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cinnamongorll · 4 months ago

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a fragile line - epilogue

read on ao3! (179k words) | previous chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Chapter warnings: smut

Word count: 6k

Epilogue

Juliet's POV:

Juliet burned down her father’s house.

It didn’t take long, there was some gas in the basement that Matt dragged up the stairs and the five of them got to work, drowning most surfaces in the thick liquid. Juliet watched as it covered the bookshelves full of religious texts, dampening the words Elijah had used to justify his treatment of her. She locked eyes with Ethan when Joel handed her his lighter, her blood roared in her ears as Juliet silently asked him if this was the right decision, if she was thinking clearly.

They stood at the edge of the property, bags already strapped onto the horses, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Joel had assured her that the flames would die out before they reached any nearing properties, but a part of Juliet hoped that the fire would surround the town, erasing every part of it.

After a long moment, Ethan had nodded and Juliet flicked the lighter with a surprisingly steady hand. The flame was strong when she threw it towards the house and they watched with stunted breaths as the worn porch steps illuminated in red and orange. The fire was quick to lick up the side of the building, through the door, and into the hall.

Juliet released a slow, staggered breath when the windows exploded and Joel shielded her body with his own, gripping her shoulders and pushing her towards the horses with sharp, muffled commands in her ear.

Juliet stumbled over her own feet but she struggled to tear her eyes from the flames. Joel boosted her onto the horse they shared before joining her, gripping the reins as he turned the creature in the direction of Ethan, Charlotte, and Matt who had already begun riding down the street, away from the haunted house that was finally being destroyed.

As their horse gained speed, and Juliet’s old home became a speck of red and black in the distance, she imagined that same fire coating her skin, burning away every scar that was birthed in that house, erasing every echo of a scream from her mind, and making room for new memories.

No one emerged from their hiding spots as they rode through town. The people who were left were scared and tired. Juliet had gutted this town of its monsters.

When they made it through the town’s gate, Juliet’s body finally slumped into Joel’s back as she slid her arms around him. Even through his coat, she could feel the waves of heat pouring off of him, holding the cold at bay. Juliet’s cheek nuzzled into the thick leather of his jacket and she felt him release a heavy sigh.

She didn’t have to look to know that his mouth had curved into that reluctant smile he used to fight so hard against and Juliet’s eyes fell closed, a feeling of peace flowing through her despite the harsh journey ahead.

Behind her eyelids, Juliet pictured her father’s house falling apart piece by piece as his empire blackened and burned, crumbling to the ground, and her shoulders relaxed as she tightened her grip on Joel.

Elijah’s house would never hurt anyone again, she’d made sure of it.

……………….

With a combination of severe weather, groups of raiders and hoards of infected, the journey back to Jackson took a lot longer than any of them had expected.

It was mid-February before they returned, arriving at Jackson’s gates worn and malnourished. The snow still stuck to the ground and, from the gates, Juliet could spot some Christmas lights that still hung from the sides of buildings, reminding her of the day they left.

Tommy was the first to greet them, pulling Joel into a hug that nearly knocked the two of them over. Joel gripped his brother tight, murmuring words that she couldn’t hear as Tommy nodded and slapped him on the back.

Juliet watched politely, smiling as the brothers reunited, yet she couldn’t help but feel that festering reminder of her guilt begin to curl around her stomach, and her eyes darted away, ashamed of her part in their separation.

When they broke apart, Juliet was surprised to find that Tommy’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her in with a gentle force as his chin rested on her head.

“Careful,” Joel warned from beside them, his arms crossed as he watched Juliet for any hint of pain or discomfort.

Juliet felt Tommy’s laugh reverberate through her body as he brushed off his brother’s concern, smiling against the top of her head. She leaned into the hug, her eyes burning as she felt the weight of his worry and accepted the offer of his renewed friendship.

When they pulled apart, Joel’s feet crunched through the snow to stand behind Juliet and Tommy looked between the two of them with a hint of surprise in his brown eyes, then he shook his head and his mouth broke into a crooked smile.

Juliet looked between the brothers, watching a silent conversation pass between them as her eyebrows furrowed. After a moment, Joel’s hand landed on her shoulder and he nodded at Tommy.

Something passed over Tommy’s face that she couldn’t quite identify at first, but as Joel’s hand slid around her waist and he turned them in the direction of the town, she realised that there was something resembling acceptance in his expression.

Juliet brushed it off and focused only on the warm feeling of Joel’s hand as it settled on her waist and the realisation that he didn’t care who saw the evidence of his affection towards her.

…………………………

No one questioned it when, that evening, Joel packed up Juliet’s stuff from her house and moved it into his.

She sat on his bed, her legs crossed under her as she watched Joel carefully unpack the small collection of items and clothing she had gathered during her time in Jackson. Neither of them said a word as he pushed his things aside to make room for hers. There was no discussion, no hint of doubt. Joel moved as though his actions were the most natural thing in the world, as though Juliet sitting on his bed watching every motion of his hand was a usual occurrence.

When he closed the last drawer, he turned to her, straightening his spine and reaching a hand up to rub along his jaw and the scuff of a beard he’d managed to grow on their journey. It reminded her of the days before they reached Jackson, when Juliet would try to imagine what it would feel like to touch his face and not feel like she’d been scorched.

When his eyes met hers in the low lighting of the room, Juliet struggled to decipher his expression. She shifted under his gaze and her tongue escaped her mouth to wet her dry lips.

Joel didn’t miss the movement and he began to walk over, with slow, careful steps, almost as though he didn’t want to spook her, like knew how dangerous he was and what might happen if he got too close.

When he stopped, Joel stood with his legs touching the edge of the mattress and his chin tilted down to tower over Juliet’s cross-legged form as she gazed up at him with inquisitive eyes. Even after all this time, Joel’s movements still remained unpredictable and she liked the feeling that sparked over her skin as she attempted to guess what he might do next. There was no fear in waiting, no apprehension that Joel might do something to hurt her, there was just a buzzing anticipation of his touch and a sharp focus in response to his full, undivided attention.

Juliet’s eyes shuttered closed when his rough palm met her cheek, grazing upwards against her flushed skin until he met her hair. His fingers dug in, scratching her scalp until a soft moan flew from Juliet’s mouth as her chin lifted towards him.

He groaned in approval, using his other hand to untangle her hair from its braid as the pressure from his touch increased. Juliet forced her eyes open as she felt the heat from his gaze begin to burn her skin.

Her lips parted as she blinked up at him, a moan caught in her throat as his fingers kneaded into the back of her neck, rubbing away the tension that wrapped around her.

Joel was doing it on purpose, she decided, when a whimper trembled from her lips and his whole body shuddered in response. He was enjoying the way she came undone under his touch as she demonstrated just how much his towering presence affected her.

Juliet watched as his jaw moved and his gaze flickered to the door across the room. Through the haze of his touch, Juliet’s eyes narrowed and she begged her mouth to work, to ask him what he was thinking… but Joel held her tongue in his dark, heavy look and she was stunned into silence.

“Come with me,” he commanded in a low growl, and dropped his hands to curve around her elbows, helping her off the bed with tenderness that warred with the promise of something so brutal and savage in his eyes.

Juliet’s heart pounded as her feet met the cold hardwood floor and she allowed herself to be led across the room to what she now recognised as Joel’s bathroom. Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated where this was going until Joel let go of her arm to flick on the light and then reach across the bathtub to turn on the shower.

Juliet’s tense shoulders dropped instantly. The thought of a warm shower had kept her going for the past several weeks, imagining herself standing below the stream and washing off everything that had happened to her. A smile found her lips at Joel’s thoughtfulness.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she moved over to the tub and turned, waiting for Joel to step out the bathroom as her skin itched to move under the water that was currently creating a cloud of steam between them.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, Joel closed the door and began to move closer, and closer until he had backed her against the tub. Juliet watched him with widening eyes as his hand moved to the top button of her flannel.

“Joel,” she said in a trembling voice. “What are you doing?”

His eyes found hers, and his eyebrows raised in an amused gesture as his finger grazed the button again. Surely he could hear how fast her heart was beating.

“I’m gonna help you outta these clothes, then we’re gonna get cleaned up,” he explained, before he paused and searched her face as the corner of his mouth twitched up. “That okay?”

Juliet’s skin began to flush. “We?” she repeated.

Amusement danced in Joel’s eyes as he nodded and his fingers continued to play with the button.

The hot steam coated her skin and Juliet couldn’t help but feel exposed. She’d been with Joel before, but it was too quick and rushed and unexpected for her to feel nervous. But now… he would see all of her and her heart seized at the thought of his eyes trailing along the scars that marked her skin.

Her head turned towards the wall, escaping his attention for a moment as she tried to calm her breathing.

“Hey,” he said, concern entering his tone. “What’s wrong?”

Juliet found his searching gaze and she swallowed at the sight of his confusion.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” she whispered, hoping her words would just fade with the hot steam and they wouldn’t actually reach his ears.

“Like what, baby?” he murmured as his palm found her cheek again. He stared down at her as the lines on his forehead grew deeper.

Juliet huffed out a breath. “Hurt, scarred,” she stopped, shrugging, then lifted her hand, ignoring the dull pain produced from the sudden movement. “Butchered.”

Joel’s eyebrows pulled together, his eyes narrowed and his mouth transformed into a thin line, all amusement gone, as he processed her words.

Juliet looked away as the flush rose in her cheeks, beneath his careful touch.

Suddenly Joel pulled away, and Juliet squeezed her eyes shut, worried that her nightmare of Joel’s rejection had come true. But only seconds later, his voice interrupted her spiralling thoughts.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Juliet’s eyes blinked open to find Joel rapidly unbuttoning his own shirt. Her mouth dried as she watched his fingers move, exposing his tanned chest. With each button gone, Juliet’s breaths came faster and faster.

“Joel, what -”

“Look,” he repeated, releasing the final button and pulling his shirt open as his chest rose and fell in sharp, heavy breaths.

Juliet’s eyes were already tracing his skin, roaming over his shoulders and following the path of hair down his chest, committing every inch of it to memory. After the sudden shock of his exposure faded, Juliet looked closer and noticed the white lines that lightened his flesh, and the circular shapes that sent a blade of fear through her heart. Then, slowly her eyes dropped to the scar low on his stomach that her own fingers had a hand in creating.

She tore her gaze away before the memory of that day consumed her, when his blood stained her skin and he had begged her to leave him.

When her eyes found his, Joel looked down at Juliet with a vulnerability she had never seen.

On instinct, she stepped forward and her hand reached out until her fingers met his soft flesh. Joel flinched and sucked in a breath, scanning Juliet’s face as she began to trace the marks on his skin.

A fierce flame of anger built in her chest as she thought of how these marks were formed, and she realised the pain he must have endured. Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed deeply when she thought about how she hadn’t been there, how she wasn’t able to help him.

Then, Juliet thought about why he had shown her this, and her breath caught in her throat.

They were the same. He had survived, just as she had.

This was just another piece of evidence to prove how alike they truly were. Joel’s scars matched hers, how could she be embarrassed by them?

Juliet removed her hand from his skin and, before her nerves could stop her, she reached for the buttons on her own flannel and started to release them. Joel’s breath shuddered out of him when he realised what she was doing and, when her lost finger made it difficult, he replaced her hands with his own as he slowly, carefully removed the shirt from her body, leaving her shivering in just her bra.

Her flannel fell from his hand, creating a puddle of fabric at their feet.

“So beautiful,” Joel drawled as his eyes traced her chest.

Juliet felt the sincerity in his words and she glanced down at his hands to distract herself from the heat in his expression. She watched as his hand twitched towards her then stopped suddenly and curled into a fist.

Feeling a sudden sense of confidence at his reaction, Juliet reached around and managed to unhook her bra. For a long moment, she held the cups over her breasts as her heartbeat roared in her ears, then she dared to look up at Joel.

Juliet’s mouth dropped open. He stared down at her with what looked like anger burning in his gaze and Juliet felt a sudden pulse of fear fire through her as her hands began to tremble. She forgot, sometimes, how dangerous Joel was, and what power he truly held in his body. He could break her if he wanted, she might even let him.

Slowly, her hands dropped and the bra joined her flannel on the bathroom floor.

Joel moved and Juliet realised how right she was to be frightened of him. His lips met her neck with a force that would have knocked her backwards if his hand hadn’t slid around her naked back, holding her in place. Juliet’s neck was pushed upwards by Joel’s other hand, exposing more of her throat as he feverishly scanned her flesh with his lips, kissing, tasting, tempting her with the edges of his teeth, like they might bite into her neck at any moment.

Juliet couldn’t keep track of the noises she was making, they were blending in with Joel’s groans and the sound of the water that continued to stream from the showerhead behind them. The steam in the bathroom was becoming unbearable, stealing away any breaths that she could take in between Joel’s attack.

Soon, his lips moved downwards as his hand cupped her beast, pushing against the flesh until his thumb grazed her hardened nipple and Juliet’s entire body shook with the force of her moan.

She swore she felt Joel’s mouth stretch into a smile against the bottom of her neck as his hand moved to her other breast, grazing her nipple in the same maddening way. Juliet was losing her thoughts, they were floating away and she couldn’t catch them. The only thing that consumed her mind was where Joel’s lips would go next.

Juliet didn’t have to wonder for long. Without any warning, Joel’s thumb was replaced by his mouth as it captured her nipple in the warm heat of his tongue. Juliet felt his groan against her skin and the sound shot a pulse of heat down her entire body.

Juliet began to writhe against him, her hands reaching out, trying to grab a hold of anything to keep her weakening legs from giving out. Her good hand quickly caught a hold of his jeans and started to scramble to unhook his belt, needing to feel the hardness she felt against her stomach.

She whimpered in frustration when her efforts failed. Juliet couldn’t concentrate when Joel’s teeth grazed against her skin, sending a shiver of heat straight down her spine.

“Hold on, baby,” he murmured when his mouth left her and his black eyes locked with hers.

Juliet straightened, gasping for breath as she watched him effortlessly release the hold on his belt, unpop the top button and slowly bring the zipper down. She was pretty sure she stopped breathing when his thumbs tucked under the material and pushed his boxers and jeans down in one single movement, his eyes never leaving hers.

Juliet’s eyes dropped immediately to Joel’s cock. Her mouth dried when she was reminded of its length and size, and she watched it twitch in response to her close attention.

Her legs squeezed together. Joel didn’t miss the movement.

Reluctantly, Juliet’s eyes made their way back up to Joel’s face and she saw that vulnerability shine back at her again. Juliet was struck by an overpowering need to touch him, the boiling in her blood was reaching a breaking point, but he was always at least one step ahead of her. His hands were at her trousers before she could inhale another shuddering breath.

“You want this?” he demanded in a low growl.

Juliet nodded without a single ounce of hesitation. Her need for him was wrapping itself around her throat, strangling her, restricting her oxygen.

Her trousers and underwear were on the floor. Juliet’s mind was in a daze. Everything was in slow motion. She watched as Joel bent to unhook her trousers from her ankles then used his position to tuck his arm under her legs and lift her to his chest.

Juliet gasped but didn’t protest when Joel stepped into the bathtub and settled her down under the heat of the water.

Her head tilted back in pleasure and a low moan unleashed from her mouth, before it was swallowed by Joel. His lips consumed hers as his hands found her hair, tangling his fist in the soaking wet strands.

With both of his hands distracted, Juliet reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, squeezing gently. Joel’s lips ripped from hers as his head dropped to her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he shuddered out.

Juliet’s other hand grazed over his hair as she began to move her hand up and down his length until her thumb brushed over his tip and a strangled groan escaped Joel’s throat.

She could feel the thick dampness forming between her thighs despite being under the stream of the showerhead, and Juliet used her grip on his cock to position him at her clit, pushing her body forward until the head of his cock made contact with the nerves that forced her mouth to open in a silent scream and her head to fall back.

Joel snarled and broke away, pushing her against the wall of the shower, cradling her head with his hand.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” he scolded, wiping away the droplets of water that clung to Juliet’s eyelashes in an act so gentle in comparison to the anger that pulsed in his eyes.

Juliet liked the sensation of fear that sparked across her body as she quickly shook her head.

Joel huffed out a frustrated groan as his searing hot gaze followed the path of the water down her body, then his eyes flashes back up to hers.

His finger began to trace her lips, tempting her to open them, to let him in. Eventually, she caved and Joel’s finger slid into her mouth. On pure instinct, Juliet’s lips wrapped around his finger and she felt his cock twitch against her.

Surprise darted in Joel’s widened eyes, and he looked down at her mouth.

“Suck.”

Juliet obeyed immediately, wrapping her lips tighter around his finger. She swore her legs were about to give out as she watched Joel’s eyes fall closed in response.

When he pulled the finger from her mouth, it was dripping and Joel’s eyes darkened even further before his gaze dipped to where she was clenching with need, and his lips transformed into something between a smile and a snarl before his wet finger found her clit.

Juliet’s head swung backwards as he began to circle the bundle of nerves, pulling whimpers and moans from her throat. He didn’t let up, not once, Joel was not a man who responded to cries for mercy - he took what he wanted without remorse.

“Please, Joel,” Juliet cried when he picked up speed.

Instead of an answer, Joel’s lips met her neck again, sucking and tasting her damp skin as his traitorous finger left her clit and sunk deep inside her.

Juliet jumped and writhed against him at the intrusion. It was too much, the heat from the shower, the feeling of his tongue on her neck, his finger moving in and out, over and over, killing her each time.

“Think you can handle more?” he asked in between heavy breaths.

Juliet nodded vigorously, confirming her death wish.

Joel made a dismissive noise with his tongue and ceased all movement. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

Juliet groaned in annoyance. “Yes, I can handle it,” she confirmed in a sharp whine.

Joel breathed a laugh against her neck. “Good girl.”

Juliet was still processing those two words when a second finger sunk inside her, curling to meet a spot she barely knew about.

“Joel,” she whimpered against his chest, feeling overwhelmed.

The sound of his name caused Joel to nip at her neck with his teeth and Juliet began moving against his fingers, losing control.

A third finger joined in and Juliet lost it. Her cries echoed in the bathroom as Joel’s name fell from her lips more times than she could ever count. She was getting so close, it was actually painful.

Joel’s lips captured hers, his tongue forcing itself inside, before he made his final attack.

With three fingers pumping inside her, Joel moved his thumb and grazed it against her clit. Juliet cried out at the sensation, the sound getting lost in his mouth, and then he pressured harder, circling her with an edge of absolute cruelty.

That did it.

Juliet came with a scream trapped in her throat and her lip caught between Joel’s teeth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed as he released her lip and her body slumped against him. His hands moved around her back, rubbing her skin, pulling her closer. “Shhhh.”

When her body stopped shuddering, she pulled away and blinked up at Joel. He was watching her with an expression Juliet had never witnessed before. At first glance, it looked like anger… but she knew better.

Joel was breathing heavily, panting almost, as he stared down at her. A muscle jumped in his jaw and Juliet reached up to press a kiss to it, enjoying the sight of Joel’s surprise.

When her lips left his skin, Juliet’s eyes dropped to his cock, still hard and twitching against her stomach and she swallowed, wanting desperately to know what it would feel like pushing inside her.

Her eyes must have betrayed her thoughts because Joel captured her face with his hands and demanded her attention.

“Not fuckin’ you in a shower either,” he grunted out, referencing that night in the cabin when he was so close to giving in on the decaying couch.

Frustration and bitter disappointment flooded Juliet. She was sick of waiting, she wanted him, needed to feel him as close to her as possible.

Juliet covered his hand with her own. “Then take me to bed,” she whispered.

Joel’s eyes widened, and she watched as he considered her proposition, his cock still rock hard against her skin. She ached to reach down and wrap her fingers around him, to make him feel the way she had felt only moments ago.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands left her face and reached down to the back of her thighs, lifting her up until she was wrapped around his middle. She yelped and buried her face in his neck.

When she lifted her head, Joel had turned the shower off, grabbed a towel and placed her on the bed. She was soaked and the water from her hair flooded the bed despite the towel underneath her. But the way Joel stood over her, watching her, told her that he couldn’t care less.

His hand found his cock and began to move up and down his shaft as his eyes trailed over her damp skin, over her breasts, down her stomach…

“I’ll never get tired of lookin’ at you,” he choked out as his body reacted to his quick movements. Juliet was jealous, she wanted to be the one touching him, making him feel that way.

“Come here,” Juliet begged as she slowly dropped her legs open.

Joel’s eyes immediately fell between her thighs as he began to move his hand faster.

“Please,” she whined, spreading her legs even wider.

“Goddammit,” he cursed before he released his cock and climbed onto the bed, moving until he caged her with his body.

Juliet couldn’t help it, she gripped his face and pulled him towards her, kissing him slowly, exploring his mouth, memorising the taste of him on her tongue.

“Joel, I need you,” she breathed against his lips.

He released a strangled groan, and pulled himself back until he captured her gaze as he explored the look in her eyes.

“You sure you want this?” he asked cautiously, his voice deadly serious. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Juliet nodded her head, her heart ached at his words. Joel was always so protective of her, even from himself. She didn’t know how to express to him how badly she wanted this, how he could never hurt her.

“I love you, Joel,” she whispered.

Joel froze, his face was stunned as though she had landed a blow on his skin. She hadn’t said those words since that night in Elijah’s house, and from the look on Joel’s face it was as though he thought he imagined it all those weeks ago.

Finally, he broke out of his trance and he reached down, pushing her thighs further apart before gripping his cock and guiding the head into her tight heat. Juliet gasped, stunned by the feeling of him pushing into her.

Joel’s jaw clenched as he grit his teeth, and Juliet knew that he was waiting for her to adjust before he kept going. She dropped her head back and tilted her chin down in a sharp nod.

Joel released a heavy breath as she took more of him in, enveloping his cock a little at a time until his body began to shake and Juliet pushed her hips forward until he slid into her all the way to the hilt.

“Fuck, Juliet,” he ground out, as though he was pained.

Juliet’s mouth was open in another silent scream as she attempted to adjust to the feeling of him inside her, stretching her, hitting that impossible place inside her.

After a long moment, Joel pressed his hands against the sides of her hips as he pulled out, then rocked back into her so carefully.

The whine she released was utterly pornagraphic.

Joel lost control, she could feel it in the way his hips jerked towards her and his hand left her hip and buried itself in her hair as his lips captured hers, inhaling the moan that was working its way up her throat.

Kissing her harder, Joel pulled out again and pressed into her, experimenting with the sounds she made against his mouth.

“I love you,” he groaned against her lips as he rocked into her again, pulling out, holding himself like some endurance test, then jerking his cock back inside her, over and over again.

Juliet felt tears slipping down her face, mixing on their tongues. She wasn’t sure if it was in response to his words or the feeling of their bodies clashing against each other and the primal growls Joel was releasing every time he pushed back inside her.

Soon, he picked up the pace and he decided to torture her even more as his thumb reached down to play with her clit, cirling it as his cock pounded against the spongy spot inside her.

Her cries verged on delirious, she was sobbing, screaming, gripping him, clawing at him.

Joel joined in on the delirium as his groans faded into snarled words against her skin that she could barely make out each time he slammed into her.

“Fuck, baby.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You feel so good.”

“I’ve thought bout’ this too many times.”

“I’m so fuckin’ in love with you.”

He was going so fast now, Juliet couldn’t breathe.

“Joel,” she gasped out. “I think I'm gonna come again.”

His finger moved quicker, tempting her sanity until she tipped on the edge.

“Do it,” he commanded. “Come for me.”

White hot brightness exploded behind her eyes as pleasure wracked her body. Somewhere far away Juliet could hear Joel groaning as she tightened around his cock.

“Shit,” he breathed and the pressure on her hip increased as Joel pulled his cock out with a strangled groan.

“I’m gonna,” he choked out and Juliet stiffened as she felt heat explode over her stomach before Joel dropped his head, coated in sweat, in the space between her neck and shoulder.

Juliet instantly pushed her fingers into his damp hair, soothing him, whispering to him how good he made her feel. When his breathing slowed, Joel reached up and gingerly captured the wrist of her butchered hand before pulling it to his mouth and pressing his lips against her palm.

Juliet bit her lip to stop more tears from falling.

He pulled back until their eyes met, blinking slowly as their breaths found the same rhythm.

As she watched a wave of emotions ripple in Joel’s eyes, Juliet was struck by a sudden, fierce terror and realisation that, despite how perfect this moment was, it couldn’t last forever.

“I - I can’t ever lose you, Joel,” Juliet confessed as she sliced a hole in her soul and spilled its contents in front of him.

Joel shook his head as that signature line between his eyebrows deepened, and Juliet wanted to reach between them and run her finger over it, to learn everything that had caused it to form.

“You won’t lose me,” he assured her as he tilted her head towards him and his trembling lips found her forehead. “I’m yours.”

Juliet wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight, not willing to ever let go.

…………………

The following year passed quickly.

After a few weeks, the dust settled and Jackson’s community stopped questioning their strange disappearance. The looks thrown at Joel and Juliet when they walked through town, with Joel’s hand on the small of her back, died down after a while.

When early spring arrived, Joel convinced Tommy to let them back out on patrol, this time as partners. Juliet refused to let Joel go out without her, and vice versa, so it was really the only option. They were most at peace out on patrol; it reminded them of the months they’d travelled across the country, learning each other’s habits, realising they couldn’t be apart.

They watched each other’s back out in the open, then went home to the same house, and the same bed. Joel learned how to cook, more than just eggs, and made sure that Juliet never went without a meal. He cooked for others too, they invited Ethan and Charlotte over often for dinner, drinks, and board games. Sometimes Matt joined them too, making sure to sit as far away from Joel as possible.

A few months after they returned, Maria had her baby…

Juliet watched Joel become an uncle. She smiled with him as they played with Tommy’s daughter, then held him close at night when the memories grew too heavy for him to carry alone.

Jackson became a home for the both of them. Juliet had a place to fill with the books she collected on patrol, and Joel found a talent in wood carving. He surprised her with little carvings of things only the two of them would understand: like the monkey that sat on their kitchen windowsill, reminding them of Juliet’s shock at the university. And Juliet surprised Joel with a guitar, which he’d been attempting to teach her how to play. Juliet wasn’t very good but she liked the way Joel kissed her when she got a chord right, so she kept the lessons up.

The nightmares still found Juliet, some worse than others, but she didn’t wake up alone anymore. Joel was there to brush a hand over her hair and kiss her forehead, anchoring her to the present.

They got married the following year, in August when the grass was green and the sun warmed the air.

They stood in the field of an old farmhouse that was to be their new home, under a willow tree where wildflowers grazed their legs and snagged at Juliet’s dress. Joel had told her that back before the world ended, weddings were supposed to be officiated, but laws didn’t exist anymore so they just decided to do it themselves, not willing to share any part of the day with others.

Joel and Juliet exchanged rings at sunset, when the soft shades of orange and pink painted the sky. They whispered promises to each other in the ruins of a world where happy endings didn’t exist anymore, and yet they found one anyway.

When Joel pushed the ring onto Juliet’s finger, he wasn’t surprised when the heavens opened up and rain descended upon them. Juliet just tipped her head back and laughed, and Joel watched, mesmerised by the sight of her joy.

They kissed as the light faded, and Joel found that his own eyes burned as he reached to capture the tear that rolled down Juliet’s cheek before the rain stole it from him.

.......................................

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx @elli3williams

#joel miller #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #ao3 fanfic #joel miller hbo #joel miller angst #pedro pascal #tlou joel #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #Spotify #joel miller smut

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kaitaiga · 5 months ago

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Craig Alan Jones - Black Ops OC

GENERAL

Age: 46 (1981)

Birthday: 23 July, 1935 in Adelaide, South Australia

Occupation: SASR Trooper, ASIS Officer

Affiliation: Special Air Service Regiment (SASR)(Formerly), Australian Secret Intelligence Service (ASIS)

Rank: Lieutenant (Formerly)

Face Claim: Mel Gibson

Height: 186cm (6'1)

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

Eye Colour: Blue

Identifying Marks: Scarring on legs, mole on left cheek

Languages: English, Indonesian, Vietnamese (minimal), Russian (minimal)

Song Associated: Sharp Dressed Man - ZZ TOP

AFFILIATES

CIA

Russell Adler

Frank Woods

Alex Mason

Lawrence Sims

Lazar Azoulay

"Bell"

Aleksandra Clarke R. (@alypink)

MI6

Helen Park

New Zealand Army

Koa “Hunter” Nikau ( @islandtarochips )

Other

Abby Mason (@revnah1406)

PERSONALITY AND TRAITS

Myers-Briggs Type: ENTP-A

Generally, Craig is a relaxed but confident, goal-oriented individual.

He isn’t afraid to speak his mind when he has opposing views on a matter. He prides himself on his own experiences that have built said opinions, which may come off as arrogant at times.

Craig has a habit of working alone without noticing, working autonomously to get a job done. He is self-motivated and does what he thinks is best for an outcome.

As a trooper, he learnt to be adaptable and resourceful to any given situation.

SKILLS/SPECIALISATIONS

As an SASR trooper, Craig has to work in a smaller force element, therefore has undergone training in many different areas, including:

Parachuting (HALO/HAHO)

Combat Survival

CQB/CQC

Demolitions

Signaller

SF Weapons Handling (mounted heavy-weapons, sniper, etc)

Urban Combat

BACKSTORY

Craig was born on the 23rd of July, 1935 in Adelaide. Raised just outside of the main city, his father was part of the city council in Bradbury and lived well beyond his means. Craig attended prestigious primary and secondary schools but was always rebellious, preferring to skip going to school to commit petty crimes, tarnishing the family name as he knew that due to his father's status, he could bypass getting in trouble.

Due to this and in addition to not wanting to follow his father’s path of going to university and becoming part of the city council, this lead to many arguments between the two and at 16, he was thrown out of the house and had to fend for himself on the streets. Craig’s father, not wanting to have any association with him anymore, placed a fake obituary in the newspaper to officially cut ties with him.

For two years, Craig changed his identity and worked at a plant nursery before undergoing mandatory national service within the Australian Army at 18. He enjoyed his occupation and the perks that came along with it that he fully enlisted into the Army after his mandatory service finished and later into the Special Air Service Regiment (SASR) in 196X. He spent his first brief deployment in Borneo during the Indonesia-Malaysia conflict before shipping out to Nui Dat, Vietnam in 1966 as part of Sabre 1 squadron.

Unbeknownst to his unit whilst in Vietnam, Craig was ordered by ASIS to keep an eye out and investigate any intel that could hint towards any Soviet activity, passing anything he finds onto a CIA contact. This contact was revealed to be Russell Adler. The two become acquainted and would go onto Operation Fracture Jaw alongside Lawrence Sims.

For the remainder of the Vietnam War, Craig and the SASR continued to work closely with MACV-SOG, providing intel and support until 1971 where he returned to Australia. He truely florished in his time spent in the military, from a petty thief to an extraordinary soldier who lead his unit through countless battles, a great leader and mentor.

COLD WAR

Fast forward to 1981, Craig now works under ASIS as an intelligence officer. Due to his knowledge and intel of Perseus from Vietnam, plus his connections to Adler, he joins the crew at the CIA safehouse to help track him down once and for all.

Missions:

Fracture Jaw

Brick in the Wall

Echos of a Cold War

End of the Line

The Final Countdown

Two years later in 1983, Craig married his unnamed wife and thus his son Lachlan Jones was born.

TRIVIA

Craig prefers to wear his R.M Williams boots in the style, 'The Craftsman' in dark tan.

His main choice of attire includes: two button down shirts layered and unbuttoned (inner white and outer dark blue) with a brown leather bomber jacket on top, boot-cut blue jeans and a brown leather belt along with his boots.

Smokes occasionally, likes the brand 'Lucky Strike'.

Drives a red Mitsubishi Starion.

Favourite weapons include: HK MP5, Sterling Submachine Gun, Colt M16A1 and L9A1 Browining Hi-Power.

Frequently visits casinos and likes to gamble.

He prefers his coffee made black with lots of sugar.

#WHEW DONE #I'll add more at a later point but heres the CW stuff first hehe #i'll also add more ocs later too dw #but here craig!!#craig alan jones #call of duty #cod oc #call of duty oc #my oc #bocw oc #black ops oc #black ops cold war

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rando-simps-alot · 2 years ago

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Simp list (canon)

In chronological order

“[Outdated]” is a character i no longer like, for whatever reason, however I keep them on the list for historical record

10 is MMMMMMMMMM 1 is kinda smash

1. Spanish moon (five nights at Freddy’s security breach) 10/10

2. Sun (five nights at Freddy’s security breach) 9/10

3. Moon (five nights at Freddy’s security breach) 10/10

4. Clover (@inks-ns original character) 10/10

5. Sammy Lawrence (bendy and the ink machine/bendy and the dark revival) 11/10

6. NeIL (@sillystanleystuff original character) 10/10

7. The ink demon (bendy and the dark revival) 7/10

8. Peter (your boyfriend game) 0/10 [Outdated]

9. John Doe (John doe game) 7/10

10. Alan Orion (my dear hatchet man) 9/10

11. Ren (14 days with you) 7/10

12. Loki (@you-are-a-superstar original character) 10/10

13. N (murder drones) 10/10

14. Audrey drew (bendy and the dark revival) 3/10

15. Monika (doki doki literature club) 7/10

16. The projectionist (bendy and the ink machine) 6/10

17. Lord heart (@inks-ns original character) 8/10

18. Lord storm (@inks-ns original character)8/10

19. Meteorite (@inks-ns original character)8/10

20. Volo (Pokemon legends Arceus) 10/10

21. Betty (bendy and the dark revival) 10/10

22. Keepers (bendy and the dark revival) 4/10

23. Max (@aboutchicken298’s original character) 5/10

24. Springtrap (five nights at Freddy’s) 5/10

25. William afton (five nights at Freddy’s the fourth closest graphic novel) 8/10

26. Emo boy ink demon (by @iilusion-of-living) 10/10

27. The jester (@iilusion-of-living’s original character)5/10

28. Withered bonnie (five nights at Freddy’s 2) 5/10

29. Simon (@sillystanleystuff’s original character) 8/10

30. Fell sans 😞 (due to @kazachi69’s amazing video) 10/10

31. Eclipse (five nights at Freddy’s security breach) 10/10

32. Sarah (@you-are-a-superstar’s original character) 7/10

33. HoR (@sillystanleystuff’s original character) 9/10

34. Blood Moon (the Sun and Moon show) 8/10

35. Scout (@sillystanleystuff’s original character) 9/10

36. Lovesick Sun (@inks-ns’s original character) 9/10

37. Lovesick moon (@inks-ns’s original character) 9/10

38. Vampire moon (by @xitsensunmoon) 10/10

39. Timekeeper (Stanly parable untra-delux) 8/10

40. Roxanne wolf (five nights at Freddy’s security breach) 7/10

41. Cyn (murder drones) 10/10

42. Father Grigori (half life 2) 6/10

43. Satan (the Bible) 5/10

44. Twisted Alice (bendy and the ink machine/bendy and the dark revival) 8/10

45. Nightmare sans (due to @glitchysquidd) 7/10

46. Gavril (Gavril) 9/10

47. Shattered Dream sans (thanks kaz) 8/10

48. Kerlineo (@iilusion-of-living’s original character) 6/10

49. Dust sans (thanks @monsterroonio) 8/10

50. Megaira (@sillystanleystuff’s original character) 9/10

51. Leya (@sillystanleystuff’s original character) 9/10

52. Bill cipher (Gravity Falls)

53. Dr. Jekyll (The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) 8/10

54. Mr. Hyde (The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) 8/10

55. Ruin Eclipse (Five nights at Freddy’s Security Breach: Ruin) 10/10

56. Ruin Sun (Five nights at Freddy’s Security Breach: Ruin) 7/10

57. Ruin Moon (Five nights at Freddy’s Security Breach: Ruin) 5/10

58. Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) 9/10

59. Cthulhu (H. P. Lovecraft) 5/10

60. Winston (1984) 6/10

61. General Grievous (Star wars) 6/10

62. Eclipse (Sun and Moon show) 3/10

63. Jax (The amazing digital circus) 9/10

64. ROOM (@cursedxbf’s oc on ref sheet and pixel art)

65. Mr. Hyde (Mazm: Jekyll and Hyde)

66. Lucifer (hazbin hotel)

67. Husker (Hazbin hotel)

68. Vox (Hazbin hotel)

69. funny number is reserved for the time being

70. angel dust (hazbin hotel)

Please ignore any trends related to Yandere or sharp teeth, they are coincidences

37 characters until 100

Below are stats

22/51 on the list are robots

4/51 are confirmed human

35/51 are men

8/51 are women

8/51 idk their gender

9/51 are inky

18/51 are my friends ocs

28/51 are from or based on a horror franchise

1/51 have no canon form

0/51 are 1s

0/51 are 2s

2/51 are 3s

1/51 are 4s

5/51 are 5s

1/51 are 6s

8/51 are 7s

10/51 are 8s

9/51 are 9s

9/51 are 10s

1/51 are 11s

6/51 are alterations of existing characters

Stats Last updated at 51 characters (6/28/23)

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forest-falcon · 8 months ago

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Whumpy/Angsty WIP

Trigger warning for blood, angst, shock, whump.

OCs: Tamara Fielding, Jonesy and Mac who work with Captain Cass McCready as firefighters.

💚♥️🚒👨‍🚒👩‍🚒🧑‍🚒

As far as Virgil could tell, only two figures had stood in the direct path of the falling glass; Alan, and the firefighter who had pushed him to safety.

Alan was clearly unharmed; already scrambling to his feet, ready to assess the situation. He may be the youngest Tracy, but he was International Rescue material through-and-through.

The firefighter who had dived to save Alan, however, was still curled in the same position on the floor. Her fire jacket, and the settling dust, making it nearly-impossible to tell whether Alan's Good Samaritan was even breathing.

Please be alive, please be alive…

Maybe, by some sheer miracle, she had dodged the shards unscathed?

Maybe, she was simply lying and waiting for the immediate danger to pass?

Another second, and her ragged breathing became apparent.

Shit.

At least she was alive. He could work with alive.

"TAM!" Jonesy dashed towards his prone friend.

"Wait!" Virgil made a quick scan of his immediate surroundings.

Of course, the fire helmets were properly stored, and not immediately reachable in the decimated foyer. He'd have to improvise.

There was an upturned coffee table. That could work.

"Okay, with me" he gestured, using the table for cover from further debris.

Alan had followed suit, sheltering under the canopy of a firefighter's jacket.

Admittedly, the risk of further falling glass was relatively low - a large portion of the roof above them was now sky, but the wind outside had picked up, toppling the odd piece of loose rubble with a flurry of silt.

Virgil knelt whilst simultaneously removing his plaid shirt.

The casualty's fingers were hovering, quivering above a ragged piece of glass protruding from her abdomen.

"Tam, was it?"

"T-Tam-mmm-m," she nodded as she shivered.

"Short for Tamara." Jonesy offered.

"Tam, I'm Virgil. I'm going to need you to lie nice and still for me."

"O-k-kay…”

The firefighter gave a small laugh as a few rogue tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

“I'm o-kay. M'okay. M’kay. This is ..fineee!" Tam grinned against the tears, as though merely rejecting the situation would suffice

Virgil bunched his shirt and gently guided the woman's quivering fingers away from the wound.

What he'd give for his baldric right now.

"Tam, I know it's hard, but I'd like you to focus on your breathing for me...nice n' steady. Try to control the shivering if you can. We want this wound nice n' still."

"D... don't know...w-why... I'm...sh-shivering so m-much. Doesn't hurt that much...if-f-f I s-stay s-still."

Jonesy was staring at him. A silent conversation passing between the first responders.

Confident the risk of further glass falling was negligible; Jonesy set the desk down to shield Tam's eyes from dust. Sliding himself under the table, he reached for his friend.

"Hold my hands."

"M-M'okay" Tam's protest was feeble, and somewhat pointless, given that she conceded with a simple look.

"I'm sorry Tam, but this will likely hurt." Virgil apologised as he covered the wound (barring the glass) with his shirt.

"Alan, I need you to keep the pressure on this for me, while I set up an IV."

Fielding's sharp wail flooded the room, before fading to a choked whimper as the pain swallowed her voice.

"Ambulance should be with us in five." Mac called.

Five minutes? She'd bleed out in that time.

"Great, thanks," he mustered with as much positivity as his voice could muster.

Virgil rummaged through the medical rucksack for supplies. There must be something...anything, that could buy them some time. First thing’s first; IV.

He turned back to Alan, who was staring at the darkening shirt, his arms slack.

"Like this." Virgil manually guided Alan's hands back down to put pressure back on the wound. His brother's hands were surprisingly cold and clammy.

He's going into shock.

Virgil willed the thought away. Alan was a professional, he'd seen numerous rescues - some arguably worse than this. And right now, he could use all the help he could get.

Professionals aren't immune to trauma, though. She saved his life, possibly at the expense of her own. You need to watch him.

As soon as Virgil removed his hands from Alan's, the necessary pressure was gone again. Jonesy was quick to fill in for Alan, though his face wore a similar shade of grey.

Alan slowly stood, staring at the blood still slick on his palms. He continued to stare as he silently stumbled away in no particular direction.

Virgil tapped at his watch and dialed his emergency code.

Within moments, John's voice washed over him like a tonic.

"Virgil, you've activated your emergency beacon."

"Multi-casualty situation. Building’s unstable. Alan's in shock. Require urgent assistance."

"FAB, we're on our way."

"Your status, Thunderbird Two?"

"Uninjured."

"S-s-lot of-blood. M' S-scared." Tam continued to shiver.

"Hey, hey Tam. Look at me. Look at me."

Wide eyes fixed on his.

"Do you trust me?"

Tam gave a hesitant half-nod.

"You just saved my youngest brother. Do you think there's even a chance I'd let anything happen to you?"

The prone firefighter managed a weak smile.

"I mean, a feat like that's gotta be worth...oooh...at least two drinks at a London bar."

"Two whole drinks, huh?" Her voice was breathy.

"Have you seen London prices? Last time Scottie and myself were here, they charged him £35 for a small measure of whisky! £35! Even I needed a drink after that."

Tam's smile grew a fraction before her eyes suddenly rolled back, and her head lolled to the side.

"Tam? Tam?”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderwhump #thunderangst #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy

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skeefee-sky · 2 months ago

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ALSO ALSO! (last thing i'm gonna post tonight, i promise xD) i was browsing some Thunderfam blogs 👀 and found a couple conversations mentioning the Tracys playing Among Us.

WELL! (lemme just, slide this under a read-more. warning for, slight blood and, sharp pointy things-)

while i was searching for my thundertober thing, i found something else in my folders! and... omg.... xD you know those picrew things you can do? where you create characters and ocs and stuff? i did one for the boys back in,,, 2020, i believe >w<

used this one specifically-!

and... guess who was bored just now... and remade it? <w<

added Kayo :D Scott's suit is white cause, there's no grey c': He's sus of both Alan and John. John's suit is dark blue not orange because,,, he literally blended in with all the orange and i was like, nuh-uh xD if it's not obvious, Alan is the imposter xD Kayo got stuck, getting caught near Alan, so she's also sus. Virgil's the detective; he was sus of Kayo at first but then.. yeah >w< Gordon was the first to d-... perish x'D his hampter's name is Squiddel (like 'squirrel' but, not x'D)

#sky's rambles #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #among us #thunderbirds x among us #??? tagsss xD #this is a ramble bcus i'm eepy xD #and found it amusing #OKAY! goodnight thunderfam <3

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muiitoloko · 10 months ago

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My Commoner

Summary: Sarah, a healer with common origins, embarks on a mission alongside the arrogant and disdainful Sir Rickman to locate and confront a witch who poses a threat to the kingdom.

Pairing: Knight!Alan Rickman × Commoner!OC

Warning: Power dynamics, mistreatment, and a power imbalance between characters.

Author's Notes: I don't know if I'll do more chapters of this and turn it into a series, the fanfic got lost in my drafts and I decided to post it after changing some things, I'm going through a bad period of author's block. Who knows, it might help me write more if you guys like this.

Sarah, feeling the weight of exhaustion, continued to watch over Sir Rickman as he slept. Two days had passed since they embarked on the treacherous journey, and it had been exactly two days since Sarah last closed her eyes. Commanded to keep watch while the knight rested, Sarah's weariness was evident, but her duty compelled her to remain vigilant.

As the moon cast its silvery glow over the campsite, Sarah fought against the heaviness in her eyelids. The rustling of leaves and distant sounds of the night seemed to taunt her with the promise of sleep. Yet, the relentless command echoed in her mind – to stay awake and alert for any potential danger.

Sarah, a commoner and a servant of King Robert's castle, found herself thrust into the unforgiving world beyond the castle walls. Her knowledge of healing had marked her as a valuable asset for this quest against the witch tormenting the kingdoms. However, her role was far from prestigious; she was a mere watcher, assigned to keep the arrogant and ruthless Sir Alan Rickman safe during his rest.

Sir Rickman, the best knight in King Robert II's service, embodied the disdainful attitude that many nobles held toward commoners. Sarah, despite her healing abilities, was no exception to his scorn. The journey had become an arduous test of endurance, with Sir Rickman's threats hanging over her head.

The campfire flickered, casting dancing shadows that played tricks on Sarah's tired eyes. She couldn't shake the weariness that settled in her bones, the desperate desire to surrender to sleep. But she dared not defy Sir Rickman's command, for the consequences were dire – the threat of her life being severed by the sharp edge of his blade.

As the night wore on, Sarah's mind wavered between the urgency of her duty and the overwhelming pull of sleep. She watched Sir Rickman's figure, his snores filling the night air. In the quiet moments, her thoughts wandered to her life within the castle, where she was raised by maids, devoid of knowledge about her parents and bearing no surname.

Sir Rickman, married to Princess Margaret, the daughter of King Robert II, held a position of power. His disdain for his wife and his arrogant demeanor extended to all commoners, treating them as beneath his notice. Despite this, Sarah, bound by duty and a sense of survival, had little choice but to endure his presence and heed his commands.

The forest, alive with nocturnal sounds, became a surreal backdrop to Sarah's struggle against sleep. Her eyelids drooped, and her senses dulled, but the fear of consequences kept her on the edge of wakefulness. The moon, an indifferent witness to her plight, continued its silent journey across the night sky.

Sarah, the commoner who had lived her entire life within the castle's confines, now found herself entangled in a perilous quest. The hunt for the witch held the promise of danger, but the immediate threat came from the very man she was tasked to watch over.

As the night deepened, Sarah's weariness reached its peak. The struggle between her need for rest and the peril of disobedience intensified. The distant hoots of an owl seemed to echo the warnings in her mind, a reminder of the precarious balance between survival and sacrifice.

In the early hours of the morning, Alan awoke to the feeble glow of the campfire. His eyes focused on Sarah, the commoner who had struggled to keep the flames alive through the night. The warmth that once flickered in the fire now waned, mirroring the tension between the knight and the reluctant guardian of the common folk.

As Sarah began to stir the remnants of the fire to life, Alan sat up, the creaking of his armor punctuating the quiet morning. Adjusting the leather straps and securing his sword, he cast a disdainful gaze upon the commoner attending to the campsite.

"Leave this," he grumbled, dismissing her efforts. "Go wake up and feed the horses. We'll be leaving soon, and I won't tolerate delays."

Sarah, her movements slowed by the lingering exhaustion, managed a tired acknowledgment. She attempted to shake off the remnants of sleep from her eyes before venturing toward the horses tethered nearby. The silent exchange spoke volumes – an arrogant knight demanding obedience, and a commoner navigating the delicate balance between duty and survival.

While Sarah attended to the horses, Alan stood, his armor gleaming in the dim light of dawn. The air carried the tension between them, a silent battlefield where each gesture and command reinforced the hierarchy that defined their roles.

"Make haste, commoner," Alan barked, his impatience evident. "We've wasted enough time."

Sarah, her response muffled by the distance, simply nodded and continued with her assigned tasks. The morning sun began to cast its golden hues across the landscape, painting a deceptive facade of serenity over the underlying conflict.

As the sun began to cast its morning glow over the clearing, Alan surveyed their surroundings with a calculated gaze. The knowledge of their route was etched in his mind, and the village awaited them in three days. A subtle confidence crept into his demeanor, his certainty in the path ahead evident.

Amidst the quiet anticipation, Sarah approached the knight, her voice respectful yet cautious. "The horses are ready, Sir Rickman. Would you desire something to break your fast?"

Alan, seemingly disinterested, questioned, "Do we still have fruit in our bags?"

Sarah nodded, confirming, "Yes, we do."

"Then we shall eat that to break the fast," Alan declared, a command that brooked no argument. The practicality of sustenance took precedence over any consideration for comfort.

As Sarah attended to the provisions, Alan's gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, his mind undoubtedly focused on the impending journey. The delicate dance between the commoner and the knight continued, the unspoken power dynamics woven into their every interaction.

The morning unfolded, painting the scene with hues of gold, while the duo prepared to resume their quest. The village, a distant promise on the horizon, held the key to unraveling the mysteries surrounding the witch tormenting the kingdoms. Yet, for Sarah, it also held the potential for a reprieve from the nightly struggles in the open wilderness.

The journey pressed on, a relentless march toward the elusive resolution that lingered on the horizon. Alan, mounted on his steed, exuded authority, and Sarah, the reluctant guardian, navigated the complexities of servitude with resilience born from necessity.

As they set forth, the horses carrying them towards the destiny that awaited in the village, the shadows of the forest whispered tales of both peril and possibility. The dichotomy of their roles lingered, a silent undercurrent that shaped the narrative of this unlikely partnership against the backdrop of a medieval realm.

Sarah rode behind Alan while eating an apple, trying desperately not to fall asleep. Two days of riding non-stop, two days without sleep, were starting to take their toll. Hesitant, Sarah glanced at Sir Rickman, swallowing her pride before asking if she could pose a question.

Alan arrogantly replied, "You're already asking a question, commoner. Spit it out."

Gathering her courage, Sarah finally voiced her plea, "Sir Rickman, may we stop to rest? I am weary, and my eyes can barely stay open. A moment to sleep would do me good."

Abruptly stopping his horse, Alan turned his steed around to face her. Sarah quickly pulled on her horse's reins, the tiredness evident in her eyes as she met Alan's gaze. The air grew tense as the knight regarded her request.

"You dare ask for rest?" Alan sneered, his disdain cutting through the weariness. "We have a task to accomplish, and your trivial need for sleep shall not delay us."

Sarah, undeterred, spoke with a firmness that defied her common status, "Sir Rickman, I am but human, and exhaustion plagues even the strongest. A brief rest will rejuvenate me, ensuring I can continue to serve as your watcher effectively."

Alan's eyes bore into Sarah, his disdain palpable. "Who do you think you are, a Lady?" he spat with arrogance. "You're nothing more than a filthy and worthless commoner. If you believe for a moment that I will halt the entire journey for your rest, you are sorely mistaken. You must learn your place."

Sarah, feeling anger bubbling within, her exhaustion momentarily overshadowed by defiance, responded in a tone that surprised even herself. "Sir Rickman, I may be a commoner, but I am not without value. A well-rested watcher is more useful to you than one who collapses from exhaustion. Allow me a brief respite, and I assure you, I will fulfill my duty more effectively."

Alan dismounted his horse, the clinking of his armor accentuating the tension. He walked towards Sarah, pulling her abruptly from her horse. Sarah, caught off guard, let out a startled scream, her apple dropping to the ground as Alan's grip tightened.

"Did you dare to question me?" Alan growled, towering over her. "Know your place, commoner. Your worth is in your silence and obedience."

Sarah, fear coursing through her, stammered, "I... I meant no disrespect, Sir Rickman. I only thought..."

Alan interrupted with a harsh laugh. "You thought? Commoners like you don't think. You obey. This journey is not about your comfort; it's about fulfilling your duty. Now, pick up that apple and tend to the horses. We move on."

As Sarah, shaken and subdued, retrieved the fallen apple, the power dynamics between the arrogant knight and the commoner became even more pronounced. The journey continued, the shadows of the forest concealing the struggles and conflicts that unfolded beneath the surface of their uneasy alliance.

The duo rode for another two hours, Sarah silently enduring the weariness that clung to her every movement. Alan, seemingly impervious to exhaustion, abruptly halted and dismounted his horse. Sarah, following suit, avoided questioning his odd decision to stop while it was still daylight.

Tying the horses to a nearby tree, Sarah tended to their needs, ensuring they were fed. Approaching Alan, who sat against a tree with an air of impatience, she cautiously inquired, "Sir Rickman, is there anything you require?"

Alan, arms crossed and gaze fixed ahead, grumbled, "Rest, commoner. You'll be of no use if you collapse from fatigue."

Surprised by his unexpected consideration, Sarah nodded gratefully and sought a quiet corner to rest after lighting a fire. As she settled down, the fatigue that had been haunting her finally caught up. The forest, once a daunting backdrop, became a cocoon of tranquility as she succumbed to the embrace of much-needed sleep.

As the hours passed, the sun descended, relinquishing its throne to the moon and stars. Alan, true to his relentless nature, maintained a vigilant watch over the campsite. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows on his weathered face, the lines etched by years of unwavering service to the crown.

Observing the commoner, Sarah, sleeping peacefully, Alan grunted, acknowledging the necessity of allowing her rest. However, any semblance of compassion was swiftly denied within the fortress of his pride. His decision to let her rest was not born out of concern for her well-being but rather a calculated move to preserve her functionality for the mission.

"Commoner or not, she serves a purpose," Alan muttered to himself, as if reaffirming the transactional nature of their alliance. The fire's glow reflected in his steely eyes, concealing the complexities that lay beneath the armor of a seasoned knight.

The moon ascended higher, and the stars adorned the night sky like distant witnesses to the unfolding drama. Alan, driven by an unyielding commitment to the mission, rose from his seated position. He surveyed the surroundings with the precision of a seasoned warrior, ensuring that no threat lurked in the shadows.

As he tended to the fire, sparks dancing into the darkness, Alan's thoughts remained fixed on the impending confrontation with the witch. The well-being of a commoner was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It was the success of the mission that dictated every decision, every sacrifice.

Denying himself the acknowledgment of any sentiment towards Sarah, Alan brooded over the strategic aspects of their journey. He pondered the upcoming challenges, the terrain, and the potential traps laid by the elusive witch. The weight of past victories bore down on him, and failure was an outcome he deemed unacceptable.

As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Alan's stern countenance betrayed no hint of the internal conflict spurred by his decision to allow Sarah rest. The commoner's fate, like that of others beneath his station, was inconsequential when weighed against the success of the mission.

In the quiet hours of the night, as the moon held its silent vigil and the stars whispered tales of both conquest and sacrifice, Alan's gaze lingered on the slumbering figure of Sarah. Her vulnerability, hidden in the peaceful reprieve of sleep, went unnoticed by the knight who only saw her as a means to an end.

With the fire casting its glow upon him, Alan steeled himself against any sentiment that threatened to cloud his judgment. The quietude of the forest embraced the dichotomy of their roles – the arrogant knight and the commoner bound by duty, both navigating the treacherous path towards an uncertain destiny.

#alan rickman #knight #Middle Ages #alan rickman x reader #Alan rickman x oc #a more vibe #Severus Snape #with #judge turpin

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courtofmatchups · 3 months ago

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You're out here doing the lords work, and I need to thank you for scratching the itch in my brain lol. Good fortune for you and your loved ones, may the lines you encounter always be short, and may you have endless creativity. Hell yeah, brother.

Could I ask for a Tokyo Debunker matchup? I'm willing to do a trade, too, if you're interested! I've only written for a few characters between Obey Me and tkdb, but I'd def love to repay the kindness.

So, hi. I'm Birds, or Birdy. She/her, bisexual/maybe ace? gray-ace? one of those, at least.

Appearance: 5'9, pale, super wavy dark blonde/light brown hair, and hazel eyes. I have a deceptively cute round face and big glasses. i've been told that I give off a naturally sweet and impish impression because of that. I'm also fairly slim, but there's definitely a layer of chicken nugget insulation for warmth and comfort.

MBTI/Zodiac: INFP and Gemini

About me: I tend to spend most of my time in my head, and I can easily come off as ditzy or standoffish. I have inattentive ADHD and I'm really introverted, so typically I try not to speak up unless I have something worth saying. I keep a few close friends and tend to unload all of my thoughts from the day on them (and as quiet as I am, I talk a mile a minute when I'm excited or explaining something interesting.) Multiple people have told me (to my face c':) that they were shocked by how intelligent I actually am. And yeah, maybe math and spelling aren't my thing, but for the most part, my silly goose hat is a choice. I have trouble speaking my thoughts out loud, so I'm a big fan of burying my negative emotions as deep as possible until i'm a walking shell of a person, self-sabotaging, and using swear words or memes to express myself. But what I lack in, like, everything else, I make up for by being as good of a friend as possible. I love making the people I care about laugh just as much as I love messing with them and I'm willing to make myself look like a fool to make them smile.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, sewing, and then whatever little hobbies I pick up and then forget about in a week. A fun fact about me is that I once spent over 8 hours on the phone my best friend doing nothing but discussing our oc's.

Likes: spooky/whimsical things, fairy lights, making my loved ones laugh and/or roll their eyes, small, comfortable nooks to hide in, music (any genre, it's just gotta match the vibes), dating sims, fandom history (putting together a legit presentation on the history of zines in fan studies rn), and holding hands c:

Dislikes: Loud places, bright lights, speaking to people without being able to prepare myself, not having headphones somewhere on me, people who go out of their way to be mean, objectively dumb opinions being said confidently, and any perceived wrong done to my loved ones

Qualities I look for: Patience and physical affection. I'm a forgetful mess and I'm mean enough to myself without someone else getting frustrated with me, and casual affection like hugs and hand holding give me something to ground myself with. They'd need to see me as a partner and best friend rather than Conventionally Attractive Girl, too. My Manic Pixie has been Dream Girl'ed more than enough.

Thank you again!

It seems to me you've captured the heart of...

Haku Kusanagi!

I could see a few others being potential matches, Like Alan or Haru, but I feel like Haku would be the best match for you. Hear me out: I feel like he'd be initially drawn in by your silly and whimsical nature. Haku likes being around sharp and witty people. He's pretty easygoing and will tease you, but he doesn't go out of his way to be mean. He does tease you about being in the clouds at times, but he does like that dreamy side of you. He's not too picky about appearances when it comes to partners, so even more reason he's a great match for you.

As for your tendency to yap about anything that interests you, you can bet that he would like to see you get so animated about the things you like, but you might need to slow it down so he could understand what you're talking about. He will tell you though.

Haku doesn't really have a set preference for hobbies, he just enjoys making memories with his partner, so any hobby either of you choose to do would be a fun and stimulating experience.

Haku is also pretty emotionally intelligent, so he'll be able to help walk you through the emotions you're feeling. He's a patient man, and will understand if you mess up for one reason or another. He'll also help if that happens. And don't worry about physical affection, he will shower you with that in the event you're feeling down and cannot articulate your feelings in a way other than "I need a hug right now."

All in all, I see a happy relationship between the two of you

#court of matchups #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker matchups #haku kusanagi

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lucifers-horror-harem · 1 year ago

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I'll Do Anything

WOAH Look at me I actually finished something!!! Insane right? This time around, I managed to kick my ass into gear and write something for @the-slasher-files Blood Fest! I decided to do something with my OC Alan, and while it doesn't get into smut territory, I think you'll all agree that a tad bit of murder can be erotic.

Warnings: Murder, knives, stabbing, allusions to noncon Word Count: 1.2k Prompts: Found Footage. Gore. Keywords: Nightmare. Ravenous.

She looked so small on his phone screen. Even smaller than she was right now, tied up on the floor, tears streaking down her cheeks, whining pitifully. He was silent as he circled her, getting her from every angle. He wanted to make sure this moment was captured forever. Considering the mess she had made for him, he wasn’t going to let this go without some sort of consolation prize on his end.

Alan crouched down to the woman, who was struggling to sit up with her hands tied behind her. Feeling oh so generous, his free hand gripped her hair, yanking her up as she yelped sharply, her eyes meeting his. He could never get over the frantic look in a person’s eyes when they realized they’d fucked up royally. They were looking at the person who controlled their future. And that future was incredibly bleak.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sharpe-”

He yanked harder, causing her to cry out. “Oh, I’m sure you are. Considering you got caught.” He clicked his tongue. “How stupid to think I wouldn’t find out.” He couldn’t fault her too much though. They’re called hidden cameras for a reason, after all. He wouldn’t have put those other gaudy obnoxious security cameras in his own home. Even he would feel a bit uneasy with that.

The woman wouldn’t meet his eye, so he dragged her harshly until she laid back on the kitchen floor. She looked up at him and cried out as he knelt over her body, the phone still capturing this moment. Her wails were pitiful, and he might have cared if she were a halfway decent cleaner to begin with. He thought he’d vetted her properly, but apparently not. Perhaps he’d gotten a bit lax. That was his fault.

“You’ve seen things you shouldn’t have. Been in rooms I told you were expressly forbidden.” He snorted. “Are you really that dense not to realize there might have been a reason for that?” When she didn’t answer, merely continuing to cry, he continued. “Well, sadly for you, it wasn’t valuables I was hiding in my office for you to pawn.”

“I won’t tell-”

“You’re goddamn right you won’t tell,” Alan’s voice dropped low, venomous. “We’re going to make sure of that.”

Deft fingers slid to his pant leg, lifting it up just enough to reveal the knife holster. For times like these. She struggled beneath him, but he held firm, keeping her still between his knees as he brought the blade to her face, the camera capturing the stillness of her expression as he traced the sharp tip over her features. He flicked a lock of hair back, nicking her in the process. She flinched, bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she closed her eyes and tried to escape this nightmare. How foolish of her. It wouldn’t be that easy.

Alan traced the cut on her cheek with his thumb, collecting the little red line before sticking it in his mouth to taste the metallic tang. Her fear was palpable, and he couldn’t deny that everything he did now was explicitly to prolong the inevitable. But she didn’t know that. Perhaps she thought there was still some sort of way out of this. Some little glimmer of hope. He’d have to snuff it out.

“Tell me, what exactly did you see?” Alan asked, leaning forward to force her to look him in the eye. “I’ve got quite a few files in that desk. Could’ve been anything.” But there were more in the safe behind the wall. There wasn’t a chance in Hell she could’ve sniffed that one out. “Maybe we can work something out. Depending on what you saw.”

It was a lie. He knew there was a good chance she’d lie. It didn’t matter what exactly she saw, but that she saw any of it. He supposed she’s regretting not just minding her own business and doing her job now. Considering how much he was paying her to clean an already tidy penthouse.

“Bank statements for overseas accounts, that’s all! I swear!”

The knife twirls dangerously close to her throat. “Are you certain?”

She blubbers some sort of affirmative. He doesn’t really care. He’s growing a bit tired of the game.

“I’ll do anything you want just please, don’t kill me!”

And there it is. Words he’s heard so many times before. He chuckles darkly, cocking his head as he taps the flat of the knife against her cheek. “Whatever I want, hmm? People say that all the time. But they never really realize what that truly means.

“First,” Alan’s voice lowers as he grabs her throat, breath hot against her cheeks. “I’d use you however I see fit, considering you’re a bit tied up at the moment.” His knife trails down her throat, skimming her exposed clavicle. He toys the tip of it around the top button of her blouse before trailing back up. “Then, I’d have to spend a few days making sure no one would be looking for you. Send some emails, texts, doctor some images on Instagram, all of that good stuff. That’s the hardest part.” His thumb presses into her throat, enough to make her breathing stutter. “Only after all that is settled, will I keep you for myself until you either break down completely or amuse me enough to keep you around.” He smirks as he looks into her frightened eyes. “Doesn’t that sound like a lovely time?”

She says nothing and simply continues to cry. Alan looks down at her, this pathetic woman who can barely hold herself together. He’s given her an out, of course, but it seems she doesn’t want to live badly enough. Not many do when he explicitly lays it out for them what he wants.

“I thought so.”

Before she can even realize what’s happening, the blade comes down hard on her sternum, a wet crunch filling the air as she desperately gasps for air. The phone is dropped and forgotten by now. He wants both hands for this. His grin widens as he briefly removes the blade and plunges it down again, her breath wet and ragged. With his other hand, he smacks it down on the holt, pushing it even deeper with a sickening crunch as blood stains his hands. Weak hands try to push him away, but he pulls the blade down with both hands, tearing into the viscera and hitting bone. He twists the blade, the notches catching whatever hasn’t already been shredded.

There are cleaner ways to have killed her. But something within him keeps craving that warmth spilling out of her, staining his suit and hands and face as he pierces her flesh over and over. His arms feel like lead each and every time it comes down onto her torso, but it doesn’t matter to him. This insatiable and ravenous need to tear her apart, make a mess, and take his stress out, was the only thing he could care about.

Finally, at long last, he let the knife clatter to the floor beside her. Her eyes had been long since void of life. He pushes himself off her, sitting on the linoleum with his legs still thrown over her body, catching his breath. Bloodied hands run over his face and through his hair, a low groan as he looks over the carnage. It already feels tacky on his skin, like a face mask that has overstayed its welcome. Ice blue eyes narrow at the sight before him, fingers tangled in his black curls before his shaky hands fall back beside him.

How ironic that the cleaner was the one who’d make such a goddamn mess?

#sfbf23 #OC: Alan Sharpe #slasher oc #yandere oc

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