading away from the stables. The pain of what you’d seen burned too fiercely for you to face him right now. The image of Lori’s kiss and the confusion it brought was overwhelming.
Joel caught up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “Just… just let me explain,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps. “I didn’t want her to do that, I swear.”
You pulled your arm away from him, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Joel, I’m tired of the explanations,” you said, your voice shaky. “Every time I try to trust you, something happens that makes me question it all over again. I need time to sort through all this, but I can’t do that if I’m constantly reminded of why I shouldn’t trust you.”
Joel looked at you with desperation and hurt, his eyes pleading. “I know I messed up, but I’m trying here. I really am. I wanted to make things right with Lori as you asked me, so we could move on, but I didn’t expect—”
“Expect what?” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “Expect her to still have feelings for you? Or expect that you’d have to be in her presence and make her feel like she has a chance? It’s all too much.”
You paused, your voice breaking as the weight of everything you’d been feeling crashed over you. “That woman is crazy… she tried to kill me and I’m… I’m just so tired of all this, Joel. I can’t… I can’t keep dealing with this.”
The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The emotional toll of the past few days had left you feeling utterly drained, and the sight of Joel and Lori together had pushed you to the edge.
Joel’s heart ached at the sight of you so distressed. Without a second thought, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of his own heartache. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
“I want her to leave Jackson” you said.
Joel’s grip on you tightened at your words, his mind racing as he processed your request. “You want her to leave Jackson?” he repeated, his voice filled with surprise “I know things between us are… complicated right now, but asking her to leave—”
“It’s not about me,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “It’s about feeling safe. I can’t be here, knowing she’s so close. I need to know she’s not a threat anymore to me or anyone else.”
Joel took a deep breath, the weight of your request pressing heavily on him. He understood the need for safety, for closure, but he also knew that asking Lori to leave Jackson would have its own set of consequences.
“I’ll talk to Tommy,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’ll see what can be done. If it’s what you need to feel safe, then I’ll make it happen.”
Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.
Joel nodded; his expression resolute. “I understand. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not left with that fear. You deserve peace, and I’m going to make sure you get it.”
The community meeting took place in the main hall, a space that had seen its share of important decisions and discussions over the years. Joel and Tommy, along with other key figures in Jackson, gathered to address the situation with Lori.
The room was filled with a murmur of conversations as people took their seats. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of concern and frustration hanging in the air. Joel stood near the front; his expression serious as he prepared to present the situation.
“Alright, folks,” Tommy began, stepping up to the makeshift podium. “We’re here to discuss the situation with Lori and decide on the next steps. We’ve heard from Joel, and we all know what’s been going on.”
Joel took a deep breath and began speaking. “I know this is a difficult situation. Lori’s actions have put everyone in a tough spot, and I understand that emotions are running high. I’ve spoken with her, and she’s expressed remorse, but the fact remains that her actions have put someone we care about in danger.”
He paused, looking around at the gathered community. “I’m asking for your input on what should be done. I know this isn’t an easy decision, but we need to ensure the safety and well-being of everyone in Jackson.”
The room fell silent as people considered their options. Various community members began to speak up, each sharing their thoughts and concerns. Some were in favor of asking Lori to leave Jackson, citing the need for safety and closure. Others worried about the implications of such a decision, considering her past contributions to the community and the potential impact on morale.
After a series of discussions and arguments, the group came to a consensus. The final vote was cast, and the majority agreed that Lori would need to leave Jackson. This decision was based on the overwhelming need to ensure the safety of the community and to address the trauma caused by her actions.
As the meeting concluded, the decision was communicated to Lori. She was given a set amount of time to pack her belongings and prepare to leave. The community had made its choice, and while it wasn’t easy, it was necessary for the greater good.
Joel and Tommy left the meeting feeling a mix of relief and sadness. They knew it was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made for the sake of the community’s well-being and your peace of mind.
After the meeting, Joel went to find Lori. He found her packing her things in a small room, her movements mechanical as she sorted through her belongings. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of her clothes and a few muffled sobs.
“Lori,” Joel said gently as he approached her.
Lori looked up, her face a mask of resignation and pain. “So, it’s really happening,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”
Joel nodded; his expression somber. “Yeah. The community decided it was the best thing to do. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s what needed to happen.”
Lori’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just… I wanted to protect myself, and it spiraled out of control. I’m sorry.”
Joel sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I know you’re sorry. And I understand why you acted the way you did, even if it was wrong. I just hope you can find a way to make things right for yourself.”
Lori gave a small, bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I can. But I guess I’ll have to try.”
Joel glanced around the room, unsure of what more to say. “If you need any help getting ready or finding somewhere to go, let me know. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be.”
Lori nodded, wiping her tears away. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”
With a final look at Lori, Joel turned and walked away, his heart heavy. He found Tommy waiting outside the room, and together they made their way to the main area of Jackson.
As Joel walked through the community, he saw people going about their daily routines, the weight of the decision beginning to settle in. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The decision to expel Lori had been necessary, but it left a lingering discomfort in the air.
When he finally found you, sitting in a quiet corner of the community center, he approached with a cautious but hopeful expression. “Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to let you know that Lori’s getting ready to leave. It’s happening, just like we talked about.”
You looked at him, the strain of the past few days still evident in your eyes. “Okay,” you said quietly. “I just… I hope she can find peace or whatever she’s looking for.”
Joel reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I hope so too. And I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m here. We’ll get through this together.”
You stood up abruptly, your hand slipping from Joel’s grasp. “I promised Maria, I’d help her with something,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of determination and avoidance. “I should go now.”
Joel’s gaze followed you, his concern evident. “Wait, hold on. I know you’re trying to distance yourself again,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and pleading. “We can talk this out. I thought we were making progress.”
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “I just… I need some space right now. There’s a lot to process, and I don’t want to keep having these conversations when I’m not ready. I’m trying to figure things out, and it’s hard to do that with everything so fresh.”
Joel’s expression softened, a mix of understanding and hurt crossing his face. “I get it. I really do. But shutting me out won’t make things easier. I want to be here for you, to help you through this. Running away from me or pushing me away won’t solve anything.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m-I’m not running away from you, Joel.”
Joel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m not trying to complicate things. I just want to be part of the solution, not the problem. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t shut me out completely. I care too much to let you go through this alone.”
You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your resolve waver. “I appreciate that, Joel. But I need to go”
Joel’s expression hardened, though his eyes still held a flicker of hurt. “Okay,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “If that’s what you need, I’ll back off.”
You could feel the sting of his words, a mix of anger and resignation in his voice. You nodded, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you for understanding.”
As you turned to leave, Joel’s gaze followed you, a mixture of frustration and sadness etched on his face. The conversation had left both of you in a raw, vulnerable state, and the air between you was heavy with unresolved emotions.
As night settled over Jackson, the streets grew quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. You wandered aimlessly, torn between the invitation from Tommy and Maria and the thought of returning to your own space. The uncertainty of your feelings and the tension with Joel weighed heavily on your mind.
Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.
Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.
“Are you going to Tommy’s?” Joel asked, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness.
You nodded slowly. “I don’t know.”
“Why?” Joel asked, his tone sharp. “Because I’m going?”
His question hung in the air, charged with the tension between you. You could see the frustration and hurt etched on his face, and it made you realize how deeply conflicted he was.
“No,” you said quietly, though the weight of your uncertainty was clear. “I just... I need to figure things out.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “Figure things out? You know, every time I try to make things right, it feels like I’m just making them worse.”
“It’s not just about you,” you said, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s about me, too. I need to figure out what I want.”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, his gaze shifting away for a moment. “I get that you need space, but it feels like you’re avoiding me, avoiding what’s between us.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” you replied, your voice cracking.
Joel’s eyes softened slightly, though the hurt was still evident. “Look, if you want to go to Tommy’s, then go. But don’t use it as an excuse to push me away. I’m here, and I’m trying to be part of this, part of us.”
Joel’s frustration reached a boiling point as he shouted, “Every time we made progress, you just pushed it all away because you’re afraid! You’re acting like a coward!”
You flinched at his raised voice, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “Why? For protecting myself from you?” you snapped back, feeling the sting of his words.
Joel’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desperation. “Oh my god! What do you want me to do? You almost died, I could die, and you’re putting all of this on hold because you’re scared instead?” His voice was strained, almost out of breath.
You felt a sharp pang of hurt at his accusation. “Well, that’s one person less to cry over for you,” you shot back, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into your tone.
Joel’s face darkened with anger and frustration. “You’re a fucking— I’m done.” His words were cut short as he struggled to control his emotions.
The anger in Joel’s voice only made you cry harder, the tears flowing freely now. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I love you, Joel. I really do, so much. But everything always ends with me in the dark, sobbing all alone because people I love leave or die and I don’t want you to die.”
Joel’s face softened at your tears, his anger melting away into a pained expression. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he wiped away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he said, his voice breaking.
"I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and I won't die for you. I'll live for you, I'll carry all for you," he said, his voice full of raw emotion.
"Joel..." you started, but your words faltered, lost in the storm of feelings between you.
"Listen to me, you will never be alone again," he reassured, his voice filled with a desperate promise.
You didn't answer, just looking down at your boots, feeling Joel’s gaze burning with sadness and fury, a mix of emotions that felt like daggers dressed in words.
Joel sighed, hopelessness dripping from his voice. "Okay." He said, giving up on you.
"I fell in love with Joel who was charismatic and kind, the one I know you're capable of being but hide because you’re afraid of seeing those colors in yourself again," you said softly. "And I even love the grumpy one a bit, but—"
"But?" Joel prompted, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Please don’t—"
"I love you so much, and I want to say sorry for not realizing before," he said, the confession slipping out as you looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “I love you” he repeated, “and I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the one who can stand beside you, not just in the good times, but in the hard ones too.”
You looked everywhere but him, not uttering a word. Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to resignation as he began to turn away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Just as he was about to step back, feeling the cold sting of the night air, you made a sudden, impulsive move. Without thinking, you reached out and closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.
The shock of the kiss jolted Joel into stillness. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, as if trying to process what was happening. But then, the tension in his body melted away, and he responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The kiss was a blend of longing, frustration, and the deep love that had been building between you.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the raw intensity of the moment lingering in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.
"I promise I won't forget this kiss," you said softly, recalling the meaning behind that statement
Joel’s eyes softened as he gazed at you with intensity and desire. “You’re coming home with me,” he said firmly, leaning in and kissing you again.
Once he finally managed to unlock the door of his house, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth and familiarity of his home wrapping around you.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Joel turned to face you, his expression soft and filled with a deep, lingering emotion. Without a word, he took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the last of your tears. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours once more, this kiss tender and filled with all the words he couldn’t quite say.
You responded, your arms winding around his neck as you melted into the kiss. It was a kiss of promises and newfound hope, a kiss that spoke of the love you shared and the future you were ready to face together. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a contented smile on Joel’s lips.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”
You smiled; your heart full. “I’ve missed you too, Joel. More than you know.”
Joel's smile lingered for just a moment before he leaned in once more, capturing your lips with his. You responded eagerly, your arms tightening around his neck as you lost yourself in the moment.
Soon the both of you were inside Joel’s bedroom, you laying on your back with him on top. Your shirt was on the floor, along with his shirt and jeans. You felt a sudden warmth spreading up on your cheeks at the thought of your fresh scar resting on your abdomen.
Joel looked at you with concern as he followed your gaze. His eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the scar as if to trace the memories you had built.
“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth, “this scar doesn’t change a thing about how I see you. You’re absolutely perfect to me, just the way you are.”
You looked at him, your heart swelling at his words. Despite the physical reminder of what you’d been through, his reassurance made you feel cherished and beautiful. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, genuine affection that made the pain of the past seem a little less sharp.
Joel's eyes met yours again, full of tenderness. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, stronger than ever.”
You smiled softly, touched by his words. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, slowly moving down your neck, your chest, finally reaching the scar, planting a kiss over it.
You felt treasured. Your nipples were hard and begging to be brushed, something Joel was aware of since he needed you all over again. He shortly sucked on a nipple, arching your back and grasping your tights with his own. The lust had completely taken control of you, and now every part of you yearned his touch.
Joel pulled his mouth away to look at you, raising his palm to trace your face with his thumb. "I love you," he kissed your forehead then your cheek. "I love you," he whispered, kissing both your lips and neck.
"And I love you too." You whispered, and a smile spread across your face as you took a look of him. “Now can you please finish what you started or I swear- “
Your words were cut by Joel taking your lips on his mouth again, muttering “I love you” again, before pulling your jeans down as you did the same with his.
He pushed your thighs apart and stepped between them while slowly guiding himself inside you. The feeling of fullness and stretch were both familiar and foreign. You hadn’t had him in weeks that turned into months, and now he felt massive. When he was all the way inside, a heavy groan got stuck in his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours, his mouth hung open and his face twisted.
"God, you feel so good," he gasped. "I could just come right now."
Your laughter rang through your chest as he moved. The consuming pleasure made you both tremble. Then he increased up the pace and rammed quicker. He was thrilled, and he could feel himself becoming thicker and fuller inside you. You were struggling to breathe, but your hips were bucking to encourage him to move quicker. And so, he did, providing you precisely what you asked for.
He moved one hand down to your hip, his head leaning forward to grasp your lips in a passionate kiss as he pounded harder toward the orgasm. You could feel the heat spread throughout your body like a blaze, and his finger toyed with your clit, heightening the pleasure on your body. Your eyes began to flutter, and your nails scratched down his back. Joel bit your neck, hearing filthy moans escaping your lips as he felt himself reaching the edge. Soon, your head felt back, and a loud groan erupted from your mouth as the two of you reached your release.
Your entire body went numb as Joel lay down next to you.
“I don’t want to move.” You spoke, unable to move.
his warmth radiating through the space between you. As you lay there, unable to move, he settled down next to you with a relaxed, contented smile.
“Don’t worry about moving,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “We can just stay here, right where we are. No need to rush or do anything.”
His hand found yours, fingers lacing with yours in a gentle, reassuring grip. He adjusted his position so he was facing you, his smile never fading.
You glanced at him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. He leaned down to kiss you. Joel’s lips brushed against yours with a tender, lingering kiss, conveying all the love and reassurance he felt for you.
Joel’s lips lingered on yours for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze soft and caring. “Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern and tenderness.
You nodded, the aftermath exhaustion finally catching up with you. Joel’s smile grew as he gently kissed your forehead. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable.”
He carefully slipped out of bed and retrieved a soft t-shirt from his drawer. He helped you change into it, his touch tender and careful. Once you were settled, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bed.
With a practiced ease, Joel placed you gently under the covers, ensuring you were tucked in warmly. He then slid in beside you, pulling the blankets up to your chin.
He looked at you with a mix of love and concern. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”
You snuggled into the warmth and comfort of the bed, feeling secure with Joel beside you.
The morning light crept softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke before Joel, the stillness of the room only adding to the quiet tension you felt. As you lay there, you couldn’t shake the lingering fear from the last time you had been so close to him. The thought that he might wake up and not remember you again, or that things might somehow go back to the way they were, gnawed at you.
You turned your head to watch Joel sleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. His breathing was steady, and the sight of him lying there, so calm and content, was both comforting and nerve-wracking. The fear of losing this moment, of it slipping away like before, was overwhelming.
Joel stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slowly began to wake. His eyes fluttered open, and for a few seconds, he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and grogginess. Your heart raced, the fear of seeing him slip back into a disconnected state making your breath catch in your throat.
But then, as his eyes fully opened and he focused on you, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.
💌 tags: @dreamtofus @paperstarzzz @chewie-bars @hotleaf-juice
@riedswifts @dizzyforyou @prideandaesthetic @chateaujoon
@18dmlk @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @frogjumps-world @camy-nyancat @sarahhxx03 @jasminedragoon @cuteanimalmama @eleganthottubfun @skysmiller @nana90azevedo @astralqueenoc
@missladym1981 @persephone-girl @darka-moon @beltzboys2015-blog @sptbear @joelsteinfeld @astralqueenoc @bishtrouille
@locaparapedrito @wolfbook87 @picketniffler @axelspin @pedrotease @riedswifts @mclibs23 @feliciab1990 @swornkisses @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kirsteng42 @lostfleurs @guelyury @devonispunk @harriedandharassed @wolfbook87 @niffala @animechik555 @gypsystarchaser42 @geralallfandoms @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @goodvibesonly421 @negansbestie @bambisweethearts @jessthebaker @tuquoquebrute
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal
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cursed : azriel x reader
in which azriel has a crush on a witch, and thinks she cursed him.
warnings: none (unedited)
word count: 1.4k
“She’s quite the character huh?” Cassian says to Azriel, staring at you. He grunts in response wondering why you are currently in a handstand competition with a couple of kids in the middle of town. Kind of in awe how your little black dress didn't fall down to your face with you being upside down, but that's a perk of being a witch, he thinks.
As if you heard them talking about you, your gaze finds theirs. You grin and then lose balance and gracefully fall out of the handstand. It being the last day of summer did make it a cool one but still having been outside with a summer camp of kids you were quite dewy with sweat. Your face was flushed and damp as you made your way towards the two men.
“Hi Cassian!” You say with a grin, you turn and look at Azriel, your smile falling into a smaller one. “Spymaster.” You nod. Cassian lets a chuckle slip through at Az’s blank face. You were always like this with him. He never fully understood why. You kept him at a distance always but managed to be involved in every one else’s business. He often thought it was because you could not stand him. And then he thought you were terrified of him, because let’s face it, that was more believable.
You were making small talk with Cassian when Azriel started to get lost in his mind thinking of you and how it seemed you teased him on occasion. With your little quips here and there. Constantly smelling like those fresh baked chocolate-chip muffins that were his guilty pleasure to eat when he got back from long missions
He noticed eventually that Cassian had walked away from you two when a group of kids started playing tag with him. He turned to look at you where you decided to sit on the grass, he made a quick decision to sit next to you. Both of you were silent, but for once it was comfortable.
The path leading up to your small little house on the bank of the Sidra was always well lit at night. Glowing with purple and orange lanterns their reflection makes it seem brighter than it was that night. Your house was on the smaller side (still fairly large all considering.) But you loved to host seasonal parties due to them being in connection with your magic and since summer was ending and fall was starting, it was the perfect time to throw one of your celebrations.
Currently the Inner Circle is in your living room drinking and eating food you have made for them. Your familiar, Silly the tabby cat, has made their home on Azriel’s lap. He doesn’t seem to mind though. Gently petting the cat's soft fur. You stare at them from the kitchen with a soft smile on your face.
“You could just tell him you know.” Nesta says from behind you, scaring the absolute shit out of you. You place a hand over your chest and let out a deep breath. “Nesta, I’m going to put a bell on you.” She laughs lightly as you scrunch up your nose.
“I am not joking though.” She says softly, and you look back at him now playing with Silly on the couch. “He can’t even stand to be in the same room as me for more than ten minutes. There is no way I could tell him how I feel.” She hums in response.
“I think you’d be surprised.” And then she walks back out to sit with Cassian. You did deeply care about Azriel, borderline loved him. You felt connected to him in a way you couldn’t describe, just that your soul was at peace with him. Your magic proved that theory too. It sometimes appears to you in colorful hazes around people.
Every color had a different meaning, the majority of the Inner Circle had a warm orange around them. Your magic had to be newer or just not have a written history because there is barely any research on what these colors mean. However, you chalked it up to orange meaning some of the most important people in your life. Azriel though, he had a beautiful blue humming around him almost constantly for you, and you had no idea what that meant.
You must have been lost in thought for a while because the next person to scare you was Rhys with Nyx on his hip. He was building another plate for Feyre and Nyx to pick off of.
“You okay?” He asked you softly. Nyx’s grubby hands reaching for the fresh food on the plate, you and Rhys both grin at that. You nod your head in response to his earlier question.
“Maybe ask him to hang out with you?” He says, like it's that easy. You shake your head, “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to try.” You watch him leave the kitchen and decide it's time to do the same.
You follow Rhys back into your living space, where it's warm of laughter and love. You sit down on the only open seat, which happens to be on the couch next to Azriel. Silly runs over to your lap and demands petting. You look down at the orange cat with love and when you look back up you meet Azriel’s puzzled stare.
“What?” You ask him softly, nudging the cat off your lap gently. You turn to fully face him when he abruptly stands up. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards the outside.
“We will be back.” He says gruffly towards everybody, dragging you along.
“Please for the love of Mother, take your time.” Cassian says with a cheeky grin, “We have bets placed.” to which earns him a vulgar gesture from both you and Azriel.
When you go outside he drags you closer to the river and further from the house. Probably to avoid prying ears and eyes, but with everyone’s magic you go ahead and place a sound proofing spell over the two of you.
“Is everything alright Azriel?” You ask him after a moment of silence. He turns back around to look at you with something close to… fear?
“So, what is it?” You look at him deadpanned and tilt your head in confusion.
“What spell did you place on me? Why, when I go to sleep I think about how I hope you had a good day. When I wake up I wonder if you actually ate breakfast and not forgetting after you have your morning coffee. And tonight, I wonder where you go when this party is mainly in celebration for you and I am busy playing with your cat and not with you.” He gets out in one breath. I stare at him for a moment and when I open my mouth he interrupts me again,
“Why is it when you are near my hands shake less and my worries ease but when you are gone I crave your scent. What curse? What spell?” Azriel genuinely looks shaken for a moment, and for a second so do you.
“I didn’t know you felt that way too, Azriel.” You say and approach him with a soft smile. When you guys finally make eye contact though something inside you both, snaps. Your eyes widen and so do his. Mate.
You let out a little giggle that eventually turns into a full laugh. “You thought I cursed you?” You say through giggles, “I thought you hated me Az.”
“Ah, well that goes both ways.” He responded with a smile. You look at him in confusion. “I could never hate you.”
“You couldn’t stand to be near me.” He quips back.
“No. You couldn’t stand to be near me.” You say and jokingly sniff at him. He shakes his head and grins. “We are both stupid.” You nod your head in agreement.
“A couple of stupid mates, huh.” You look up at him, now leaning shoulder to shoulder.
“Yeah something like that.” And then he kisses you.
Warm lips slotting over yours softly, you both start getting a little more heated with each other. Hands finding their way into your hair while yours go around his neck. His lips softly biting yours and then pulling away. You arch and reach up on your tiptoes in a feat of chasing his lips. He grins at you, puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses your nose.
“Let’s go back inside.” He whispers and leans back, as if he’s afraid that this will all be a dream if one of you speaks too loudly.
“I am kicking everyone out the minute we get back inside.” You whisper back and kiss his collar bone.
“That sounds great to me.” he says and with that you both walk back to your house holding hands.
a/n: so this was completely self indulgent, I wanted a cozy azriel fic!
please tell me what you think!
I don't own any characters that sarah j. mass created.
#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel x yn#azriel spymaster#acotar fluff#acotar fanfiction#cozy azriel fanfic
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sleepin next to her ellie williams drabble
read this
synopsis: u met ellie after the epilogue, now she's ur gf and u 2 deal w ur past trauma and sleeping problems.
cw: poor, like v poor, writing. fluff as usual!!! not angst but angsty? not so healthy attachment id say haha...
a/n: heavily inspired by back to you by frank ocean ft nikki flores and in a good way by faye webster!!!
ellie had already gone through so much when u met her, alone and hopeless like a lost child. over time u and ellie became each other's safe place, each other's comfort. so much u could say u were clingy as hell...
u were both always scared, of everything, but mostly of losing each other. that was a constant in ur relationship, which took time to begin, ellie was terrified of being in a relationship, of getting attached to someone, of happiness, comfort and loving. u were scared that u scared her too, that she'd run away from u and from ur feelings.
she wasn't scared of u though. she yearned to be next to u, all the time. she'd leave the house thinking about coming back to u, she'd get food thinking about sharing it with u. she'd go to sleep, hoping u'd feature her dreams.
her dreams, ellie had constant nightmares. reminders of her past and tellings of her future, she was also scared to sleep. u'd always fall asleep first, but u felt guilty u did so, because u knew of her nightmares. u had night terrors, waking up in fear, guilt and worry. u loved ur girl too much to ever leave her by herself.
"i'm okay... u can go back to sleep, babe." she'd kiss ur forhead and soothe ur face with her calloused hands, calming u down in seconds and sending all the fears away.
she'd sing song her own lyrics to u as u fell back asleep. u and ellie never slept with ur backs turned to each other, face to face. she was the first thing u saw in the morning and u were the first thing she saw, nevermind the sun rising behind u, she'd never notice, u are her sourse of light. she'd forget all about the dark future she thought waited for her, because she saw a bright one on your face.
when she wasn't able to fall asleep, she'd just watch u sleep, making sure u felt safe. sometimes u'd force her to close her eyes and grab her hands, caressing her palms, fingers and the knuckles on her missing ones. u kissed every scar as u loved her entirely. two grown ups still acting like kids, clinged to each other as if u were each other's teddy bear.
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#lover girl!ellie#ellie imagine#ellie x masc reader#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams blurb#ellie drabble#angsty fluff#ellie fluff#ellie angst#ellie williams angst#ellie williams fluff
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The Arcana HCs: When M6 are forced to attack MC
-- to set the scene --
It was a nightmare.
Thick clouds of miasma hung over the city as you and your lover confronted the sorcerer in the fields outside its walls. Between a series of traps and some well-placed taunts, you had successfully cornered them, which meant that while victory was in sight your opponent was down to their last desperate measure.
The measure in question, it seemed, was for the most horrifying three minutes of your life as you watched your lover struggle against a vicious spell before suddenly turning on you. Their usual loving gaze was replaced with a cold glare and they didn't hesitate to lunge at you with the intent to kill. You ended up choosing to take the hits and focus your energy on dealing the last blow to the evil sorcerer instead, not wanting to waste time hurting the one you love.
As the dust settles, you're too relieved to see cognizance return to your darling's face to notice their horrified expression, or to feel your own blood soaking the ground below you.
Julian
Too busy focused on trying to keep you conscious and heal you to do anything else at first. He's already crying, tears leaking from under his eyepatch as he gives you frantic first aid
Can barely bring himself to look at you once you're safely tucked in at Mazelinka's and being tended to by visitor after visitor. You will need to remind him day after day that it's not his fault
And, yes, convince him not to leave you because of it
Still won't be able to find any peace with it until you tell him you've forgiven him, and even then struggles to believe he's worthy of it
Tends obsessively to your wounds, in a weird combination of torturing himself by constantly checking them and redeeming himself by being the one to help his uncontrolled actions heal
Is able to hold it against himself less the less he sees you suffering. Once you're fully recovered and back on your feet, it feels more like a distant nightmare
Has a new interest in learning magic, if only enough so he can protect himself against behind hijacked like that in the future
Asra
Completely numb and on autopilot. You're hurt. They're going to do whatever it takes to fix that. Just hold on, it'll be okay - it'll be okay
Refuses to leave your side or sleep for very long at a time while you're recovering. It's like his world has narrowed to your survival
Unusually quiet. As in, barely speaks unless you speak to them first, and yet hyper-observant to the point that they're bringing you what you need before you even realize that you need it
Neglects everything beyond his own basic self-maintenance in the process. It's easier to forget himself and save his own pain and guilt to be processed until after he knows you're safe
Itching to heal over any scars left over and terrified of suggesting it and seeming like they just want to brush the whole thing aside
Has to be pushed to talk about it and won't open up until after you're completely back to normal, at which point he breaks down and spends an afternoon hiccuping "I'm sorry"s into your chest
Regresses to a lot of their previous boundaries until you can tell them that you still feel safe with them physically and emotionally
Nadia
She has no doubts about you being a strong person. While she's horrified at what her body was used to do to you and the injuries you sustained, she's most upset at her losing control so easily
She feels guilty for you getting hurt, because she's convinced that she should have been able to withstand the sorcerer's spell
Surely, if she loved you as truly as you deserve to be loved, she would've been able to break free or stop it from working
Carries you back to the Palace herself and sees to it that you have everything you could possibly need, before effectively avoiding you for the next few days. She's convinced your relationship is over
Either because you're leaving her for not being able to protect you, or because you've lost your respect for her as a partner
It's also tapping into her own trauma of being trapped inside her body for a three year coma, which doesn't help the frustration
Genuinely unsure what to do with your forgiveness, understanding, and continued love and admiration for her
She doesn't know what she did to deserve you but she loves you
Muriel
The first count he holds against himself is that he hurt you. The second count is that he was so horrified and traumatized by what just happened that he froze while you were still bleeding out
Thankfully there were other people present to help you out, and you didn't have to find out what could've gone wrong
Refuses to touch you for days. If anybody else had caused the damage he sees on your body, he'd be wishing hell on them. Except not only was it his hands that did it -
He was controlled that easily. He's spent years reclaiming control and ownership of his body after being made a spectacle of in the Coliseum, and in a flash it was all taken away from him again
And it was used to hurt you. None of his nightmares adds up to the combination of violated, afraid, and horrified that he just felt
Relegates himself to being your bodyguard and keeping you provided for, but terrified that you're not safe around him until you're able to convince him otherwise
It's still a reoccurring nightmare for years to come
Portia
So angry at you for not fighting back
Already crying and scolding you while she's putting pressure on your wounds to stop the bleeding and helping you get back home
Did you think she couldn't take it? Did you think she wanted you to get hurt at her hands? Why didn't you fight her back if it would have spared you so much pain?
Why didn't you help her enforce what you knew were her own wishes, and at the cost of your safety and well-being too?
Simultaneously dedicating every fibre in her body to taking care of you. If you so much as breathe a little differently she's checking you over and bringing you whatever you need
Eventually able to find her own healing by being able to accept your love and by beating the absolute crap out of the sorcerer in question until she gets an "I was wrong" out of them
Determined to learn defense and protection magic to makes sure neither of you is left that vulnerable, ever again
Still cries when she sees the leftover scars, sometimes
Lucio
Pale from the shock of what's just happened and trying not to panic as he gives you all the first aid he's picked up through years of battlefield injuries and experience
Frantically muttering "don't leave, don't leave" through clenched teeth and pouring tears while he tries to get the bleeding to stop
Rushes you to the nearest doctor and won't leave your side
Convinced that you're not going to be able to love him after this
He knows he's done things worse than this in the past. He knows that you know that, but the thing that's made a better life possible has been his commitment to not being that person any more
And now he was that person. Event though it wasn't his choice and technically not his fault, he still did it. To you. You experienced it
Also worried that you won't understand that it wasn't his fault this time and wondering if maybe it was his fault, somehow
Able to accept your love and forgiveness pretty easily, but has a much harder time believing that he didn't lose all the progress he's made so far in making good use of his fresh start on life
#ask arcana brainrot#the arcana#the arcana headcanons#the arcana hc#the arcana game#asra the arcana#julian the arcana#nadia the arcana#muriel the arcana#portia the arcana#lucio the arcana#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson
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Uhm... Surprise!
Summary: You are Rosinante's secret wife, hidden away under Sengoku's protection. He shows up in the middle of you putting together a nursery, ruining your surprise.
Just a lil something sweet for Rosinante. I just finished Dressrosa, and this poor, dumb, gangly limbed man has stolen my heart. He's such a sweet one.
Masterlist
You are in the middle of painting the walls a soft pink, the same color that Rosi likes to wear, when you hear the front door hit the wall and the sound of your husband's voice echoing through the house.
"Honey, I'm home!"
You curse quietly and carefully climb down the step ladder you're on. You are glad you decided to change into a baggy sweater and leggings before beginning to paint. It would hide your baby bumb. However, hiding the rest of the room would be the biggest problem.
You fast walk out of the nursery, shutting the door behind you, before you go to meet your husband. Rosinante lights up the second he sees you, a big smile crossing his lips as he opens his arms and sweeps them around you.
"There you are. I thought you were hiding from me."
You laugh with a shake of your head, "Nope. Was just cleaning up. Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you were going to he gone for another two months?"
Your husband beams at you, "My brother sent me away cause I "annoyed him. " Sengoku said that I could spend my first two weeks away with you."
Rosi immediately notices the strain around your lips and the tension that lines your brow. You are happy that he's home, of course you are, but you also had a surprise for him. One you wanted to be perfect.
"Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I can fix whatever I did."
Your heart hurts at the sound of his growing panic, and so you surge up and seal your lips to his just to shut him up. Your husband kisses you back without a thought, and you lose yourself a little in the kiss before you pull away, though you keep close, your hands cradling his blushing face.
"You didn't so anything wrong, baby," you assure him and lean up to kiss his nose, "I just.. I had a surprise for you, but it's not ready yet."
Corazon frowns, feeling guilty that he's ruined something that you've obviously worked so hard on. If he weren't holding you, the marine would dig for a cigarette. He's about to offer to leave, when you suddenly step back and take his hand.
"Come on, I may as well show you now."
Rosinante follows you through the house and to a back room, left unused since it was usually just you here. His breath gets caught in his throat when he sees what you've done to the room. Half of it has been painted his favorite pink, and there are two dressers, both half built, and there tucked in the corner, is a tiny bassinet.
His heart pouts loudly in his ears, and he can hardly hear you as you ramble by his side, telling him about being too excited to just work on one project at a time. He hears you apologize for the mess, but Rosinante is still too focused on the bassinet.
You bite your bottom lip, growing nervous when your husband doesn't say anything. You shuffle in place, one hand coming down to hold your stomach, "Rosi..?"
Cora whips around, and you can see that he is grinning, tears welling up in his eyes and sliding down his face as he falls to his knees in front of you. His hands hover around you like he's suddenly terrified to touch you, but you grab one of them and hold his palm to your growing belly.
"I'm gonna be a dad?"
You nod, your own eyes filling with tears at the elation and awe you hear coating his voice. You sniff loudly and raise your free hand to scrub at your eyes, a smile tugging your lips up.
"Uhm... Surprise."
Rosinante pulls you in for a kiss so full of love that you can't help but melt against him. It might not have gone how you wanted it, but this was just as good.
#one piece#corazon#donquixote rosinante#rosinante corazon#corazon x reader#rosinante x reader#reader insert#fluff
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I think the show in no way captured just how hard season 3 was on the Specialists. I mean, obviously they were barely treated as nothing more than love interests, but season 3 broke these boys.
Sky was spelled and manipulated to the point where he had no idea what reality was. Coming out of that must have been terrifying. Having no clue of what's real or who to trust, it must have taken him such a long time to start feeling like he had somehwat control over his life again. And knowing his parents didn't even recognise the state and pain he was in only makes it more painful.
Brandon was captured and treated as a traitor by the realm he spent his entire life fighting for. Growing up as a child soldier, he was taught that the only thing he was good for was being Sky's meat shield. But at the moment his best friend needs him the most, he gets thrown into a prison cell for wanting to help him.
Timmy's grief over losing Tecna gets a surprising amount of recognition in the show, I'll give them that. But I still think the show moved on too fast from the fact that everyone assumed Tecna to be dead. The sleepless nights trying to find her, his refusal to come to terms with what happened... Even after finding her, that shit stays with you.
Riven is the only one that caught somewhat of a break in season 3. Him and Musa are doing better and he's finally learning to let the people around him into his life. However, seeing Darcy once again trying to take over the world, hurting the people he loves, must rip open a wound that he's tried to stitch up about a million times. He'll forever feel guilty for his actions in season 1, and Darcy will forever be a reminder of that.
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Neuvillette x Reader
The Chief Justice's Wife <3
★masterlist★
-> You offer to give your husband a relaxing massage. However, it turns you on but unfortunately, since you didn't want to bother Neuvillette during his work, you slipped away. That's when you make an annoying encounter, one that Neuvillette will deal with for you, as the caring and protective husband he is <3
No warnings, pure fluff but some sexual stuff implied at the end.
❤︎ Enjoy your reading! ❤︎
Sitting right on the lap of the Chief of Justice while he was working in the middle of the day in his office, you soon started to get bored. Well, bored to death, to be more precise. To tell the truth, the only thing he did --besides working-- was giving you soft kisses on your neck from time to time and caressing your waist thoroughly with his calloused and warm hand. Of course, that wasn't to displease you but it's not like it kept you entertained. And as you felt what was like his twentieth kiss, you wondered if you could do something for your lover. After all, you may be bored but at least you weren't working like Neuvillette. And if doing something for him meant that you wouldn't be bored anymore and please your husband, there wasn't any reason you wouldn't do it.
Since early this morning, your husband has been analysing multiple judiciary cases you wouldn't know a thing about. Can you imagine how tired he must be?
Fortunately, he's lucky to have such a caring wife as you are.
You got up from his lap, making him finally lift his eyes from all the papers displayed on his desk, going right behind him. "Would Monsieur Neuvillette let his dear wife give him a massage on those broad but oh so sore shoulders of his?" You suggested, placing your delicate hands on the place you promised to massage, giving his cheek a sweet kiss. "How could I say no to such a nice service offered by my wife herself?" He replied, instantly humming when he felt your soft hands, he much adored, working magic on his sore shoulders of a judge. Giggling a little, you kept massaging him, enjoying the feeling of his muscles against your more fragile hands.
Would it be humiliating if he knew that the more you felt his muscles and the more you started to get just a tiny bit aroused? There's no need to tell him though... I mean, touching a man's muscles, Neuvillette's muscles at that, was somehow enough to arouse you. Seeing his broad back and large shoulders makes you feel so vulnerable and tiny. And even more when he'd stand in front or behind you. You feel like he could do whatever he wants to you, that you just couldn't resist, physically speaking. First of all, he's a man. Compared to women, they just have so much more strength that it's terrifying. And it's not like Neuvillette is skinny or just toned, he's a well built and strong man. Fortunately, this fact does not scare you. On the contrary, with Neuvillette, you feel so safe thanks to his huge body, loving above all how he manhandles you so easily thanks to all the strength he's got.
Like those times in bed where he just throws you on the bed without any difficulty and- "Dear? Are you okay?" Neuvillette snaps you out of your lewd reverie, taking a hand of yours in his. "Oh hum, yes, why?" You ask, a little confused. "You stopped massaging me and I called your name but you didn't answer me. Is everything truly alright?" Oh, if only he knew. Did you lose yourself that much in your thoughts for you to not hear him call you until he took your hand? "Don't worry, hum... I was just lost in my thoughts..." You wanted to pick up where you left off, except, your lover is now standing in front of your little figure, his worried pupils looking down at yours whilst a strong hand comes rest en your cheek. "Darling, are you being honest with me? You should know that I know you by heart, my love." Seeing that look of his makes you feel a little guilty for interrupting him, when you were actually just fantasizing about his muscles and strength. But it's not like you were going to tell him, what would you look like? Well, you'd look exactly like a starving woman for her man. That wouldn't displease Neuvillette at all, but you fear that it could (it would) distract him from his work, meaning that he would end up leaving from work later than usual. Why? Well, he'd slam you straight on his desk and take good care of making your fantasies come true. "I know but really, there is nothing to worry about." You give him a sweet and reassuring smile. "How about I get you some coffee?" Neuvillette doesn't have the time to say a thing that you give him a soft quick kiss on your tiptoes and leave his office to go fetch him a drink.
That's for the best. At least, with Neuvillette not being around you anymore you don't take the risk to jump on him or bother him, thus distracting him from his duty as the Chief of Justice. It's a relief that you already calmed down and killed your appetite for you husband, now that there are a lot of people around you such as guards, other employees, janitors and so on. It isn't only your lover and you anymore.
Even though it's not the first time you visit Neuvillette here, since he was always by your side, you didn't really bother to remember what was where as he already did that for you. When you're in his company, all your attention goes to him, trusting your man with the rest, knowing he'd always be there for you. However, this time you are all alone and can't really remember where the cafeteria is. Naturally, you decide to ask someone who works here. That's where you spot a young man not that far from you. Compared to others, he didn't seem busy or whatever since he was just being on his phone, perhaps texting someone. That's great because otherwise you'd feel bad to disturb someone for such a trivial thing when you're not even actually supposed to be here. Gently tapping on his shoulder from with your finger, he first only turns his head with a confused look, but as he lowers his gaze on your figure, a smile draws itself on his face and he turns around completely. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the cafeteria, do you know where it is?" You asked gently with a polite smile. "Oh, sure, Iet me show you." He replied. "Oh you don't have to, you can just tell me the direction, I wouldn't bother you for that." You said gently. "Don't worry beautiful, I wasn't that busy, and I can always make some time for girls like you." The young man ended his sentence by a seductive wink. "Oh hum... Well, if you insist, thank you." You replied again with a polite smile, not giving too much thought to his flirting. Neuvillette surely wouldn't like that, but it's just a matter of a few minutes. Plus, you wouldn't want to bother someone who's really busy.
Walking side by side, you stay at a correct distance between strangers. However, it seems like someone else can't, or doesn' want to actually respect that. "By the way, what's your name, beautiful?" He asked, reducing the distance between the both of you little by little. As if you wouldn't notice. "I'm (y/n), so I'd appreciate if you could stop calling me beautiful, please." With an awkward smile, you distance yourself a bit more. But something you didn't expect, is his very hand coming rest on your shoulder and drag you closer to him. "Oh come on, I can assure you, you really are beautiful." His chuckle disgusted you. He's one of those men who don't respect boundaries or allow themselves to touch you. Nothing like your man, Neuvillette.
Immediately removing his hand, you contest. "That's not what I meant. I'm taken, so please stop with your flirting." When you lift your gaze, you notice that you've arrived at the cafeteria. "And where's the problem? Aren't we supposed to have fun in this life?" Oh right, he's still here. "You can have some fun with someone else, not me. Anyways, thank you, I should remember the way back." Turning around, he's finally gone from your sight. And what's even better than a cafeteria with no queue? "I'd like a black coffee without sugar, please." You request.
"How old are you to drink that, pretty?" The voice coming from your right, you're met with the man you thought you had left behind right when you turn your head. "I thought I told you to quit calling me that." Argh, he's persistent. "And I did. I called you pretty this time, not beautiful." Aaaand he laughs as if that was actually funny. "Anyway, don't you have some work to go back to? I've already thanked you for showing me the cafeteria." You say before you go sit on an empty chair at a table. "You could thank me by allowing me to keep you company, doesn't that sound nice? How come such a pretty lady like you is alone though?" He says, dragging a chair from another table to place it in front of your table, sitting on it. "I am not, my husband works here." You say, while texting your husband that you'll be back soon. "Oh wow, you're married at that? 'Makes things even more interesting~"
You sigh, you're just tired now. Thankfully, your phone almost immediately buzzes, distracting you from the annoying man in front of you. A smile spreads your cheeks sweetly when you read his text. "Thank you, but come back to me quick, my darling." Sigh, nothing like that guy. However, someone had to ruin that. "Is he that great in bed, really?" You sigh again, glaring at him. "More than you could ever be, if you ever are, that is." Putting your phone back in your purse, you stand up when you notice that your order is now ready.
"Ouch, that's mean, my lady!" For the nth time, you sigh. "'Don't care." You simply answer, dropping formalities. "Do you really plan to follow me everywhere? Now that really is bothering me, just leave me alone." You add, your steps quickening. Unfortunately, he catches up to you. "How could I leave such a gracious flower as you? 'Can't leave before I'm given a chance." You take your phone out to text Neuvillette again. "I already told you I'm married to someone. Just leave me alone now." You repeat yourself, without success.
Suddenly, you see yourself being caged between a wall and him, a few steps away from Neuvillette's office. "H-hey! What are you doin-" He doesn't let you finish, taking your chin in between his fingers. "That man really is lucky to have a girl like you, I'm jealous." You wanted to push him away, but since you have your lover's coffee in hand, you had to be cautious if you didn't want to spill it everywhere. "Back off!" You say as you try tu push him away with one hand only.
But like I said, men are just stronger. This man's strength is scary, but your man's is comforting. That's where all the difference lies.
"Calm down a little, beauty, I just want a taste." Any abrupt move could spill the coffe, and besides, you didn't want to make a scene or whatever by pouring it everywhere. (This is just a fiction but in real life, just make a scene ladies, pour the coffe on his face and beat that man's ass first before worrying about the rest. Stay safe<3) He slowly starts to lean in for a kiss. And that's it, you scream. "Neuvilleette!!" The man is surprised when he hears the name you call out. "W-wait what? That Neuvillette??" He looks at you with wide eyes, slowly starting to realize who's wife he messed up with. And before he does realize it, his shirt is being pulled on by your husband, who throws him effortlessly on the ground.
He. Looks. Furious.
He. IS. Furious.
The gaze that Neuvillette holds is darker than the deepest parts of the ocean. His jaw is clenched and his expression is firm. His brows slightly furrowed and his fists are solidly tight. "State the reason your filthy hands were on my wife. Now." He commands as you come by his side and take his arm, putting it close against your chest, now reassured by his presence that brings you a sense of security. "M-Monsieur Neuvillette?? I- I didn't know she was your wife! I promise!" Neuvillette, as the Chief of Justice, is a cold blooded person. However, with those narrowed eyebrows and terrifying dark gaze, everyone would think he was ready to kill the man who touched you, his wife, right here and now, totally forgetting about his position.
The guy was already shaking trying to protect himself with his arms above his head, ready to receive Neuvillette's fierce blows. Although you'd have loved to see him getting punched at least once, you couldn't let your husband hit him and risk to cause a scandal. How would the people of Fontaine react if their very Chief of Justice acted the way he was going to? "Love please, calm down. Just sue him for sexual harassment. You already scared him enough like that, I don't think he'd try this again." You assured, offering him your best fake smile while pulling gently on his arm. "How cute. But sweetheart, it still doesn't change the fact that he touched you, and I can't let that slide." He started approaching his trembling figure again and this time, you pulled his arm more firmly to try to stop him. But he just is so much stronger than you. "Neuvillette, you are the Iudex! How would your people think of you? Someone could even replace you!" The scumbag can't even get up from the floor, he really just is shaking like a leaf at the sight of your husband. "Sh-she's right!! I- I won't do it again! Ever! Please just sue me! Spare me, monsieur Neuvillette the Chief of Justice, the Iudex!!" Honestly, you can't help but let out a chuckle, even he is asking to get sued. How pitiful. "Neuvi, I have an idea." You say, stepping in front of your husband, handing him his coffee. He looks down at you with a confused look, but accepts to listen to you, and you only. "Since you can't really hit him due to your status, let me do it for you! We could simply determine it as an act of self-defence. Plus, there's no one around us, and you certainly wouldn't go against me, would you?" You say, sliding slowly your hand on his hard chest. "I-" He clears his throat. "I suppose it could work, yes. Then, let your blows be mighty, my love." You let escape a chuckle and peck his cheek, totally ignoring the guy on the floor this whole time. To tell the truth, you didn't plan to actually hit him, it was mainly to prevent Neuvillette from losing his position.
Kneeling in front of him, you simply start by talking. "Am I still as beautiful as you were saying, non-stop?" You asked, now smiling genuinely. You wanted to put him in trouble. To scare him enough that he wouldn't try it anymore with any woman. He immediately glanced at the Iudex, who's anger only grew. "Th-that's not true! I never s-said that!!" At that, Neuvillette's cane met the floor with a loud sound. "Are you implying that my wife is a liar?" He asked with a tone filled with authority. "N-no! Absolutely not! I wouldn't dare!!" You laugh a little again, pleased with the sight of him regretting what he did to you. Leaning closer to him, you let him believe that you'll be more gentle than Neuvillette, only to give him a good and nice slap on the face. "That's for touching me." You slap him again, on the other side. "And that's for ruining my lovely day with my husband." His face is now printed with the mark of both of your hands, and your soul is now lighter. "If I ever catch you acting the way you did again in my workplace, I won't be as lenient. Mark my words." Added Neuvillette, to conclude this matter. "Yes!! Of course, monsieur Neuvillette!! You won't ever hear of me again!!" And just like this, he gets up and trips right there and then before getting up again and running away.
Back in his office, he is now seating in the couch, your hands in his, while you stand between his legs. "Was what I saw the only things he did to you? Or was there more to that?" He started. There was indeed more but.. Is it necessary to tell him? I mean, it's now in the past and you had already dealt with him so... It would only make your lover angrier, at that. "He didn't do anyth-" Oops, he knows you far too well. "Don't lie, my love." He says, softly. You lower your head, defeated. "Okay, I'm sorry... At first, he was only flirty, complimenting me here and there but then, he took me by my shoulder, he sat with me at the cafeteria and then... you saw what happened, and what could have happened if it wasn't for you..." Whilst listening to what that bastard dared to do to you, his wife, he tightened his hands a little bit around yours, however not enough to hurt you. After all, he would never. Neuvillette sighs, looking away from you with an upset look, before he pulls on your hands and makes you fall into his warm embrace. "Didn't you inform him that you already belong to another man?" Your arms wrap by themselves around his neck, his being around your waist. "I did, but... He said that it only made things more interesting." Neuvillette's grip only tightens, his possessiveness expressing itself by a sudden hot kiss in your neck. "Neuvi-" The Chief of Justice's teeth plant themselves on your neck, claiming you as a whole. Soon after, his warm tongue slide against your soft skin before kissing, sucking, and biting it again. "Mmh..." You only let gasps and sounds of pleasure which go right into your dear strong man's pointy ears. Your fingers pull slightly on the roots of his shiny silver hair, resulting in grunts on his part. Neuvillette's soft lips capture yours il a loving kiss filled with burning desire, not allowing you a single moment, a second, to breathe. Fervorous kisses attack your poor mouth, trying to catch up with his rhythm but you can't. He is devouring his smaller wife's mouth as a starving husband. "Mmh- Neuvi, wait-" Nothing to do. As you try to speak against his hot lips, a huge hand of his draws her path to your butt, grabbing a handful of your right cheek. His other hand? He slides it on the small of your back to shift you in a laying position on the couch.
That day, everyone who walked by your husband's office knew who you were to him..
#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette#genshin impact#genshin men#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin men x reader#suggestive#genshin neuvillette
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Hi! Loved your villainess series and i can't wait for a Jamil chapter! In the meantime, do you mind if I request Jamil x a reader whom the Asims are absolutely terrified of? As in they're one of the most genuinely kind people out there but they could eradicate you with a snap of their fingers when pissed (though they only do that in extreme situations and are pretty reasonable). So as soon as Jamil starts dating them, everyone in the Asim household starts walking on eggshells around him cause they don't want to be eradicated off the face of the earth. He still has to do his job but the more dangerous aspects or any extra work is delegated to somebody else. Basically, Jamil can now be as overachieving as he wants since nobody has enough of a death wish to risk pissing off his lover.
Jamil Viper x Intimidating! reader
thank you for waiting <3 i hope you like it
The moment Jamil starts dating you, the entire Asim household becomes a drastically different place. It’s not like you’re a tyrant or anything—you’re the sweetest, kindest person they’ve ever met.
You’re always smiling, polite, and helpful. But everyone knows about that side of you. The side that only shows when something pushes too far, and you go from warm and gentle to terrifying in the blink of an eye.
It doesn’t happen often—really, it only ever happens in extreme situations—but one close encounter was more than enough to put the fear of you into the entire Asim household.
The first time it happened, one of the servants had accidentally endangered Jamil by not paying attention. Nothing too serious in hindsight, but in the heat of the moment, you had stepped in, voice cold and eyes sharp as you reprimanded the poor servant with an intensity no one expected from you.
You didn’t yell or make a huge scene, but the weight of your words and the terrifying calm in your expression was more than enough to send everyone scattering. And now, that incident has taken on a life of its own, becoming a whispered legend among the staff.
Jamil, however, is a little too amused by the whole situation. He’s never seen you lose your temper with him, and he finds it kind of satisfying watching everyone tiptoe around, desperate not to cross you.
Not to mention, it’s made his life a whole lot easier. Suddenly, all the extra dangerous or exhausting tasks that used to be piled on him are conveniently handled by someone else. No one dares to risk upsetting you by overworking him.
As you walk into the Asim estate one day, the staff noticeably scatter, heads ducked as they try not to make any mistakes in your presence. You exchange an amused look with Jamil as he walks beside you.
"Did I do something to terrify them today?" you whisper, half-joking.
Jamil smirks, clearly enjoying this more than he should. "No, they're just smart. Nobody wants to be the one responsible for angering you."
You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. "I’m not that bad."
"Tell that to the servant who accidentally put me in danger last month. I think he’s still recovering," Jamil replies, his voice teasing.
You blush, feeling a little guilty. "I didn’t mean to scare him. He just needed to be more careful."
"Oh, you didn’t scare him. You petrified him," Jamil says, his smug grin growing wider. “Now, everyone’s scrambling to make sure I don’t get stuck with anything that could stress me out, all because they don’t want you to get upset on my behalf."
He’s not wrong. It’s like there’s an unspoken agreement among the staff that keeping Jamil stress-free is the key to survival.
Tasks that used to involve risky magic, late nights, or heavy lifting are reassigned before they even reach Jamil’s to-do list. And it’s not just because Jamil’s Kalim’s right-hand man; it’s because of you.
The thought of you unleashing your wrath is enough to keep the household running smoothly, with no one willing to take chances.
Jamil stretches, looking relaxed for the first time in what feels like years. “I could get used to this,” he mutters, clearly reveling in his newfound freedom from extra work.
You shoot him a playful glare. "You’re enjoying this too much."
"Can you blame me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got more free time, no one’s shoving dangerous tasks my way, and I have the best motivation to keep it that way.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “That motivation being you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, warmth flooding your chest. Jamil isn’t always one for open displays of affection, but when he does say things like this, they hit hard. You can’t help but smile, reaching out to take his hand as you walk together.
"I didn’t mean to turn the whole household into a bunch of scaredy-cats," you admit, squeezing his hand.
Jamil chuckles softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s not your fault they’re terrified. You just have... a certain presence when you’re angry.”
You snort, shaking your head. "I’m sure you’re not complaining, considering all the benefits."
"Not one bit," he says, his voice smooth and teasing. “Though I’ll admit, I don’t need them to be scared of you. I can handle my own problems.”
"Uh-huh, sure," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “And here I thought you were just enjoying the luxury of not being overworked.”
Jamil leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I enjoy being with you more.”
Your heart flips, and before you know it, you’re turning your head and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, unable to resist the moment. He seems a little taken aback, his smug exterior cracking for a second as he blinks in surprise. Then, a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.
"Keep that up, and I might start making excuses to slack off even more," he teases.
You laugh, shaking your head. "I can’t believe you. I’m not your excuse to get out of work."
Jamil grins, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Maybe not. But you’re definitely the reason I’m a lot happier these days.”
He says it so casually, but the sincerity in his voice makes your chest feel tight with affection. You glance up at him, your hand still in his, and you realize just how much he’s changed since you started dating.
He’s still the same hardworking, overachieving Jamil, but now he’s more relaxed, more at ease. And you’re glad you can be a part of that.
Meanwhile, the staff is still scattering like leaves in the wind as you and Jamil stroll through the estate. Kalim, of course, is the only one who remains blissfully oblivious to the atmosphere.
"Hey, guys!" Kalim shouts, bounding over with a bright smile. “I just heard about a new event happening tonight! You two are coming, right?”
Jamil exchanges a glance with you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You know, Kalim, I think I’m going to take the night off. We have plans,” he says smoothly, pulling you a little closer.
Kalim grins, not missing a beat. “Oh! That’s awesome! Have fun!”
You can’t help but chuckle at Kalim’s eternal optimism, but as you walk away, you notice a few of the servants letting out relieved sighs. They clearly appreciate that Jamil is taking a break, but you’re well aware of what they’re really relieved about: keeping you happy.
Jamil’s smirk returns as you head back to your shared quarters. “I think I owe you for this.”
You raise an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For making my life a whole lot easier," he says, his voice low and teasing.
You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your lips as you lean into him. "Just don’t get too cocky."
Jamil grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Too late.”
You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the Asim household will always be a little terrified of you, but if it means keeping Jamil happy and safe, you can live with that.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#jamil x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil x you#jamil viper x you#jamil#jamil viper
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Hiiiiiii can you write something about reader trying to breakup with phsycotic/yandere Chan 🥺 Only if you can babes❤️
♡ breaking up with a psychotic bang chan ♡
psychotic bang chan x afab reader | dead dove | nsfw (MDNI)
p.s. i hope this is to your liking, anon!
⚠︎ tw: non-consensual elements (i.e. forced breeding), physical violence, threats of murder
✧・゚: psychotic!chan will emotionally manipulate you *✧・゚:*
Chan resorts to intense emotional manipulation, exploiting your insecurities and fears to make you feel guilty and unworthy. He convinces you that no one else could ever love you as he does and that leaving him would be the worst mistake of your life. He recounts every positive moment you two have shared and proclaims these moments cannot be recreated with another. Essentially, you are manipulated into questioning whether ending things with him is the right choice.
"Baby, you're not making sense. After everything we've been through, after all the time I've poured into loving you despite your flaws, why would you want to give up on us—on me? Who else is going to take the time to learn how to love you unconditionally?"
✧・゚: psychotic!chan will physically abuse you *✧・゚:*
Chan uses physical violence to assert his control over you and instill fear. He yanks you close by the hair, roughly wrapping your locks around his fist so tightly that your scalp pulsates for hours afterwards. He also enjoys choking you until you almost pass out, slamming you into walls with a grip around your throat that leave behinds finger-tip shaped bruises. Whenever you're helplessly within his grasp like this, Chan leans in incredibly close and makes it clear with a cold, stern expression that he won't tolerate any of your attempts to leave. The violence is terrifying, but Chan deems it necessary to keep from losing you.
"I'm trying to be patient with you, baby, because I love you to fucking pieces, but you're being so damn difficult. Every time you try to leave me, it brings me closer and closer to snuffing your life out, because if I can't have you in this life, I damn sure will in the next. Don't make me go there, baby. No more talk of leaving, yeah?"
✧・゚: psychotic!chan will forcibly breed you *✧・゚:*
Chan is desperate to bind you to him for the rest of your lives. He believes that having a child together will ensure you can never leave him. He sabotages your birth control by replacing your contraceptive medication with disguised sleeping pills. Several times a week, you wake up to Chan thrusting wildly inside of you, whispering potential baby names with each forceful, animalistic thrust. And when he paints the inside of your womb white, he whispers to you how pretty you'll be as a mother and how excited he is to watch your tummy grow from his seed. All you can do is lay there, feeling full and hot inside, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you realize you don't remember the last time you had a period.
"Oh, shi—Gonna fuck a daycare into you, y/n! Gonna keep you plump and round and full. You'll make such a perfect mommy, baby! You'd never abandon me then, right? How could you when we'd have Tzu...Yeong...Byeol...Eun...Iseul...Wonsi—"
#bang chan#skz bang chan#bang chan x reader#skz bang chan x reader#bang chan imagines#bang chan headcanons#skz x reader#skz headcanons#skz imagines#yandere skz#yandere bang chan#yandere!bang chan#yandere!skz x reader#skz#dead dove do not eat#anon request#sadseungmin
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