#and faded giant… earth

[activatebutterflyshield]

Dull Sword the Warp Horned Unicorn, for whom I actually had to think about horse anatomy. I think it’d look very nice in heraldry.

[timmydraker]

Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.

[leafyeyes417]

Danny was tired. Tucker and Sam had drifted away over the duration of high school. The ghost attacks and danger had been the main factor that started the dissipation of their friendship. Jazz had left for college a while ago leaving him to deal with his parents alone. He had eventually created his own secret base and left the house permanently even if it was technically illegal at 16. No one noticed since he still went to school.

Including being a teen hero who wasn’t appreciated in Amity just was the icing on the cake. After receiving approval from clockwork and mastering his portal abilities, he closed the portal down. It wasn’t easy to do but he made sure everyone was out of the blast range when it shut down. The Fenton house was gone but it hadn’t been home for quite some time.

It was because he was so tired that he was where he was. Drifting out of Earth’s atmosphere, Danny let himself luxuriate in the feeling of space. It made his core hum pleasantly. He moved to a good spot still in Earth’s gravity and curled up and just let himself drift along in a haze. He toned down his glow and his body started to slowly fade into the space around him till he was practically invisible.

He floated in this haze for probably a week, slowly recuperating and feeling himself slowly change. There was no one to miss him for any length of time and he wasn’t worried about his human life at all. Honestly he probably would have drifted longer but something woke him up. Some guy yelling about conquering Earth or something.

Annoyed at being woken up by a fruitloop Danny allowed his form to grow with the power of space he collected and snarled out a “Oy fruitloop! I was woken up because of you! Shut up already!” and smacked him into the sun with a giant hand. Turning his ire on the army with the fruitloop he quickly sent them flying with a blast of power. It would take them many years to gather up again with how hard he sent them flying.

Huffing, he turned and glanced at the group of people left. Shrinking down he spoke and gestures wildly. “I was taking the best nap of my afterlife and was woken up by those pests. You gotta better place I can nap?”

Luckily someone was quick to let him know they had a place. He was guided to a space station soon after and was soon sleeping on the comfiest bed ever.

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

The witch in the woods

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 9.4k

Summary: You dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. The one you've seen ever since you were little. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go and this time, she took you farther than you've ever been, to a place you could hardly believe existed. When you wake and make your way to the woods, you finally find her... But there is a monster after you too. Running for your life, you let her lead you to a temple. A place where her revelations will change your life forever.

Warnings: This is a bit dark. Descriptions of death and violence, descriptions of past abuse and imprisonment... This will feature a slightly dark Wanda.

Masterlist with all my works.

You woke up with a start in the middle of the night, cold sweat covering your body, your chest heaving and your heart beating wildly. You’d dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. You remember her plush lips forming words you couldn’t quite make out, the sound of her voice drowned out, as if there was an invisible wall between you. It was always like that. You didn’t dream of her every day, you’d gone weeks without seeing her, yet when you dreamt of her, it was always like this. Ever since you were little. You could see her quite clearly, but you could never hear her. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go, but if she ever reached out, tried to touch you, you could always feel that wall between you, separating you, pushing her back. Tonight was the same. You had travelled the familiar path in the forest, the same one she always led you through, until you had reached a strange stone structure, carved into the face of a cliff. You’d never seen that before. She’d never managed to take you this far, before you woke. The structure was built like an ancient temple with an entryway, just large enough for a single person to pass through and though it seemed abandoned, you could see the light of torches flickering there. The woman beckoned you closer, walking backwards, her eyes fixed on you as she passed the two stone giants that stood guard in this ancient place and made her way inside. She stood in the light of the torches, her shadow spilling across the dusty stone floor, as she curled a single finger, inviting you to step through.

You tried, your steps light, as if you were walking on clouds, but as soon as you tried to pass through the threshold, an invisible force held you back. You could step no further than this. And no matter how much the woman held out her hand and offered it to you, you could not take it. She seemed to realize it first and her expression seemed to change, a flash of anger showing, before it was gone. It happened so quickly, you almost thought you imagined it. But when you looked at her, all you saw in her eyes was longing. And then determination, as she extended her hand again. But the more she tried to reach you, the more your surroundings seemed to fade. You tried to reach out for her too, instinctively looking for something or someone to hold on to, but it made it worse. The ground beneath you gave way and suddenly you were falling, deep into the earth and away from her, trying to grasp something or try to break your fall, but there was nothing except blackness… You tried to remember that it was just a dream. That you were safe. You were in your house, in your room, in your own bed and nothing bad could ever reach you here. Those words were engraved in you from a young age. Your mother always whispered them to you, when you woke up screaming. She would always pull you close to her chest, let you listen to the sound of her heartbeat and tell you a story, her voice soothing and low. She would stay with you until the morning and smile, brushing away hair from your face. “You see, Y/N, here you will always be safe.” Your parents said that a lot. They were protective of you, perhaps more than a parent should. Others, less sheltered than you, were better equipped to face life and its hardships and as you grew older you tried to explain it to them, tried to tell them that you needed to experience freedom at least once in your life. The same kind you only knew in your dreams. “You’re simply too precious to us, sweetheart.” Your mother would say. “The world is a dangerous place.” Your father would warn. That’s why you were never allowed outside the city walls, never allowed to play in the woods with the other kids, never left unsupervised to roam the streets. There was always someone there to watch over you. And, though you hated to admit it, sometimes you could understand the reasoning behind it. Sometimes you would just… Forget yourself. Your parents would find you in strange places, would chase you down alleys you never remembered entering, they would call out your name and see you walk right past them as if you didn’t see them at all.

When asked where you were going, you could never tell. You weren’t going anywhere. You hadn’t heard them speak at all. But that wasn’t quite true. You had a longing for the forest. You always felt this pull towards it and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it always gnawed at you. Sometimes, you allowed this pull to guide you, but you never got far. Once, when you were 15, they had caught you just at the edge of the woods. Your mother had turned her back on you to speak to one of the merchants that sold his goods in the town square, and when she turned you were gone. And no matter how much she called out to you, no reply came. She never told you how she found you on the small winding path that led into the forest, or how she had thought to look for you there. She just told you to be careful. To never enter the woods. There were creatures that hid among the shadows, that creeped silently under the brush and waited, until they could get a stranger to stray from their path. There were demons too. Evil things made of shadow. They swallowed you into the darkness and made sure you never made you way back home. But worst of all were the witches that roamed. Your mother liked to say witches, yet she always spoke of one. The Scarlet witch. In the tales, she wore a crown made of bones and her eyes shown red in the darkness. Her fingers were dipped in black, for once, she had reached into hell itself, to pull back the soul of a man who had wronged her. She had kept his soul caged into the ruby at her neck, tormenting him with her powers, for she had deemed that hell was too good a place for someone like him. The endeavour had forever stained her, marked her for the world to see. Your mother had been telling stories of the Scarlet Witch since you were little. Always cautioning you to stay away from the woods, lest you fall victim to her too. And you had. You’d always heeded your mother’s advice, always strode to be a good daughter, to show your parents the respect they deserved. But you were no longer a little girl. You were 21 now, a woman, and though you cherished the safety of your home, you felt like you needed more. You yearned for adventures, for something more than the monotony of your sheltered life. You wanted to see the world. Yet, you knew, that your parents could never afford to send you off, letting you travel and explore. Now, when your breathing had calmed and your mind had cleared, you looked around your childhood home, listened to the quiet that surrounded you, looked at the familiar furniture, the cozy fireplace, the warm blankets that covered you and all you could think about was that longing. You wanted, no you needed more. You craved that freedom you felt in the forest.

You got up from your bed in a rush, taking your heavy coat and pulling it around your shoulders. In the excitement you forgot to change out of your night gown and into more comfortable clothes, but as you stood at the door, you didn’t want to risk going back, afraid the sounds may wake your parents, who slept peacefully in the next room. You put on comfortable shoes and had enough sense to grab a bottle of water, before you turned and left your childhood home behind. The small footpath that lead into the woods looked far less inviting in the dark. The blood moon had risen tonight, shining red and somehow eery in its beauty, but even under its light, you could hardly see. Your eyes couldn’t pierce the shadows, but you could hear the sounds of night animals all around you. You heard a branch snapping somewhere in the distance, the shuffling of small feet in the grass, you could hear the rapid beating of wings somewhere above you and the tiny screeches of bats. The night was alive and a part of you regretted that you couldn’t see all of its beauty. When you reached the edge of the forest you hesitated. It was even darker under the branches, you realized and the air seemed cooler too, making you shiver even in your warm coat. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to come all alone. You could ask your parents tomorrow, come by the light of day. But they would never allow it. You knew well. You’ve asked many times. And they would never let you out of their sight either. Especially if they learned that you had managed to slip away in the night. This was your only chance for an adventure. You knew that. And besides… Nothing had ever actually happened to anyone in the woods. It was all tales, told by your mother to scare you. With renewed determination, you walked forward, keeping to the path you could still make out. It twisted and turned between the trees, a small line that seemed to keep the forest from crowding around you. Branches hung above you like bony hands, their fingers outstretched towards you and the leaves seemed to rustle, even though there was no wind. You’d walked there, heart hammering in your chest for what felt like hours, though you knew it couldn’t have been that long, when, as you tried to keep your steps steady and your breaths even, somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard a voice. A woman’s voice. A beautiful voice that wrapped around you in a calming blanket. “Let me in.” It whispered softly. Gently. Like a lullaby that only you could hear. Some part of you knew to be afraid of this voice. That you should take caution, for you have never heard it before.

“Hello?” You called out, turning this way and that. But there was no one to be seen. “Come to me.” Answered the voice, still gentle, still soft, yet something about it demanded to be answered, to be acknowledged, to be headed. “Come to me.” You knew now, as you stood in the darkness, that only you could hear this voice. That the words the woman had spoken were in your mind and nowhere else. But how could that be? Such a thing was not possible… Not human. The thought scared you more than you cared to admit and you felt cold sweat bead on your forehead. Your hands shook terribly all of a sudden and you started to turn, looking around you frantically. “Calm yourself little bird.” The voice spoke again, that same low whisper and it felt like the words alone slowed down the frantic beating of your heart. “Stay calm. No harm will come to you.” It said assertively. “Just let me in. I’ll keep you safe.” It said, and it felt like fog was wrapping around your thoughts, pushing them back, so the voice can take over. It was almost like you were being hypnotized and you tried to keep your nerves from getting the best of you. God, you tried. But you were scared and alone and you didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t know where this voice was coming from or what was lurking in the shadows of the woods. You just knew it didn’t feel like an adventure anymore, it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a snare, slowly closing around you. With a scream, you turned the way you came from and ran. You ran as fast as your legs could muster, your eyes fixed on the path in front of you. You didn’t dare look around you anymore, too scared of what you’ll see. You were terrified. Your mother was right! There were monsters in the woods and you had come alone! Such a stupid thing to do! “It will be all right, my sweet girl.” That same voice rang in your head. Sweet. Lovely. Full of affection even. “Come to me.” It beckoned, that fog starting to cloud your thoughts again. “Help!” You screamed as your mind worked itself into a frenzy. “Someone, please!” You shouted, the force of the scream almost bruising. Your throat felt raw. Your legs felt like putty, the fear coursing through your veins the only thing that kept you upright, kept you moving. Suddenly, the sound of a branch snapping somewhere behind you sent another spike of fear within you, and your head turned, following the sound. In your frenzy you could hardly see anything, only trees and the deep shadows that occupied the space between them. You didn’t bother to stop, too afraid that whatever lurked in the darkness would catch up to you. Your feet carried you forward, even as your head was turned, stumbling over the forest path.

That’s when you felt yourself collide with something, the mass in front of you solid and unmoving. You had only a moment to process that you had struck something, before you were falling, your body rushing towards the ground. You knew that the fall was inevitable and you outstretched your hands on instinct, trying to break it, but in the last possible second, you were stopped. You hung, suspended in the air, your eyes closed, your hair falling around you like a curtain as a pair of strong arms held you up. Whatever you struck had caught you. The person, if it was even a person, you thought in horror, straightened you, depositing you on your feet. “Are you all right?” A woman asked, brushing strands of hair from your face. “You almost fell.” She explained, lifting your chin to get a better look at you, her green eyes scanning for any injury. That’s when you truly saw her. Truly focused on her face and her features. It was her! It was the woman from your dreams. She had the same fiery hair, the same piercing green eyes, the high cheekbones, the same soft lips. “It’s you!” You exclaimed without thinking. “I know you.” The woman looked back at you with the same bewilderment in her eyes. Her brows shot up at the sight of you and her lips parted in surprise, her breath held for a long moment. But she seemed to recover much faster than you and her lips stretched into a smile. “I think I know you too.” She said. “From my dreams.” That smile almost had your knees buckle all over again, but the moment was short-lived as you remembered just where you were and that there was a monster after you.

“We have to leave!” You told the woman suddenly. “There is a monster.” You said, your voice shaking. “It spoke to me. It was after me!” You exclaimed in rush, grasping her by the shoulders. “What monster?” The woman asked, her eyes widening in shock. “I don’t know! I heard it! It was calling me! We have to leave!” You tried to tell her, turning to leave and taking her hand in yours. It was cold. You tried to lead her down the path you were running, back towards the town, but she didn’t move, pulling you backwards towards her, making you almost fall back in her arms. “Not that way.” She said quietly. “Come with me. I know a place where we can hide.” She whispered, as if sharing a secret only known to her. “But the town…” You tried to protest. “It’s too far away.” She said in a rush, already pulling you into the shadows of the trees and deeper into the forest. You ran side by side and you were grateful that you were no longer alone. Your mind raced the whole time, replaying what had happened. You kept coming back to that moment, to that voice that spoke. It had felt like a second consciousness, scratching at the back of your mind, clawing its way in. No, it wanted to be let in. “Let me in.” You heard it again, hissing, as if the thought of it had been a call it followed through the dark and all the way back to you. You screamed, your steps faltering, slowing to a halt as you cried out. “What’s wrong?” The woman beside you doubled back, grasping you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at her. “What happened?” She asked, concerned, her eyes darting left and right. “I heard it again. It’s close. It’s going to get us!” You whaled in panic, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “No, it won’t. Just breathe.” She guided you, pulling on your arm and forcing your body to start walking even when all you wanted to do was collapse on the ground and cry. “We’re almost there.” She promised, urging you forward. Without protest you obeyed, trying your hardest to stop thinking of the monster that followed you through the dark. At least you would not die alone, you mused, the thought surprisingly calming to your frayed nerves. And you had met the woman from your dreams. She was guiding you through the woods, just as you always dreamt, but this time you could hear her, feel her. This time you knew she was real. She continued to hold your hand, helping you climb over fallen trees and under low branches. She walked confidently, as if she’d walked this unmarked path before and didn’t look as scared as you were. She didn’t look scared at all. Did she not believe you? And where was she taking you? Surely, you would have been back in town by now. But you were so breathless from running and climbing, that you couldn’t spare the energy to ask all the questions that swirled in your head. “Almost there.” She assured you, her cold hands helping you up.

The climb up was steep here and your breaths came in rapid succession. You could feel a sheen of sweat underneath your nightgown and you felt so over-heated that you wanted to shrug off your coat. How were her hands so cold still? And why was she not afraid? What was she even doing in the woods in the middle of the night? Before you could ask, she pulled you up, over a large rock, and she helped you to your feet with surprising strength. How was she so strong, you wondered, that she could catch you when you fell, that she could drag you through the woods, when you had no more strength to run. But your question died down, when you looked up. You were faced with the same building from your dream. That large temple, carved into the cliff, with its stone giants standing guard around the entrance and you had to hold back a gasp. It looked out of place here, in the middle of the woods and you wondered how no one had ever seen it or spoken of it before. How was it possible that no one had found it? How come this woman knew exactly where to find it, and why was she leading you here? “What is this place?” You asked her, reluctant to make another step towards it. “Just a ruin.” She said simply, shrugging at the words, trying to seem disinterested. But you could tell there was more to it than that. She was hiding something. Perhaps you suspicion showed, because the woman forced herself to continue. “An alter, built for the old gods.” She said when she saw you weren’t moving. “For tonight, it’s our sanctuary from the monsters.” She said encouragingly, once again offering her outstretched hand. “How did you know it’s here? I’ve never heard of it.” You probed further. You reached to take the hand she was offering, only hesitating slightly when you remembered all those dreams, when she disappeared when your hands tried to touch. She seemed to notice your hesitation and she smiled, closing the distance and taking your hand firmly in hers. “This time I’m not going to fade away.” She said softly. “I’ll never disappear again.” The words sounded like a strange promise and they startled you, and you noticed with suspicion that she didn’t answer your question, but whatever reservations you had, quickly gave way to fear, as you heard the distant sound of footsteps somewhere in behind you. The woman heard them too, it seemed, because she held your hand more firmly and started to run towards the temple, the faint light of a torch already visible somewhere inside. “How do we know it won’t follow us inside?” You asked, your voice raising as you ran faster. “There is no door!” You noted in panic, neck craning back, so you could look in the darkness behind you, trying to pinpoint the source of the noises. “You’ll be safe with me.” The woman said. And it wasn’t just the familiarity of the words, but the tone of her voice that reminded you of the eery voice you had heard in your head. “Don’t worry. Just follow me.” She assured, half-pulling you behind her.

You had almost reached the entrance to the temple, the stone giants looming over you threateningly. Your feet were moving on muscle-memory alone at this stage, as you were being dragged by the stranger. She didn’t seem bothered by that, she kept pulling you forward with palpable urgency. You kept turning back, trying to see who or what was following behind you in the darkness, but you could see no one. Only shadows.   You were right at the entrance, when your feet gave up and you stopped, your chest heaving and your mind reeling. You weren’t sure what to trust anymore. She looked innocent enough, had done nothing but help you in your fear and panic, yet there was something wrong you couldn’t quite put your finger to. Who was she? What was she doing in the woods in the middle of the night? How come you stumbled upon her? Was the timing really fortuitus, or was there more to it than that? How did she know of this place? Where did it come from? Why had you seen her in your dreams, but never in town, or at the market? How come her face hadn’t changed in all the years you’d dreamt of her? Why did she drag you up here, instead of taking you back to the safety of the town? There were too many questions. You felt overwhelmed. “We have to hurry!” She said, as she saw the hesitancy in your eyes. “Just come with me inside.” She commanded, more than asked, grabbing your hand by the wrist. “We don’t have much time.” She insisted, when you once again didn’t move, her grip hardening, and almost painful. “What’s after us?” You asked, your head turning once more to the darkness behind you. It was even harder to see now that you were closer to the light inside the temple. “Who else is inside?” “There’s no one inside. It’s been abandoned for centuries.” She insisted. “There’s a lit torch inside!” You stood your ground. “Someone must have brought it.” “The torch is mine. Only I come here. Only I know of this place. And I cannot keep you safe, unless you step inside.” The woman said, irritation clear in her voice. “Keep me safe from what?” You asked, matching her exasperation. But your resolve faltered when you heard the approaching steps, someone panting, getting closer… The woman heard them too, her eyes darting to the darkness behind you, widening in genuine fear. You had to choose. Trust the stranger, or take your chances with the monster.  “Let me in!” You heard that voice again, gravely and insisting, scratching at your consciousness. Whatever it was, you knew you would not be able to face it. You’d rather take your chances with the stranger. You nodded at her, your foot lifting from the ground to make that final step inside, when you heard a scream behind you. Desperate. Piercing. And full of anguish. “Y/N!” It shouted through the dark and you instantly recognized your mother’s voice. But it was too late. The woman beside you used your momentum and pulled you through the threshold of the temple, her hands encasing you greedily once you were already inside. “There we go. Now you’ll always be safe with me.” The woman whispered next to your ear, holding you to her chest like a prized doll, while your mother’s frame came into the light. “Y/N!” Your mother shouted, running, trying to pass through the threshold of the temple. “Mother!” You screamed, trying to shrug away the stranger, but her grip was iron-clad.

Before your mother could pass, heavy axes crossed in front of the entrance with a deep, bone-rattling rumble, as if the cliff itself was going to collapse on top of you. “Let me in!” Your mother screamed, desperate. She’d been the one running after you all this time. She was looking for you! She was here to help you. To save you! So where had the voice come from? Your eyes turned on the strange woman and when you saw the expression on her face, you knew instantly that this was all her doing. She had lured you here. She’d used her knowledge of you to gain your trust, she’d used your fear to make you go with her, when you should have ran home. And when you had started to question what was going on, she had used your fear of a monster, to drag you further. There was no monster at all. There was only her. “You! It was you all along, wasn’t it!” You screamed, your fists beating against her chest with ferocity. “Y/N, honey, just come outside.” Your mother spoke behind you, her voice a mixture of fear and worry. “Just come out.” She coaxed. And you tried, turning your back on the woman, you ran towards the entrance, but as soon as you reached the threshold, it suddenly glowed deep red, the markings of ancient runes appearing under the dust and your body collided with an invisible barrier. Just like in your dreams, something held you back, but this time, instead of keeping you away from the woman, it separated you from your mother, who tried to bang her fists against the stone axes of the giants. “You won’t be going anywhere. Not when I finally have you.” The woman said with a note of finality. She raised her hands, red mist swirling around her fingers and curling around her like vines. Her clothes suddenly changed. Her simple wool dress and cloak quickly replaced by tight leather pants and a corset of deep red, hugging all her curves perfectly. A cloak of the same deep red hugged her shoulders and flew behind her and her simple walking shoes turned to black leather boots. “Have me? Why do you even want me?” You asked, trying to shake away the shock, the confusion, the utter impossibility of what you were seeing. You were tired and your legs hurt from the climb and all you wanted was to go home. “Who are you?!” You asked in exasperation. “She is the Scarlet witch.” Your mother answered behind you, her face sullen. The woman, no, the witch smiled, a grin so wide and sinister, it was the only confirmation you needed. Your mother was right. “Yes.” The woman confirmed, her shoulders straightening, her chin lifted high. “But you may call me Wanda.” She added, her eyes fixed on you. “I won’t be calling you anything.” You said in a moment of bravery. “I’m leaving!” You insisted. “Walk away from me if you can.” The witch said, her hand briefly gesturing towards the entrance. Her confidence sent a chill down your spine. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” Your mother pleaded. “You can have me.” She offered. “I’ll come with you willingly, just let my daughter go. Please!” “You know I won’t.” The witch addressed your mother, a gentle smile gracing her features. “Why not?” Your mother insisted. “We are of the same blood. Whatever you need from her, I have as well! Just take me. I will come to you willingly, I will do as you bid, I will remain for as long as you want. I will serve you. Just let my daughter go. Please. Have my life if you want it, but spare my daughter.”

The pleading look in your mother’s eyes almost broke your heart and the witch’s features seemed to mirror yours. It seemed she understood your mother’s anguish and you felt hope fill your heart that whatever was going on, whatever unspoken truths your mother and this woman shared, may be the key to your freedom. “It’s not blood I seek.” The witch said solemnly. “Y/N was made for me. My soulmate. My love. My one. No one can take her place.” Wanda explained, longing filling every word. “And nothing and no one will take from me again.” She added, grim determination settling across her features. “Leave us be.” She hissed in your mother’s direction. “You know I won’t.” Your mother responded, mirroring the witch’s response from earlier, steel laced in every word. You thought your mother would charge at the woman, with the way her eyes blazed, but she started to say something instead. A low muttering you couldn’t understand. Strange words filled the air in a language you didn’t understand and suddenly the world seemed to stand still. As if the world itself stopped to witness your mother’s strange words. She spoke them louder and louder, chanting them into the air, her voice rising until it was all you could hear, gathering momentum. For a moment it felt like the temple itself shook with her words, groaning, as if awakening from a deep sleep and your mother chanted louder, but you could tell that whatever she did cost her. She fought to keep her strange words from losing their rhythm, but you could tell she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. As if awakened from a trance, you stepped forward, joining your mother’s chant, giving it strength, feeding whatever spell she was casting. You didn’t know what she was doing, if her strange chant would even work, you just knew it was your only chance of leaving this temple. Your voices grew stronger together and you felt that hope inside you expand, you took a tentative step towards the entrance, then another, chanting the strange words over and over again, the temple shaking all around you, as if in protest. In a moment of bravery, you made the final step. You closed your eyes and believed that it will work, that you will open your eyes and you will find yourself outside and in your mother’s embrace. Instead your body struck that invisible wall again, the barrier pushing you back and making you stumble as you tried not to fall.

Your voice faltered, frustration and fear replacing the hope you had felt. Your mother looked defeated too, her words dying down and turning into sobs. She looked so defeated. The witch did nothing. Just watched it all unfold. Her head was still held high, her expression impassive even after her victory. She looked thoughtful. Almost like she wasn’t fully present, her thoughts straying to something distant. “It’s been so long since I heard those words.” The Scarlet witch said, as if to ground herself. “But you have only a fraction of the spell.” She added cockily. “And even if it was whole, It took 3 covens, 36 witches to imprison me here. You think the two of you have the power for it?” She asked, anger rising within her. “They don’t make witches like they used to.” She growled, bitter. “Their power burned like the sun! And it took every last bit of it, for them to seal the temple.” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re walking on their bones.” She spat at your mother. “You don’t have what it takes. Just a spark of that magic. Pathetic.” As if disgusted with your mother’s weakness, the witch waved her hand and the entrance to the temple disappeared, leaving your mother on the other end. “No!” You screamed, running towards the doorway again and banging your fists against the stone, which didn’t seem to push you back any longer. It was cold and unmoving and solid enough for you to know that there was no way through. “Let me out of here!” You screamed at the witch, your cold eyes turning on her. “Never.” She responded simply. Surprisingly, there was no malice behind those words, no cruelty… Just longing and determination and something about it startled you. “Why? Why do you even want me? I’m no one. I’m not special! I don’t have magic…” You asked, trying to reason with the woman, trying to make sense of what you were seeing, of the strange new things you had learned. “Oh, but you are. You’re very special to me.” The Scarlet witch said with a sad smile. “You were everything to me once.” She continued, stepping closer, her eyes betraying the hurt she felt, when you instinctively stepped away. “But you were taken from me.” She sighed, stopping in her tracks, as if remembering that she was a stranger to you. “What do you mean? I don’t even know you!” You screamed at her.

You felt helpless and confused, you were tired and scared… You just wanted to go home. But what waited for you there? Your mother was a witch. She’d always spoke with such contempt about witches, yet she was one herself. And she had known this woman was after you, she had known she was here all this time, scheming and plotting to find a way to bring you here. She’d told you the Scarlet witch was evil. But she didn’t have glowing red eyes, or black fingers and she had no crown made of bone. She was just a woman… God, you didn’t know what to think! “Walk with me.” The witch spoke after a few long moments. She kept her tone even, her voice low, as if she was worried she might scare you away if she spoke too loudly. She turned her back on you then, walking away without turning back to see if you followed. Her steps echoed on the stone floor as she walked through passages and hallways lit by torches. The air smelled of candlewax and sweet-scented oils. She led you past doors and passages, further and farther into the temple, making you scale winding staircases, until you reached a huge, circular chamber. You could see candles scattered all around and torches mapped the edges of the room. The alter at its center was huge and covered in markings, ancient runes and symbols you couldn’t recognize. At first you thought that the domed roof had collapsed, but as you looked closer, you realised it was designed to be open, the circular opening smooth. The blood moon shone brightly through it, making you almost gasp at the beauty of it. The far wall on the right also seemed collapsed at first, as it was almost completely gone. It took you a moment to realize that it was not this way due to time or disrepair, but by design. The space where a wall was meant to be faced a vast structure below, a stone circle that looked exactly as the alter, only bigger. But the most impressive thing by far, was the giant stone statue of a woman that towered as tall as the temple walls. The sight of it left you breathless and you couldn’t help but speak, despite yourself. “What is this place?” You asked under your breath. The woman turned to you then, her eyes taking in your expression.

“I didn’t lie to you when you asked me the first time around. It’s an old ruin, where centuries ago, people built a temple to an old god. Or, should I say a goddess.” She said, gesturing to the stone statue. “The goddess of chaos.” She explained with a glint in her eyes. “They worshipped her, crated this temple for her and waited for her arrival. Her coming was foretold. She is not born, but forged. The laws of magic would bend to her will. To her there would be no laws at all. She would break them all.” She explained, her voice raw and full of barely contained emotions. “Every coven hoped that one of their own would be the goddess of chaos. Every powerful girl was raised on that hope.” She said thoughtfully. “And witches were powerful back then. Their magic was strong, passed down by the generations, practiced and honed. It was an age of miracles. Those women could do extraordinary things.” She said with admiration. “What they didn’t expect was that a simple girl, with no family or coven, no training and no tutors would be the one.” The woman smiled sadly. “My mother and father died before my eyes.” She continued with a slight tremble in her voice. “I was a child. My brother and I hid under the bad and watched as they were murdered. We watched their blood seep into the floorboards, the pool growing so big, we had to crawl through it to get out. It was cold by then, thick and slippery. We were covered in it.” She spoke, her eyes filling with tears. She looked so broken-hearted, so sad, and so alone and something about that made your heart ache for her. “We were taken as servants by a lord, to show his kindness to the people. But he was a cruel man. He would beat us for every small mistake, would leave us hungry… Sometimes for days. He was especially cruel to Pietro. He would lash him until he passed out from the pain. He’d make me watch as he beat him and told me that if I looked away, he’d hurt him worse.” The memory seemed to take hold of the woman in front of you and a single tear slipped free from her eye.

“One day, after he’d returned from the capitol, he was seething. We tried to hide from him, we’d learned to avoid him in his foul moods, but he sought us out. Made sure we were brought to him. He already had his whip in his hands. He whipped Pietro again and again, telling him to endure it all, or he would turn his whip on me. When even the lasing didn’t make him happy, he threw it on the floor, grabbed Pietro by the neck and started squeezing. I tried to pry him away and Pietro fought with all his might, but he wouldn’t let go. He squeezed and squeezed, until I could see my brother’s face turn red, then purple. No matter how much a screamed for help, or how I tried to fight him off, he wouldn’t let go. I watched as the light from my brother’s eyes started to fade and something inside me broke. I screamed and I let loose whatever I was holding back inside me. I let it flood out of me and tear through our tormentor, his castle, his guards, his family and servants… When I could finally stop, only I and Pietro’s unconscious body remained.” She said, wiping away her teras. “We were lucky that a woman, Evanora Harkness was staying in town. When she saw what I did, she took us away. Brought us to this place. My brother had no gift for magic, so he lived in the nearby town, came to see me often… Eventually found a girl to settle down with, had children of his own. I remained at the temple. They helped me develop my power, helped me learn to control it. But they were fearful of me too. They couldn’t explain how I’d done what I did. And I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t know. Their magic had rules and constraints, it was complicated in all its power. My magic was different. Needed no incantation, no runes, no herbs or special objects. It simply was.” She shrugged. “It was Agatha Harkness, Evanora’s daughter, that first realized who I was. Who I was meant to be.” She continued her story. “I could tell she was jealous, she was powerful and ambitious and she wanted to make the prophecy come true. She wanted that power all to herself. But she also admired that power, craved it. Her mother and the rest of the coven feared it. They were raised on the prophecy of the Scarlet witch, but when they saw what I could do, they grew fearful.” She said, shaking her head. “I should have realized it sooner. I should have seen the way they looked at me, when I kept breaking their precious rules of magic and grew more powerful… But I was in love.” She said with a bitter smile. “You have her name.” The woman said, turning to you for the first time. Her small, tentative smile was so beautiful, even in its sadness and you couldn’t help but feel for her.

“She was sweet, and beautiful and so kind. She was the only one willing to be my friend. The only one who didn’t resent me for my power, or judge me for coming from a family without magic. The only one who didn’t try to study me, or control me… I couldn’t help but fall in love. Then I couldn’t even begin to tell her of that love.” She spoke, looking in your eyes, but you could see she was picturing someone else in your place. Her tail was heartbreaking and it made your chest ache for her. You didn’t know why it hurt so badly to listen to her story, or why it affected you, but you couldn’t help but feel for her, grieve with her. “The discovery that I could wield chaos magic, that I was meant to take the mantle of the Scarlet witch was not accepted easily. Especially by the older generations. They clung to their rules, blanketed their prejudice in them. They feared me. I would not choose a coven, I could not be controlled, and I would not do as I was bid. That was a dangerous thing. But the younger generations longed for the promise of the prophecy. Agatha advocated for my ascendency more than anyone else. She gathered loyal followers to her side. The covens were divided. But I was also more powerful than any of them. Chaos magic had no match, it could not be stopped… This alter was my rightful throne. It was made for me and they had no choice but to give it to me.” She said, lifting her chin. “When I took my place, things seemed to settle. People were uneasy, the covens still clustered in groups and whispered, but they could not challenge me. Not without cause. For a while I ruled over the covens. It was a golden age for magic. And the prophecy promised more. I was meant to rule the world. Witches would no longer be hunted, would no longer fear for their lives and their families… I was meant to bring about a new age. But I didn’t care for such things. I didn’t want to rule the world. I only wanted you. You were the light of my day, the reason I smiled. You were my whole heart.” She said, her hand reaching out to touch your face, but the panic in your eyes at the gesture stopped her in her tracks and her eyes hardened once more, her hand dropping to her sides.

“You gave me my first kiss under the light of the full moon.” She continued her story. “You nestled at my side, as we watched the stars together. You smiled, as I made the flames in the torches dance for us and you held my hand when the world was too much to bear.” She said gently. “We made love right here, on my throne.” She said seductively, gesturing to the stone alter. “You tasted so sweet, my love. Made the most delectable sounds when I stretched you on my fingers.” She added, watching the way you blushed at her words. A reaction she seemed to enjoy greatly. “You were mine and I was yours. And your love elevated me higher. You calmed the storms inside me, tempered me… You were the reason for every mercy. You were the reason for my happiness.” “We were truly happy for a while. I made you my bride under the light of a blood moon, just like this one. I made you my queen.” She said with pride. “But I wanted more. I wanted us to have a family. Children of our own. And in my happiness, I made it true. You became pregnant. We were going to have twins. But the elders in the covens could not accept it. Making life out of nothing was simply not possible. An abomination in their eyes. And their fear of what else I might create drove them to plot my undoing.” She said bitterly. “They knew they could not kill me, that they would be opposed, so they crated a spell to entomb me here, in this temple. They drugged us, on the celebration of the winter solstice of all times. You, Agatha and all those loyal to us were taken away from me. They dragged the unconscious bodies from the great hall and into the cold air outside. Your belly was so swollen by then. You were almost due to give birth… I watched them slit your throat like a sacrifice and then used it to seal the temple, push it between worlds, so no one would ever be able to find it, or enter it.” She said as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. ”It took everything they had. I watched as the magic drained from them, leaving them nothing but empty shells… But they were willing to sacrifice it all just to keep me in here.” She snarled. “The entire time they thought I was fighting them. I was only fighting to keep you and the twins alive.” She said in a sob. “I watched the light drain from your eyes! I felt our boys struggle within you, their little souls crying. I could hear them calling out to me, begging me to save them. I felt your life essence fade and your soul slip from this world too and in desperation I did the only thing I could. I kept it from passing through. I made sure you would be born again. That you will come back to me.” She said as her eyes examined your face, trying to decern your thoughts. “And you did. I waited centuries in here. I was alone and grieving and quite mad I’m afraid. I roamed the halls, read every book, studied every theory, trying to break free from this prison. That’s how I discovered that on the nights, when the vail between worlds is thinner, I can push past their spell and into the world. The temple would once again appear, just where it was.” She said, like she was sharing a secret. “Agatha found out too. She kept coming to see me. She tried to free me from this place. When the covens found out, they punished her for it. Tried to burn her. Turns out she had a stronger will to live. She took their magic. But even with the combined power of her coven, she could not break the spell, only weaken it. But it’s been enough. I found my way out tonight and into your world. I found my way back to you, my love.” She said finally, stepping so close to you, you were almost touching.

It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts after her story. It was all too much. Too impossible. As much as you tried, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “How…” You finally spoke, voice hoarse. “How do you know it’s me?” You asked. “I recognize your soul, my love. We are bound. You have a piece of my life essence within you. There could be no mistake.” “Is that why I’ve been seeing you in my dreams?” You asked tentatively. “Yes. I found you in the world of dreams. I’ve been trying to lead you to me all this time. But there was something standing in the way. There was always a barrier between us. I’m guessing your clever mother put a spell on you.” She said, tilting her head slightly. “But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. And we are finally together. Nothing will take you from me again.” The witch promised. The words were spoken without hesitation, without a shadow of a doubt and something about them sent a jolt of fear through you. Did this mean you could not leave? That you could never see your family again? Your few friends… Did she mean to keep you here forever? “Come.” The witch said, gesturing for you to follow her. “You must be tired.” “Where are we going?” You asked, as you followed behind her. “To our chambers of course.” She explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ours?” The word struck you like a slap and you paused in the middle of the hallway. “Yes, my love. Ours. I’ve already prepared a bath for you.” She said, trying to remain unbothered by your reluctance. “A bath?” You looked at her stubbornly. “I don’t want a bath. I want to know what happened to my mother. I want to go home!” You allowed your voice to rise. As much as her story had affected you, you didn’t want to stay here with her. You didn’t know her. You didn’t want to live in isolation. “You are home.” The witch said suddenly, anger flashing across her features. “And your mother is fine. She’s already safely in town. Now come. I’ll explain everything once you are settled in our chambers.”

Her words were so infuriating, you could scream. She acted as if all of this was normal, as if because she told you a story you were meant to believe her, to trust her, to do as she asked… She acted as if you were this woman she once loved, but you had no memory of it. You knew nothing of the life she told you about. You didn’t love her, you didn’t even know her! “Perhaps that’s the problem.” The woman’s eyes slitted, her head tilting dangerously once more. “Perhaps if I help you remember, you will stop fighting all this.” She suggested. That’s when you remembered the voice you had heard in the back of your mind when you were in the woods, remembered the strange words she had used… That she could hear the voices of her children as they died… Could she read minds? Is that what she was doing right now? Had she been doing it all along? “Clever girl.” The witch spoke again, her mouth forming a smile that looked far from genuine. “Stay out of my head!” You shouted at her, but she was already stepping closer to you. It made you panic. You didn’t know what she would do, if she would hurt you and in your fear you did the only thing you could. You turned back and ran. “Where will you go, my love? There is no way out!” The witch shouted after you, her slow measured steps on the stone floor sending another jolt of fear through you. You ran till you reached the large chamber she had led you to, the candles there still burning, the torches framing the walls. There was no way out of this room, there was nowhere to hide, there was only the alter and the large statue that loomed over you threateningly. The resemblance with the woman after you was eery. Her story of prophecy daunting. Was all of this fate? Was it somehow pre-ordained? A story already written and told. A story where you were just a pawn, expected to play its part…

You refused to believe that. But what could you do? Face her? Fight her? With what? You didn’t know, but you had to try. So you made your way to the far end of the left wall and pressed yourself against it, using the statue and the shadows as covers, your breath ragged, your mind racing. The witch didn’t take long to walk into the light, her face unreadable as she scanned the room for your presence. “Come out, and we will do this the easy way.” The woman said threateningly. “Play this game, and we’ll have to do it the hard way. But one way or another, my love, I always win.” You said nothing. You weren’t foolish enough to respond to her and give away your hiding spot. You quieted down your thoughts, forcing yourself to remain calm as you watched her walk further into the room. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.” She called out, her eyes lazily moving over the few places in the room you could hide. “But if you want to play hide and seek… I guess I’ll just have to come find you, huh?” She moved passed the alter, briefly glancing behind it to check her suspicion that there was nothing there but dust, before moving to the right and towards the open space in the wall. There seemed to a niche near it, that you could only spot from your angle, but she must have known it was there. She probably knew every stone that made up this temple. When she reached the niche and confirmed that you were not there, she slowly started to move around the room, her walk casual, almost careless and as she neared you, you knew you wouldn’t be hidden from view for much longer. You had to make a choice. Stay and wait to be discovered, or try to make a run for it.

With a deep breath you darted from your spot and ran for the only doorway that led in and out of the room. You didn’t dare look back, didn’t think whether she would chase you, or simply let you wander aimlessly in the temple, until you finally gave up, you just had one goal. Make it through that door. But before you could even reach it, the door slammed shut and you were suspended in the air, hanging there mid-step, unable to move. “Caught you!” You said playfully, using her magic to float your body to the alter and lay you down on it. She took her time making her way to you, until she was towering above you. Her eyes burned through you as she took you in, struggling against her magic. It was almost adorable to her, that you thought it would do you any good. Before you could say a word, you saw her eyes turn red and the red tendrils of her magic swirled and grew around her. A crown appeared on her head, just as your mother had once described her and she looked equally regal and demonic in this state. “Now, my love… Let’s begin.”

[queenofwands89]

Jake saying to the reader “You have my heart please don’t break it” but can you make it cute and fluffy 🥺

This is so cute! 💜

A Sunlit Romance

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x reader

Warning: More tooth rotting fluff.

Notes: Literally was blushing while writing this lmao. Enjoy byeeee

It’s one of those perfect summer days, the kind where the sky is an expanse of unbroken blue and the sun paints everything in lush gold. You and Jake have claimed a small clearing in the park for your picnic, spreading out a checkered blanket under the dappled shade of a giant oak tree. The sweet scent of blooming flowers mixes with the fresh aroma of the earth, making it feel like nature is celebrating alongside you.

Jake, with his confidently mischievous grin, stretches out on the blanket, resting his head on your lap. He is clad in casual jeans and a white t-shirt, his aviator sunglasses barely keeping up with the brightness of his personality. You feel a sense of serenity wash over you as you gently run your fingers through his neatly trimmed brown hair. In moments like these, his laughter is the only sound that matters to you, echoing the song of your own heart.

As you lose yourself in the moment, Jake reaches up and lightly clasps your hand. His eyes, once sheltered by his glasses, are now visible, revealing an ocean of sincere adoration.

"You have my heart," he says softly, lifting your hand to his lips to plant a tender kiss. "Please, don’t break it."

You giggle, eyes twinkling like scattered stardust. "Oh, I’m gonna break your heart so bad," you tease, dramatically clutching your free hand to your chest with playful wickedness.

Jake laughs, a sound as robust as his spirit. "I’ll probably thank you for it," he shoots back, the lopsided grin you adore spreading across his face.

The gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead, like nature’s applause at your effortless dance of love and words. You watch as Jake's eyes soften, reflecting a depth of emotion masked by his usual buoyant facade.

“You know,” you say, your voice dropping to a whisper, “I’d rather keep your heart safe than break it.”

Jake’s smile fades into something more profound. “I know, babe. But even if you did break it, I think it’d be honored just to have your acknowledgement.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward; it’s enveloping, like a warm embrace. You lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss that is as soft as it is meaningful. It’s in moments like these that Jake’s protective exterior melts away, revealing the loving man he truly is.

Nestled in your lap, Jake feels an overpowering sense of peace. His profession demands confidence, bravery, and a bit of cockiness, but here, in your presence, he feels liberated to be vulnerable. You are his sanctuary, the one who sees through the bravado to the essence of who he is.

The rest of the afternoon is filled with a delightful tapestry of idle chatter, shared stories, and comfortable silences. Laughter punctuates the air as you reminisce about the amusing moments that have colored your past.

"Remember that time you tried to cook that fancy dish to impress me?" you say, a grin spreading across your face.

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. "How could I forget? I thought I could handle it. What was it again? Shrimp scampi?"

"Yes," you reply, laughing, "Except it ended up more like shrimp smoke-alarm."

Jake's laughter joins yours. "I swear, I followed the recipe to the letter. But right when I was about to plate everything, that darn fire alarm went off. I thought I was going to set the whole apartment building on fire."

"You should have seen your face, running around with that dish towel, trying to wave the smoke away. It was priceless," you say, your eyes shimmering with tears of laughter.

Jake smiles, a bit more softly now. "You know, I was so nervous because you were way out of my league. I wanted everything to be perfect because... well, because you'd already stolen my heart."

Your eyes widen and a warmth spreads through you as he continues.

"I mean, from the very first moment we met, I felt this incredible connection. I wanted to impress you so badly, but instead, I ended up making a complete fool of myself," Jake admits, laughing at the memory.

"Hey, for a guy who burned shrimp scampi, you did impress me," you say, a genuine smile lighting up your face. "It was sweet. And nobody's ever tried so hard just to make me smile."

"Hey, I redeemed myself with that dessert, though," Jake retorts playfully. "What was it? Chocolate mousse?"

"More like melted chocolate soup," you tease, eliciting another round of laughter.

"Well, it was all worth it," Jake murmurs. "Seeing your smile always made everything worth it."

With each exchange, your bond strengthened, seamlessly merging their souls. As Jake looked at you, and a realization struck him: your love was as vast and boundless as the sky sprawling above you. It was tender, yet unbreakable. And in your presence, Jake knew he had found not just a lover, but a partner, a confidante, and a soulmate.

As the sun begins to set, casting an orange hue across the landscape, you pull Jake closer. You watch as shadows lengthen, your hearts synchronized in a beat that speaks of endless tomorrows.

"Ready to pack up?" you ask, your voice tinged with the sweet fatigue of a day well spent.

"Just a few more minutes," Jake murmurs, snuggling into your embrace. "I want to remember this — every single second."

You smile, stroking his hair one last time. "Me too, Jake. Me too."

And under the fading light, with the world hushing into evening, you hold onto each other, knowing that in your love, you have found a treasure more precious than anything the sun could ever illuminate.

[shellshocklove]

does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.  

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”  

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

next part -> here! i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[etheralisi]

I’ve been thinking about in-universe media so. Heh. Why don’t we tumblrify the ending of the rottmnt movie

Update: here’s part 2 and 3+3.5

💫silent_swirl Follow

Nice knowing you guys

🥐ittybittyypastrypuff Follow

Wtf??? Where do you live?

⏱️lordoftimeandspace Follow

You can’t just ask someone where they live

💰rhymeonthedime Follow

op must be from new york. i’ve been trying to text my sister who lives there all day and when she finally gets back to me, it’s to send me a photo of her being chased by some weird??? fleshy???? car? i think the pink stuff was growing inside of it?

🥐ittybittyypastrypuff Follow

The hell is happening in your city?

🔥guess-ill-die Follow

The end of the world

🐛lugbugg Follow

🎙️do-re-mimimi Follow

Where else would you learn that?

14,056 notes

🚀jj-sails Follow

Alien invasion???? This is not how Jupiter Jim said it would go

267 notes

🦙dramallama Follow

So who had alien invasion on the 2020 apocalypse bingo card

🤠see-you-in-space-cowboy Follow

At this point no one is surprised 

#give it two months. somehow something will find a way to top this

12,435 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I lived bitch

🌑faded-moonlight Follow

Context?

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

No ✨

43 notes

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Sorry everyone  ::> ︵ <:: No more art until my hands are healed up. Doctor’s orders

🧸bear-with-me Follow

Are you okay? 🥺🥺💞

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

♡ ♡ Achy. But I realllllly want to drawwwwwww

#I have so many ideas right now #currently trying and failing to draw with feet #but I am determined 

226 notes

👾aliens-among-us Follow

Time to storm Area 51 again

#they can’t stop all of us #look I just want to see aliens in person okay #if they can’t invade my city then what’s the point #I know they have to be keeping some of those pink blobs in there

67 notes

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Hello

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

JUNIOR! HELLO

I SEE YOU HAVE DISCOVERED THE INTERNET

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

It’s Sensei’s fault

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

#I?????? #don’t just look at me it was purple too

5 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I smell the scent of betrayal in the air.

#not science posting #blue I’m looking at you

77 notes

✍️writingprompts Follow

You are a time traveller sent back to stop the apocalypse before it ever began. Only problem is: you aren’t sent back far enough.

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Relatable 

💥zipzapzoom Follow

Umm???

4,522 notes

🕜has-lou-jitsu-been-found-yet Follow

Day 3667 of me posting: no

🪽angelofhell Follow

Wow this blog is dedicated

101 notes

🐝 dizzee-bee Follow

Why do aliens always invade NYC? What’s so special? Why don’t they ever invade Las Vegas huh? What about Boston? Where are my aliens in D.C? So many cities and you’re telling me they chose New York? If aliens really did invade I bet you they wouldn’t even come near it

🐝 dizzee-bee Follow

This post… aged

🐾 ultimate_cataclysm  Follow

Pay up op

1,356 notes

🦊redfoxtrott Follow

there’s something weird going on in this city. remember that time at the stadium? suddenly it’s a free for all on world domination i swear

🪩glitter-jam Follow

I thought the whole stadium thing was a publicity stunt

👋saysayonara Follow

I thought that was a rogue cosplayer 

#for real though. What even happened to them?

11,388 notes

🌎yes-the-earth-is-flat Follow

Wow. So tumblr thinks it can gaslight me int thinking aliens exits huh? Well think again

🌎yes-the-earth-is-flat Follow

Stop bringing up my username. You know im right

2,488 notes

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

NO, MY KEYBOARD IS NOT STUCK LIKE THIS. EVERY LETTER I TYPE IS AS IT IS MEANT TO BE SAID. WITH PURPOSE AND VOLUME.

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

IF MY USERNAME COULD BE IN CAPITALS YOU KNOW IT WOULD BE 

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I can help with this

#give me one minute and some flavourless juice

122 notes

💃disco-girl Follow

My apartment was almost flattened by a giant freakin robot a few years back. And now aliens????? I’m moving

#guys I’m just. So. Done with all of this

67 notes

🎙️do-re-mimimi Follow

So did the aliens just up and leave? What’s the story here?

🎩man-with-a-top-hat Follow

There have been various sightings of lights across the sky. I have not been able to find any reliable sources on the cause, but the general consensus is the lights pushed the aliens back where they came from. 

🦇batarang Follow

This photo of some person swinging around the city has been making rounds on twitter

🐚seashellsshesells Follow

Pretty lights and vigilantes? 

5,993 notes

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

So what are we calling these aliens? They need a cool, alien sounding name ‘cuz all I’ve been seeing around is ‘land squids’, ‘brain goop’ and shoutout to that one discord user who used the words ‘pink gelatinous parsnip’ to describe them.

👊punch-moodi Follow

Have they ever seen a parsnip before?

🤏deadly-nerve-pinch Follow

What about Utroms? They kinda look like the aliens from Jupiter Jim’s Last Trip to the Moon 9

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

Isn’t your fandom super dead?

🤏deadly-nerve-pinch Follow

Say that to our 80+ movies. Your faves could never 

🚀jj-sails Follow

Fandom still going strong 💪 

🍎almond-apple Follow

Why does everyone keep on calling them aliens? Are we sure they’re not just failed government test subjects? Haven’t there been mutant sightings in NYC before?

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

Sorry, mutants???

👾aliens-among-us Follow

Nah it’s defo aliens

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

#so far 3 votes for Utroms and 22 for parsnips #sigh

3,751 notes

🫎duck-duck-moose Follow

Children are terrifying 

💤needsomezzzzzzz Follow

Agreed. But I feel like there’s a story here

🫎duck-duck-moose Follow

Was walking back from work, and I was like nearly home right? I turn a corner and there: a sea of cheering girl scouts. Who are they cheering on you ask? Their… cult (?) leader? Tearing one of those aliens apart with her bare hands. And the kids are just laughing and some are even joining in? They must have nerves of steel

💤needsomezzzzzzz Follow

Woah

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

@  HOCKEYORDEATH Hey look at this

372 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Set a profile picture because apparently everyone’s blocking me thinking I’m a bot?

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Sorry CJ

9 notes

asprinkleofrazzmatazz said: Spread the sunshine ☀️ Post this in at least 5 ask boxes to let them know they make you happy

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Aww, hey Orange

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Hey, where’s my ask

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Orange?

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Oh 

10 notes

asprinkleofrazzmatazz said: Spread the bugs 🪳 Post this in at least 5 ask boxes to let them know they’re bugging you

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Two can play at this game

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Jk ☀️☀️☀️

29 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I remember the good old days on tumblr. Back when my brothers didn’t know the name of my account. Back when they didn’t bug me in my inbox

🍞shortbutsweetbread Follow

Then make another one?

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Gasp. And leave behind a username such as this? I’m attached.

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

What about your sister?

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

You’re fine

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Favouritism 

128 notes

🐱sophinophie Follow

Whoever you heroes are

Thank you.  

❤️🧡💜💙

#I don’t know how you did it. Or what you even look like #but one thing is for sure and that’s that you are heroes 

189 notes

[misscammiedawn]

Thinking about We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine today. A duology. WKTD the tells the story of accepting you're queer, framed as a horror story of 3 repressed teenagers at a christian summer camp fighting off their inherent queerness and HWBM tells the story of how one accepts their place in society after embracing their queerness.

WKTD uses magical girl tropes in a fairly grounded Midwestern teen experience.

Magical girl stories often involve the struggle of the forces of Good and Evil. Purity and Impurity. Corruption often being a core theme of any girl squad facing down the nightmarish forces. This can be seen from Madoka's approach to the concept which is often referred to as a deconstruction. The Pink Opaque from I Saw The TV Glow overtly uses these themes in the exact same allegory as WKTD with the evil forces attempting to suppress the queerness of the protagonists.

HWBM uses mech anime tropes in an allegorical wonderland where the setting fades away to have the audience engage with the ideas at play rather than the lore. Mech anime often uses the giant robot duels as a method of visualizing ideological struggles. Too often in these shows beam sabers will cross as the pilots yell at one another to embrace ideas of how the concepts of war and prejudice can be battled out of existence.

In HWBM the "war" in play is humans versus space... or more accurately humans versus those who are not of Earth. Versus those who are alien. Versus those who are not human.

The dominant culture versus queer culture.

WKTD frames its tropes via the dating sim mechanics popular within its visual novel medium. But rather than choosing which of the 3 girls the player wishes to romance you must choose which of the 3 you wish to exclude. The idea being to scapegoat one's struggle with queerness by attacking outward, blaming the other, by shaming others into the closet to keep yourself in there.

Lashing outward to prevent reflecting inward.

The only good ending of the game is to accept a polycule dynamic where everyone is seen, accepted and embraced for who they are unconditionally. God's love, in this world, is conditional and one must always be excluded. The devil has room for three.

There is no room in normal society for a polycule. It is inherently queer. The dominant culture is binary and there's no version of a polycule where only a 0 and a 1 are represented. The binary is incompatible.

I recently told a friend that the duology tells the journey of a thousand miles and how it begins with a single step. WKTD is the story of that first and all too important step acceptance.

HWBM is the story of what comes after acceptance. After that first step.

It tells the story of the thousand mile journey.

The ideologies at play are the concepts of assimilation, activism and separationism. In the allegory Earth/Humanity represents the dominant "straight" society and the three characters represent each of these ideologies. Assimilation is to return to Earth, to integrate into the dominant culture and lose some of the inherent joy and "otherness" that being queer brings. It's no coincidence that the character representing this path is a trans woman who is known for defecting from her faction and crossing over to every other side while repeating the mantra "I've never betrayed anyone in my life", it is a coincidence however that her faction's war efforts are lead in part by God's Strongest Chaser herself (as far as I'm aware the Halimede Twitter Account is not affiliated with the game, but I find it funny that the assimilation path is represented by someone who a character whose gimmick account argues "t4t is incest"). It is a life of peace. But it is a life of compromise. Of giving up humanity's dream of the stars. To be grounded and tethered to Earth forever.

The Activism Path represents the idea of staying in Earth's orbit but never surrendering even an ounce of the queer identity for the sake of acceptance. Forcing the dominant culture to argue with us on our terms. Accept us on our terms. It is a life of constant battle but in that battle we will save those on Earth, invite them into the stars, embrace them with acceptance and love. Let them join us or remain where they are. This is a life of constant war, knowing that until all are loved and accepted, no one is and so we continue fighting. Letting people change sides. Nothing changes but maybe it's better that way.

Separation is the idea of abandoning Earth entirely. To become so incompatible with the dominant culture that we are no longer "human" to those who remain tethered. We are unapproachable. Separate. Unique. Other. Queer above anything else and incapable of creating a rational dialogue with the dominant culture. It is picking up your toys and walking away. Going far enough away from the culture war that it will never be able to reach you.

The author of the Halimede account once wrote, while in character, that this is the saddest ending of them all because it's unsustainable and that it does not address the inherent intersectional fighting between communities, allowing wars to simply break out further away from our blue marble in the distant stars. It is a life of abandoning war without embracing peace. To live separate in bubbles apart.

The ending of the game forces you to pick. There is no existing outside of these options. Maybe one day we'll find other ways to be but within the view of this game they are all we have. Embrace Earth, declare war on Earth or abandon Earth.

Choose.

I admit. Since the pandemic and coming out as trans, I've favored Saturn's ideology more than others. Completely giving up on "humanity" and only working within circles of those whose acceptance of queer culture is baked in. I fought so hard to accept who I was and "know the devil", so to speak, that I pulled back and withdrew.

Both games have a lot of themes about the demons ones must face within queer culture and outside of it. The way we hurt ourselves, hurt our allies and how the world outside societal, structural and individual will force us to compromise, to cut away parts of ourselves.

These games are masterpieces.

I wish I found them earlier in my life. I want everyone able to read these words to find them now.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

academic rivals d.g.

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Some injuries.

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: Full discretion this idea was given to me by an anon and even though I said I wasn't taking requests I just couldn't resist.

Also @writing2sirvive I hope you find this offer acceptable after not writing for our baby for so long 😭😭

There was always a slight pinch of anxiety when your teacher went around the class, handing back your test papers after grading them and you waited with slightly bated breath, a fist clutching the fabric of your uniform.

Even though you knew you had done well on the exam, you were particularly unnerved by her declaration before distributing the stack of papers that only one person had managed to get a perfect score.

You kept your eyes trained on your desk, waiting for someone behind you to exclaim that they had gotten a 100% but it never came. Not until your teacher had placed your paper in front of you with a soft 'Good job'.

You beamed, barely able to contain your excitement as you waited for the bell to ring.

Of course, you were over the moon that you got a 100. And that you were the only person in the entire class that managed to get one.

But secretly, you were more elated by the fact that someone else didn't.

"Aw, what's wrong Grayson? Your daddy finally run out of money to bribe your teachers with?" You snarked as soon as you caught a glance of the 93 written in red at the top of his paper.

"Sub-par insult, (L/N)." He said flatly.

"I disagree, nothing about me is sub-par, as you can clearly see." A sly grin on your face as you waved your paper with '100' in his face. He rolled his eyes so far back you couldn't resist making a comment, "Roll your eyes as hard as you want, Grayson, you won't be able to find a brain back there."

His friend, Barbara, who was sitting beside him chuckled at this and he turned to her with an irritated glare, "Can I help you?"

She gave him a teasing smile, unnerved by his annoyance toward her, "Oh, nothing, I'm just eagerly waiting for the day you both stop pretending you hate each other and start dating."

It seemed like her comment had just the effect she had wanted when Dick choked on his spit in his haste to argue that even if you were the last person on Earth, he wouldn't go near you with a 10-foot-pole.

"I'm not too happy to agree with you, Grayson but I, very fortunately, have a boyfriend."

His face twisted, "Gross, who'd wanna date you?"

You gave him a fake smile, "Hopefully, not you."

***

"Recognized: Domino, B-08."

You squealed in joy the second the light faded from your eyes, gaze landing on your boyfriend who stood right outside the zeta tube with a giant smile on his face.

You threw your arms around Robin's neck with a giggle, peppering his lips with smiley kisses that he so enthusiastically returned, his arms snug around your waist.

"Do you guys have to do this every time?" Came Conner's unimpressed voice as he shuffled uncomfortably around the two of you making out, "Can you at least stop doing it in the middle of the entrance? People are trying to get places."

You pulled away with a soft blush, smiling at the sight of your sparkly lip gloss on Robin's mouth and his slightly dazed expression. There was nothing like your kisses that was able to knock the vigilante's world off its axis and it had been this way ever since you started dating 10 months ago.

The pair of you were still very much in the honeymoon phase, much to the chagrin of your teammates, who have walked in on you many times while your lips were practically glued to each other.

"How was your day?" Robin finally asked when you had each gotten your fair share of kisses, leading you to the kitchen for a snack before the mission briefing and you beamed, "Amazing! I got a perfect score on that test from last week!"

He raised a brow, "The one that you skipped a date to study for?"

Smiling, you nodded, "The very one."

He sighed, taking a box out of the fridge, "See? I told you that you'd do great! You probably didn't even need to skip our date."

You rolled your eyes, giggling at his pout that you were all too quick to kiss away, "Hey now, I made it up to you, didn't I?"

Nodding, he pushed the box further toward you with a smile, "You did. Which is why I got you this, but I guess it could be for a job well done too."

You gasped when you saw the squiggles of the familiar logo of your favourite bakery on the top of the box and eagerly opened it up, completely missing the fact that it had been sealed with tape and nearly ripping the carboard to shreds in order to get to the treats inside.

The smell of the strawberry shortcake and red velvet cupcake had you salivating, and you wasted to time before digging in.

"Ugh, I love you." You moaned, nearly dissolving into the symphony of flavours and Robin chuckled swiping some of the cream cheese frosting off your cheek before licking it off his thumb, "Are you talking to me or the cupcake?"

You paused, glancing up at him from the cupcake wrapper, "I can love more than one thing."

His affectionate gaze had you melting, forgetting the delicious treat for a second, "Thank you for the gift, I really love it."

Robin happily accepted the sugary kiss you had given him, "Well, I figured, since it had been a while since we had a date in Gotham, you'd be craving it."

You only took another bite of the cupcake to hide your guilty wince. While the list of details you didn't know about your boyfriend was limitless, starting with his name and ending with literally anything else, you felt guilty that he somehow knew even less about you.

At least you knew what city he lived in while he was under the impression that you lived in Star City with Dinah, your mentor. You really thought he wouldn't buy it, especially after he didn't believe Artemis the first time.

But nearly a year after joining the team it would seem that he was still blissfully unaware, and you were planning to reveal your identity to him soon enough. You were firm that you wouldn't be celebrating your one-year anniversary without knowing each other's names at least.

At least once he found out you were living in the same city, you'd be able to have more frequent dates.

"Team to mission room." You heard over the PA, and you grabbed the box with you to the meet Batman and Canary along with the team, unwilling to leave your precious strawberry shortcake at the hands of Wally. This way you'd be able to dislocate his shoulder the second he put his hands on your things.

When you entered the room to find a face that you recognized on the holoscreen, you paused and glanced at Artemis who shrugged in response.

"Leo 'The Lion' Stark, the leader of the cult that was kidnapping young girls was officially incarcerated this morning."

Cheers erupted around the room, and you passed the box in your hands to your boyfriend to high-five Artemis and bring her into a hug. Black Canary patted the both of you on the shoulder, "Job well done on this mission, you two."

The mission that led to his arrest had been an undercover op with both you and Artemis posing as the girls from the private school that was being targeted. Eventually, you were able to find the leader and put a stop to his entire organization.

You had never seen Robin more fearful for your life than during this mission and it was after it that you had said your first I love you's.

"Today's mission is a covert op. For stealth, I will only be sending two members of the team: Robin and Domino."

Robin sent you a smile and you squeezed your interlocked fingers underneath the table.

"If they can stop kissing long enough to actually get the mission done." Conner grumbled underneath his breath and was rewarded with a swift kick to the knee.

***

It happened too quickly.

Everything was going fine. The mission was well underway, and you had observed them long enough to know where they were keeping their illegal servers. All that was left was to input your program that would upload all their data wirelessly so it could be accessed by the league.

Then it all went wrong, all at once.

You don't even remember much of what happened. All you knew is that when you had least expected it, someone had snuck up on you and you had felt your stomach squeeze with a painful terror that you hadn't experienced in a long time upon being caught off-guard.

"The Lion sends his greetings."

What followed was a series of excruciating shocks up your body that had your heartbeat ceasing in your chest and the movement of every single muscle came to a standstill such that you couldn't even make a sound come out of your throat.

You didn't even have the time to think about anything before you lost consciousness, the last thought flashing through your head being your worry for Robin.

And then every single pulse in your head came to an abrupt end.

“Come on hero, come on!” Robin panted as he continued to pump his hands against your chest, counting down the beats in his head to the compressions, “Baby please, please wake up!”

He was in tears, even though he tried to control them, but he had been looking at your unconscious face for the last 30 minutes as he continuously tried to revive you. His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he still didn’t quit, he wouldn’t until he passed out himself.

Before he could even stop himself, he was sobbing and the wails he let out erased the count he was keeping in his head, “Someone please help! Please help.”

His communicator lay discarded only a couple of feet beside him, but he couldn’t take his hands off you for a second, he couldn’t mess up the beat, he couldn’t stop the chest compressions because you’d die; and he’d die right alongside you.

“Robin, come in. Robin, can you hear me?”

His chest collapsed in a fit of sobs as soon as he heard the sound of his mentor come through from the communicator. The device beeped with the sound that alerted him of an override indicating that his mentor could now listen in.

“Batman help! She’s not breathing! I don't think she has a pulse! I’m trying to do CPR but she’s not awaking up! Please help!”

“Hang in there, Robin. Someone will be there in five.”

***

"She's alive but her brain was deprived of oxygen for a while so we can't accurately put a time frame on when she could wake up." Batman explained, his voice as stiff as concrete like always but the hand he placed on his ward's shoulder was warm and comforting.

There were so many questions rushing through Robin's head, but he kept silent because a part of him already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, while being Robin he had seen countless families, parents, spouses, receive the same news.

The distraught questions would usually follow: would take months? years? is there a chance that she could never wake up? is there anything he could do?

He wanted to ask Batman anyway, he wanted Batman to lie and say that everything would be okay, that the girl he loved would wake up soon and he just had to wait but he knew better than anyone that was all it would be. Lies.

There were those that were fortunate enough for their loved one to eventually wake up. Others would be forced to watch life go by while their loved ones were imprisoned to a bed with the empty hope that one day they'd wake up.

So, he swallowed down all his questions, Adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat, "Can I see her?"

His father nodded, leading him to the med-bay with one hand on his back. Robin felt his stomach sink with every step he took, staring sullenly at his sock-clad feet. In his rush to change after the mission so he could get to you as soon as possible, he had thrown on anything he could find.

Which resulted in him being dressed in your sweatpants and his hoodie that you had stolen so often it smelt like you; a combination that both comforted him and broke his heart all at once.

When he saw you from the door, a rush of epiphanies struck through him like lightning to a metal rod. Although, first and foremost, he was just relieved to see you. Even though it hurt him to see you unconscious, and he knew that there was a chance he'd never get to see you awake again, a part of him forgot all about that as soon as he saw you.

He took quick steps toward you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin against his when he stopped in his tracks once again with wide eyes, realizing you were without your mask.

"Robin?"

"I-I know her. (Y/N) (L/N), s-she's in my class." He stammered, staring at your relaxed features with his mouth hanging open. As odd as it sounded, this was the first time he had ever seen you, as (Y/N), so relaxed.

Whether it was a scowl or even just a grimace, you always seemed to be frowning at him and he never bothered to pay any attention to you outside of classes, when you were talking with your friends. He was sure you'd have a mesmerizing grin, one that would reach your beautiful eyes.

Batman stayed silent behind him, and Dick wondered just how many times Bruce had heard him talking shit about the love of his life, having to keep silent to respect your privacy. His cheeks coloured, remembering the conversation from this morning, where he had claimed that he would never touch you even with a 10-foot pole.

If only he had known that he had been pressed against the same girl so many nights prior.

"Does it matter?" Batman asked, snapping him out of his mortified state where he remembered every single insult he had ever directed at you, either to your face or behind your back.

To anyone else, it would have sounded like a shallow question, but Dick knew his father was concerned about whether his feelings would have changed, whether your identity did matter to him more than your relationship or his love for you.

He swallowed, walking up to your bedside, and gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face and for the first time in his life, he took in all your features. It was startling how quickly his worst enemy became the most beautiful person in the world.

"No, it doesn't."

***

You could see the bright light even though your eyes were shut. There was nothing more you wanted than to slip back into your deep slumber but for some reason your consciousness began trickling back into your head in a gentle stream.

You squirmed, brows pinching together in a frown as you murmured something unintelligible, features twitching until finally your eyes began to flutter open.

"(Y/N)?" You heard and your hand was squeezed by someone you couldn't quite place. Your vision was still quite blurry, and you were extremely disoriented. Still, you tried to blink through the hazy shapes in your sight and you managed to recognize a familiar head of black hair.

"Baby?" You breathed out, sighing in relief when he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "Thank goodness you're okay."

Right before you had lost consciousness, a thought had flashed into your head. Robin would never abandon you there, no matter what had happened to you, if you had died or just lost consciousness.

You worried that in his effort to stick by you, he'd be hurt or worse.

"Me? (Y/N), you were unconscious for two days! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"

If you had been any more conscious, you probably would've been concerned over the way his voice broke in grief and his heartbroken words but in your exhaustion, all you could do was give him a silly smile, wishing your eyes could focus long enough for you to see his beautiful face.

"I'm okay now, I'm okay."

"I didn't think you would be." He confessed, pressing another kiss to your fingertips, holding your hand gingerly but still in a firm grip in between both of his. Like he was scared you'd evaporate and disappear before his eyes.

"I'm okay, baby. Just a little sleepy." You told him, feeling your consciousness slip further and further away as your blinks began to get longer and longer and your strength began to disappear, "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

He nodded, voice thick with unshed tears even though you couldn't see him, "Yeah. I'll be right here."

***

This time when you woke, you felt much more refreshed than you had before. Your head didn't feel like it was nailed to the pillow anymore, but it felt like you had lead in your veins which was expected considering you had been unconscious for days.

Despite his promise, Robin was nowhere to be found when you finally sat up, stretching your arms as much as you could, careful of the IV in your hand. Your eyes darted around the familiar med-bay, trying to catch a glance of the clock by craning your neck but was ultimately unsuccessful.

Was it a weekday? Was it school hours? Was that why Robin wasn't at your side like you had asked him? What about you? What excuse had Batman given the school to explain your sudden absence? Were your parents aware that you had been injured?

The endless barrage of questions was silenced to a mum when you heard the door slide open and you sighed in relief, noticing the head of black hair first, "I believe you promised to be here when I wo—!"

Dick Grayson was beaming at you and in certain angles of the light, his blue eyes almost looked glossy with tears, but you shook your head unconsciously. Why would he be crying at the sight of you?

'Because you're so ugly the sight is making my eyes water.' Would have been his classic response and you practically rolled your eyes at the thought.

"(Y/N), you're awake!" He took a step closer, and you flinched.

"Stop right there!" He quite literally froze in his steps, he might as well have been encased in ice at the receiving end of your cold glare, "What the hell are you doing here, Grayson?"

He paused and somehow you were annoyed by the dumbfounded look on his face while multiple scenarios ran through your head. A concussion, brain injury or something along that likeness. Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for recognizing faces was damaged and this wasn't actually Dick Grayson. Amnesia, possibly? Maybe you were actually good friends with him but managed to forget it all? Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream.

Your brow twitched at his lack of response, "I asked you a question."

At your terse tone, it seemed like he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor, "(Y/N), baby, it's me."

You scowled, "Don't call me that and speak clearly; the hell do you mean by 'me'?"

"Baby," He said again, so firmly that you were silenced in your effort to snap at him again, "It's me."

Dick watched as your face melted from an expression of disgruntled bewilderment to the smallest sliver of recognition. Your eyes raked over his body, only now noticing that he was in short sleeves, and you were able to see the familiar scar on his forearm that belonged to your boyfriend. The little patch of freckles near his elbow that you had traced with your finger so many times before.

Your voice was small when you called him again, "Rob?"

He nodded and your eyes went wide, not quite able to believe it. Your boyfriend stood stiffly, berating himself for not handling this better. He had very quickly gotten over the fact that his girlfriend was his greatest rival in high school while he watched your unconscious face for the past couple of days, waiting for you to wake up.

It had completely slipped his mind that you were still unaware of his identity, and he swallowed nervously. Sure, it was something he could easily put past him but were you the same?

Robin knew you inside and out, he knew how much you loved him, but he didn't know how just much you hated Dick Grayson. Was that hate enough to overpower your love for him?

You stared at him in surprise for only a minute, but it felt like hours to him before you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, "Wow."

"This-This doesn't change anything right?" He began, feeling the lump in his throat grow three sizes larger when you turned to him with an expression that was not a reassuring smile like he had wanted.

"Are you kidding? This changes everything! Barbara is never going to let us hear the end of this. And my friends? Oh, they've hated you ever since that incident during our group presentations." You exclaimed, fingers twitching, and Dick knew it was because you wanted to flail your arms around but couldn't because of the IV.

He bit his lip. You weren't outright rejecting him or anything, but he needed to hear you say it and he needed to hear it as soon as possible.

"No—(Y/N), does this change anything between us?"

You paused, stopping in the middle of your tangent to give him a confused glance, "Between us? No. Why would it?"

And just like that, the tension in his muscles evaporated away and he relaxed, approaching to your side like he wanted to and interlacing your fingers, "I love you."

You finally smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips, "I love you more, even though you said I was gross and that no one would ever want to date me."

"Well, to be fair you said you'd hope I never did, so I guess we're even."

***

"Hey, stranger." It really didn't make sense that after almost a year of dating, your boyfriend's voice still managed to send shivers down your spine. You closed your locker shut before turning to meet the beautiful blue eyes that you grew to love.

It was scary how quickly you completely rewired your brain into loving every single feature belonging to Dick Grayson.

"Hi, Grayson."

His eyes dipped to your lips for a second, mentally scolding himself for turning to putty the second you said his last name. It was weird how the last time you both were in school together, he thought that the sound of his name coming from your mouth was like nails on a chalkboard.

Now, he felt like he had been blessed just by being in your presence.

"I have all the assignments and notes that you missed the past week." You had been ordered bed rest and some physiotherapy to regain complete mobility after being unconscious for a couple of days. Under your boyfriend's watchful care, he had dutifully nursed you back to health.

You smiled when he handed you the stack of papers even though the heft of it made you want to cry. All this work from just a week? All the AP classes you had been taking in order to compete with your own boyfriend had come back to bite you in the ass.

"Thank you. Can I come over later so you can help me out with it?"

It was really a formality that you were asking because you both knew he was obviously going to say yes. But you figured you'd do the polite thing and ask the first time. After today though his room would practically be yours, just as your room would now be his personal hideout.

"Of course, baby. I've been dying to introduce you to Alfred. We can go back to mine together after school."

You nodded, starting when you heard the bell, "I have Physics." You bemoaned, it being the only class Dick didn't take with you. He had opted for a language instead, which you were beginning to think was more useful than whatever you learnt anyway.

He gave you a smile, eyes twinkling when he slanted his lips over yours in a soft kiss and you had to pull away quickly before you forgot just where you were.

His disappointed pout was all too quick to disappear when you reminded him that you'd be going home with him that day, "I'll see you later."

The two of you parted ways with delirious smiles, feeling too much like you were wafting on cloud nine, completely unbeknownst to the small crowd of people that watching your entire interaction with wide eyes.

Barbara, who was stood at the centre of the flock, smirked, and held out her hand, "Pay up bitches."

***

Bonus:

"I'm surprised you didn't figure out her identity earlier, Dick. Aren't you supposed to be a great detective?" Wally teased and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"It's not that I couldn't find out, I just didn't try."

"How come?"

He spared you a glance and shrugged, "She asked me not to."

"I don't remember you offering me the same consideration." Artemis sniped but he knew it was all in good nature.

"You aren't nearly as pretty." He replied coolly, making you blush.

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Alright I gotta ask. When it comes to Melusine Creator... how does Neuvillette fit in? He basically sees the Melusines as his daughters, so what would he do when he learns of a new Melusine and their abyssal guardian? How would FL react? Would Neuvillette Know? I need answers!!!

teehee excellent you walked right into my trap >:) sit down, sit down, make yourself some tea

Neuvillette is a little confused when Sedene cheerfully tells him about the new sibling she and the other Melusine have welcomed into Merusea- as far as he knows, "new" Melusine aren't really a thing- but simply shrugs it off at first as his children being carefree and whimsical... until he overhears Menthe tiredly mumbling about a giant creature the color of night that sparkles like stars, and the Iudex's blood runs cold. he sets out towards the village the moment his work ends for the day, diving into the water and under the earth before surfacing in familiar caverns, ones he's had memorized for hundreds of years. Cosanzeana greets him cheerfully, with the same flower garden as last time, skipping alongside her father as he ventures deeper into the village, coming across a new seashell house tucked away in the corner

Neuvillette's eyes widen when he settles his gaze on an armored monster, wings all tangled with starlight, gently cradling an oddly patterned Melusine, similar stars in their eyes. the beast growls at him, holding the Melusine closer as they begin to shiver fearfully

it's you, the Creator- he knows it is. but how? perhaps the god of everything has a similar method of rebirth as he does... whatever the reason is, Neuvillette quickly gives you a deep, firm bow, keeping both of his hands in front of him, and the Abyssal creature's hisses slowly fade into soft purrs as you raise a mittened hand and pat it on the head

with your safety intact, you tell Neuvillette everything, the Hydro Sovereign listening with mounting horror. no wonder you wanted to stay hidden in Merusea- the only ones who showed you any kindness were the Melusine and this monster, the one you called Foul Legacy. you plead for him not to tell anyone, about you or Legacy, and he gives you his word as Iudex that he would make sure no harm came to you and your friends- after all, you were beloved by all of his children. as your disciple, it was his duty to protect you whenever necessary... although, with how you won the friendship of an Abyssal creature of all things, Neuvillette is sure you'll be well defended

so the Dragon of Hydro tells no one of his brief trip to the countryside, not saying a single word of what he found, for now

[activatebutterflyshield]

Doodles of the five major component parts of Lingering, the buried god at the center of a strange story concept I’ve been working at for a good while. Clockwise from top left, there’s:

Bent Spear the Crook-Necked Dragon

Empty Quiver the Four-Winged Bird

Broken Arrow the Floating-Head Griffin

Dull Sword the Warp-Horned Unicorn

Faded Giant the Tall-Sailed Sea Monster

It’s a total coincidence that all five share names with Untied States nuclear incident terminology. Totally. For sure.

Close ups under the cut

[sirenologyyy]

LOST MY HEART!

street racer!carlos sainz x fem leclerc!reader

✴ summary: where you somehow found yourself in a skimpy maroon cocktail dress watching cars race eachother in the heart of the city and where carlos sainz found himself wondering what on earth had been keeping you from him all these years?

✴ warnings: swearing, google translated french, asshole-ish carlos kinda, mentions of murder, injuries, death, & suicide, blood, police chases.

✴ author's note: so uhh I guess this is me on my first attempt at entering the f1 side of tumblr LMAO. If you see any spelling or grammatical errors, no you didn't. Was this inspired by 2 Fast 2 Furious? Yeah.

The foul stench of decade old nail polish is like a good sock to the face. You had been sitting on the windowsill as the balmy summer air wafts in and out of your quaint little studio apartment, your tailbone nestled awkwardly against the ridges of the windowsill making you shift positions every 10 seconds instead of simply choosing to continue your business on your bed where your mattress and pillows were far more forgiving than the metal windowsill. You carefully and meticulously coat each of your bare fingernails with wine red nail polish as some 70s reality show continues to play in your TV in the background; the dialogue blurring with the faint buzzing of the electric fan rotating on its axis, the only reason why you weren't melting at this very moment.

You were on the last finger, carefully spreading the polish around so as not to get it to stick on one of your cuticles until your phone started to ring, you see your phone light up in the distance and you scramble to get to it. It had been Alexandra calling, you recognise the picture of her face before you even see the name.

You couldn't help but glance up at the upper left most corner of your phone and your eyes widen a centimeter as you slide the button to accept her call. "Where are you? Are you okay?" You demand and when she didn't answer in all but the 3 seconds you gave her you leapt off the windowsill and began scurrying around your apartment, beginning to gather your things to leave the house.

Then, you hear her tinkly laugh on the other end of the call. "Would you calm down? Everything's alright here chérie, no one has died."

You halt to a stop in the middle of your apartment. "Are you aware what time it is Alex?"

"Yes, I am." She replies, hearing the giant grin through her voice along with her velveteen monegasque accent that tickled anybody's brain.

You look at your wallclock, 2:45. "So why on Earth are you still awake?"

Before she could even respond, the obnoxious sounds of cars revving their engines answered for her. You roll your eyes as you pressed the video feature waiting for her to finally accept, and when she did you were greeted by your friend grinning cheekily at you along with throngs of people whooping and cheering behind three sports cars lined up and ready to race. "Come on," Alex says, giggling blithely at your disdainful expression. "You promised to come today!"

You visibly stiff. Oh yeah, you did. A week or so ago when you made her try Filipino street food for the first time, you hastily agreed to come to one of the street races so she would try kwek-kwek dipped in spicy vinegar, you've completely forgotten about it.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?-" Alex mused, voicing your conscience.

Your brows thread. "-Of course not!" You're quick to defend as she laughs at you once more and she gives you this sort of endearing look that made you feel bad. "Fine, what if I have?" You say, giving up. You walk back to the windowsill in hopes to finish off your nails.

"Make it up to me, come to the race today. I'll even pick you up!" Says Alex.

You guffaw as you twist the nailpolish bottle closed. "That's not likely."

"I'm serious!" Alex persists as she moves away from the boisterous crowd, hearing their voices fade away more and more by the second. She sits down somewhere and places the camera in front of her face, prompting you to do the same. "Come on, Y/N/N, come today! Support Charles! You know how much it would mean to him if you came and cheered him on! You haven't been to one of his races since Jules."

Your jaw tightens, your chest begins to feel immensely heavy, and your stomach churns. Not in that particular order. "I didn't have it in me."

Alex sighs. "I'm not forcing you to come, I'm just... heavily encouraging you."

"I know, I know" you reply somewhat distantly, though barely enough for Alexandra to notice; and as she speaks to somebody else about a lychee martini presumably ordering one from the 24 hour bar beside the track, you begin to weigh your options. It would just be one race, and anyway Suzuka was 9 years ago, it wouldn't kill you if you came today.

It wasn't like you had a sleeping schedule to maintain.

"You're thinking so hard you look like you're gunna bust a vein." Alex quipped, ultimately pulling you out of your reverie and causing you to blink repeatedly.

"I'm warming up to it." You confessed, jerking your right shoulder upwards. Suddenly, a notification pops up saying Charles was calling you and your eyes widened. "Why the fuck is he calling?"

"Who is?" Alex wonders.

"I'll be right back Alex, hold on." You replied, distracted.

"30 minutes." She says, pointing at you.

You roll your eyes as you laugh through your nose. "No promises."

She blows you a kiss, you do the same before you ended the call and accepted Charles'.

It automatically sends the both of you into video and you see Charles inside a car, your mood sours even more than it already has. "Chou, come today." You hear him say with a stern look in his eyes while the edges of his mouth curl up into a grin you recognise all too well.

You scowled at him. "Alex called me, she tried winning me over too. She's a great negotiator."

He lights up at the prospect of you finally coming to one of his street races. "So you're coming?"

"If I do will you finally propose?"

"That's not fair!" He exclaimed, laughing at you.

"You whore! The amount of testosterone I had to live with in my 23 years of existence was appalling! Enzo's settled down, Arthur is seeing that girl he met in Milos, what about you?" You demand, your older brother watches you berate him with a fond smile on his face, wondering just how fast time flies.

"I'm waiting for the right moment, you can't blame me." He replies simply making you scoff.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Language."

"Is Arthur there?"

He adjusts the grip on his phone. "No, that's why I want you to come."

"But you have Alex, isn't she enough?" You fought.

Charles sighed. "She's just my girlfriend Y/N not my sister, at the end of the day it's still drastically different."

You raise a quizzical brow. "Just your girlfriend? Wait til she hears this-"

"Come on chou, one race." Charles pressed, and you can feel yourself losing restraint as each second evades you. 9 years of hearing about Charles' accomplishments and failures instead of being able to witness them firsthand, tonight was the night where the incessant begging of Charles, Alex, and even your twin brother Arthur on the rare occasion would finally change all that. "juste une course." Just one race.

"One race." You found yourself saying, Charles smiles.

"I'll see you in an hour." You shook your head at him giving him a shrewd little smile. "You stink."

"Not as much as you, Chou." He replies swiftly. You flip him off, hearing the last remnants of his laugh reach your end before you grunt a quick 'bye' and finally end the call. By the time Alex arrives in your apartment, (also known as her breaking and entering because you forgot to tell her you've changed locks and hadn't given her a new key yet.) You've gotten yourself dolled up in a new maroon cocktail dress you found while thrifting a few weeks back, wearing it for the second time around. Alex did your makeup since she insisted she wanted to try a new eyeshadow hack she saw off of TikTok and you styled your hair.

As you two are about to leave, she stops you from putting on your black ballet flats and pulls you back to the vanity.

"One last thing." She says to you before she lines your lips with a crimson lip liner and then filling it in with a red lipstick you had lying around. She turns you around fixing your gold heart necklace so that the clasp would be hidden in the back. You turn back around to face yourself in the mirror, checking yourself out. "Now you're ready." Alex grinned. "That way you're less inclined to smoke because I spent a good 10 minutes on your lips!"

You snort as you throw on your deep brown leather jacket. "Let's see about that."

Within an hour the both of you are out the door, you had the radio on full blast with the pair of you screaming the lyrics to Love by Keyshia Cole. The roof of Alex's silver convertible had been down, allowing the crisp dusk air to billow through your tresses as you sped through the otherwise empty streets save for the few cars that hung back and watched as you two zoomed past them, eventually stopping at the closed off avenue where the race was located. It took Alexandra 20 minutes to parallel park (with you cheerfully taking a video of your best friend visibly struggling and in dire need of help to send to your brother.)

Once she has surmounted such a great feat you two were off to find your brother who, funnily enough, chanced upon you first.

Charles takes off his amber tinted sunglasses, donning his signature baggy jeans that flopped as he waltzed towards the pair of you. "do my eyes deceive me or is my baby sister finally at a race???"

You smirk as you entrap him in a fleeting hug. "No this is Papa, I've come to take you with me."

Charles harshly pokes your side making you recoil. "Agh Putain! " You hissed, clutching your left rib as you scowl at your older brother.

"I see you haven't outgrown your foul-mouthed tendencies." Charles mused, boxing his arms in front of his chest.

You raised a quizzical brow as Alexandra giggled loudly beside you. "You do know who I grew up with, right?"

"It's great to have you here, Chou." Charles beamed fondly at you, causing the ends of your lips to curl upwards into a smile, a sudden wave of melancholy overcoming you. "Can't believe it's been this long since you've watched me race."

"Me too." You replied, returning his smile. "I'm excited to see if you still like to shred the side of your car against the sides of the track like when you were 14."

The tip of Charles' ears turn crimson at the sound of Alex's tinkly giggles. "You're never letting me live that down are you?" You giggle loudly as you shook your head at him.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, look, I'm in the lineup for the next race. If they'd known I left my car minutes before I'm set to compete I'm toast."

You rolled your eyes. "Alors dépêches toi, I'll see you later." Hurry up then.

He began to retreat towards the starting line. "Watch me win that fat stack of cash, and once I do I'll take you out for ice cream." He assured you oh so confidently in the true Leclerc fashion, pointing at your face.

"You better, or I'm cracking your head open on the asphalt like an egg." You call after him, watching as he danced his way through the crowd. "We'll see about that." You caught wind of him saying causing you and Alex to burst out into a fit of giggles, which were promptly drowned out by the arrival of two cars that had presumably been racing since before you got here. The crowd's thunderous cheering and whistling made you wince as Alex started whooping along with glee.

The drivers each exit their cars slamming their doors rather harshly. You stood silently as you watch one of them shove the other one in the chest causing him to stumble backwards and collide with his car, a Honda S2000. The cheers drastically begin to fall in a decrescendo when the crowd notices they start to get into a heated argument, from your vantage point one of the men with features so sharp it could cut diamonds seemed like he was berating his opponent that looked defensive, with his eyebrows furrowed as they exchanged sides.

One of your brother's friends, Pierre, who helped organise street races like these quickly intervened and told them to walk it off, dismissing the crowd who had just began to cheer for a fight telling them that if they were here for one they should take their business elsewhere.

"Yeesh," Alex makes a face as your eyes trail after one of the men. "There he goes again, all dark and broody."

"You know him or something?" You wonder, turning to Alex.

Alex looks at you. "He and Charles are leading in wins, his name's Carlos." She tells you, you turn your head to the direction he previously was in to find that he was gone.

Your eyebrows thread. "Sounds like you can't trust him with your drink."

Alex snorts. "With your ex-girlfriends either, once he learns you and your girlfriend have broken up he swoops right in and sleeps with her."

"That sounds a little dramatic." You say, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Alex gives you a pointed look as she places her hands atop your shoulders. "Chérie, trust me. I know you, you do not wanna get mixed up with that guy."

Your eyes widen, as you look at her almost scandalised. "What are you talking about???"

"I'm just saying!" She laughed, shrugging. "Just- be careful."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at your friend and instead you give her a comforting smile. "Fine, I'll steer clear of him. I promise." You assure her.

As the minutes ticked on and your brother, who was seated in his custom Ferrari 360 modena had sped off into the distance with his opponents, you had covertly slipped away whilst Alex had began mingling with the other racers' girlfriends (she was too scared to leave you alone but you insisted you'd be fine.) to light one up.

Walking off to a secluded part of the track, you take out your cigarettes and lighter from the pocket within your jacket. After a series of attempts of igniting your lighter and to no avail, you grew irritated.

"Allez... allez allume. Come on you stupid little thing." You mutter, obstructed by the cigarette trapped in between your lips. Come on... come on light up.

"No use in forcing it if its that stubborn." Your eyes traverse from your lighter and towards the voice, a man's voice. Your heart so traitorously skipped a beat as you laid your eyes on him, approaching you as he takes his cigarette away from his plump lips. "Have mine." He tells you.

Clad in a shiny leather jacket, a white shirt, and deep blue jeans, he takes out his lighter from his front pocket and ignites it before your very eyes. The blistering amber flame danced as the wind dared to put it out which otherwise gave life to his eyes. In which you thought were dark fathomless pits of naught were apparently balmy and tantalising, doe-like and pleasant. "Do you mind if I join you?" He wonders.

"No not at all." You answered, lips still pinching that cigarette together. He laughed a little, making you grin out of awkwardness.

This was the same man you were warned to avoid and yet pleasant was the word that came to mind when you thought of his eyes that soon meet yours, and you didn't quite find it in yourself to pull away.

Only when you heard the familiar sizzle of your cigarette coming to life was when you take a hit and then promptly pulled it away from your lips.

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, a foul, gaseous barrier that stood in between the two of you. "Honestly I could've done it myself." You refuted, avoiding his eyes. You didn't want to fall victim to the ironclad grip of his warm gaze like you so foolishly allowed yourself to succumb to before.

He chuckles in a low baritone. "What can I say? My mother raised a gentleman." He replies in his sultry Spanish accent that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Oh pull yourself together, he's just a man.

You hummed at him, clearly amused. "A gentleman sure, but not a very good sportsman."

He grinned at you. "I take it you saw that little spat earlier, no?"

Your finally look at him once more. "Me? Everybody did. You looked like you were about to choke him until his eyeballs pop outta their sockets."

He chuckles at that, a sound that made your smile widen, even if it was just a tad. "He was being too aggressive during the lap, drove right into me from behind. Like uhh, the bumper cars." He recalls, snapping his fingers gleefully. "Almost had me flying."

"You still won though." You postulate, paying close attention to his reaction. Through the darkness you saw a light blush spread across his sun-kissed cheeks as he brought his cigarette towards his lips. "Why, are you glad I did?"

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head, the ends of your lips curlong upwards a tad to form some semblance of a smile before you stopped it from growing wider. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

This gets a chuckle out of him, glancing over at you. "My mistake I guess."

You rolled your eyes, before they carefully combed through the area to see if Alex had chanced upon you and caught you fraternising with your brother's competitor. Oh the absolute horror. "Oh poor you, I bet everytime you do donuts you're convinced it'd get all the girls to drop their panties for you."

Carlos blinked. "I wouldn't know myself," He juts his right shoulder upwards before taking yet another hit of his cigarette. "D'you wanna test that theory?" He asks you, smoke leaving his mouth and nostrils like a dragon.

"Oh you're a real treat aren't you?" You feigned a smile.

"Just about." He replied, cheekily grinning at you.

You furrow your brows at him. "Funny." You said. "Don't push your luck, connard." Jerk. You cussed as you shook your head. Finally, the sad baby cow eyes effect were wearing off, you thought. But then again, this was a street racer you were talking to. Even your brother had his questionable moments at times.

"Ahh, tough luck I guess. Usually the French love me." You hear him say as you checked the time on the dainty watch that once belonged to your Maman's wrapped around your wrist.

"Thank God I'm Monegasque then." You humored, causing him to raise an eyebrow and nod, almost piecing something together. You drop your cigarette to the ground, mercilessly crushing it up beneath your ballerina flats. "I guess I'll see you around?" You ask him politely, a light drawl hanging off your tone, but he offers you a polite smile in return.

"Can I expect you to come to another race soon?" He wondered as you slowly retreated back to where Alexandra had left you. It made you think all of a sudden.

"Don't hold your breath." You answered him.

He makes a face. "I don't have a lot of things to hope on."

You rolled your eyes playfully as you took a few slow steps backwards. "Dosen't sound like my problem." Carlos grinned at you as you pivot on your heel and walked off trying to suppress a grin, hands inside your jacket pockets as you quickly made it back to find Alexandra. Only for her to find you first.

"Where have you been?" She asks you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you around swiftly. "I was looking everywhere for you! Cha finished first you know, he's competing against the previous race winners right now. We were wondering where you ran off to!" Alexandra exclaimed.

"I was just walking around, doing some people watching. The usual." You lied casually, causing her to make a face at you.

"That dosen't explain why you smell like cigarettes again." She says, causing you to grimace inwardly. You forgot to shove some mints in your purse before leaving your apartment. Usually chucking a couple of them into your mouth would help cover your tracks, but your carelessness has bitten you in the ass once more.

"It's a street race Alex, it's bound to get a little dusty." You tell her laughing. "You dont get to talk either, you smell like you bathed in a vat of lychee martinis when you left."

She hummed, crossing her hands over her chest. "Touché"

You look back at her, sporting a victorious little grin one to which she rolled her eyes that faded oh so quickly when someone from behind you suddenly made you stumble forward, you were about to cuss them off when the infamous red and blue lights of police cars drew nearer and nearer alongside the blaring sirens.

"Holy shit." Alexandra gasped as she took a hold of your hand while everybody started bolting the other way like disturbed garden bugs once residing underneath an overturned rock.

"Jesus Christ-" You said before you began squeezing yourself into the distressed crowd. People were ramming into the pair of you from different directions as you tried to make your escape, you hear the police officers making arrests in the far off distance as you continued to fight your way through the throngs of people. Only when you finally ran off to where you had smoked a cigarette prior to the arrival of the police had you realized Alex hadn't followed you out like you so foolishly hoped she did.

The churning in your stomach only worsens when you hear more police cars arrive on the scene. "ALEX?! Jesus Christ- ALEX???" You yelled, trying to find her amidst the sea of people running for their lives, quite literally. "ALEX?!? ALEX WHERE ARE YOU?!?"

You unceremoniously jumped out of your skin when you hear a car pull up behind you causing you to gear up to try and run away, that was until the shotgun window rolled down and there was Carlos strapped in the driver's seat. "Get in!"

You were apalled. "I- I can't find my friend! I don't know where she is!" You shout back.

"Less likely of a chance you'll be able to find her when you're behind bars, come on!" The man insisted with a caring sense of urgency in his eyes.

Your frown deepened as you looked behind you, the sirens were starting to sound nearer. "Carlos I have to find her!" You say, turning back to look at him.

You saw a bulge form on his temple as his fingers flexed around the leather of his steering wheel. "I'll help you find her after the heat dies down, but please do yourself a favor and get in the car!" Carlos yelled before you open the door to the shot gun half-heartedly. You threw yourself inside and before you could even close the door he zoomed off. It felt like you had been suctioned onto the back of the seat as you were sure Carlos had floored it. You turn to look at him, only now you realize how dry your mouth felt, how your tongue felt foreign and rough like sand paper. "Thank you... for that."

"Don't mention it." He replied, dancing past the other cars that ran the speed limit as he drove the pair of you into the highway.

"You're right your ego'll inflate so much to the point it'll slow us down." You equipped, trying to ease the situation a little.

Even Carlos' hard exterior crumbles at that as you hear him chuckle. "Are you always this sweet to people who save your ass?"

"Usually, why?" You replied looking at him who shrugged, smiling ever so slightly. "Can't blame a guy for being curious."

That gets a little chuckle out of you which was promptly interjected by the sounds of sirens coming from behind you. You whip your head around to see at least 3- no, 4 police cars making their way through the traffic behind you. You turn to Carlos, mouth parted to warn him but it seems that he was a step ahead of you was the car went faster.

"They're right on us Carlos." You tell him, trying your hardest to keep your breakfast down as he deliberately ran a red light, causing a collision on the intersection, the car narrowly missing it.

"You doing okay? You don't sound like it." He asks you, taking a few seconds to look at you before they are back on the road as you force yourself to nod.

"Mm-hm, I just love the way car-chases make my knees weak."

"You sure it's the car and not me, hermosa?" He asks you mischievously. You giggled loudly at that. You're not a school-girl get it together. "Shut up, it almost sounds like you want us to get arrested."

He shrugged, smiling a shrewd smile. "Hey, it would be a killer story to relive and laugh about over some dinner sometime."

You glare at him and even in the dark you can see the distinct mischievous glint in his brown eyes. "Did you really just ask me out on a date? Now? While we're this close to being incarcerated???" You interrogate him loudly.

"If we get outta this alive and unscathed? I mean... it couldn't be the worst thing, no?"

You guffawed at his statement turning to him as he sped through yet another red light. "Yes it would, it seems like the only viable option for me now is to jump outta the car and surrender myself to the police."

He laughs boisterously at that. "Dios Mío, you're so mean!" Carlos exclaimed, sporting a boyish smile with his brows furrowed that made your heart do a somersault. "Speaking of police... I think we've lost them." He announces, switching his gaze from his riverview mirror to his sidemirror, with a victorious grin.

"Really??? Jesus Christ that was," you stopped to chuckle in disbelief, wiping the sweat of of your temples. "Exhilirating." You finish, finally landing on a word.

"Eh, same old, same old." Carlos sang dismissively, his face causing you to giggle. "When you've managed to accidentally rob a liquor store at 15 with your friends before school only for you to crash your dad's car into the river and have it blow up in flames all while avoiding being caught by the police, nothing surprises you anymore."

You snort. "How do you accidentally rob a liquor store?"

"Too long a story, I won't bother you with such details." He answers you, drawing a line with the air using his hand. "But the bottom line is that I'm never going to try and see how many bottles of cerveza fit inside my dad's military grade duffel bag."

You sucked in air through your teeth, shaking your head amusedly. "Christ, that behavior warrants you into being the favorite then, dosen't it?"

He hummed at you delightfully. "Look at that, we've only met tonight and yet it seems like I've known you forever." Carlos mused with a genuine smile on his face. "How do you do it?"

"Easy, I was the favorite growing up too." You replied. "Like calls to like after all."

"You're the oldest daughter followed by boys aren't you?"

"No, I was the one that followed boys, 3 of them. After years and years of trying Maman and Papa finally got the daughter they so desperately wished to have." You say, with a distant smile.

"Wow, I'm not good at this." Carlos replied dismally, raking a hand over his face with dread causing you to laugh at him again. "Hats off to them then, their daughter's pretty special."

"If I ever meet your parents I'd say the exact same thing." You replied.

He looks at you teasingly. "No you wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't." You laughed, causing him to laugh too.

The night further blurred after that, to the point that even now several hours later you couldn't exactly pinpoint where you and Carlos have gone after you exited the highway, what you have done, what you have said.

Based off of the egregious headache you were nursing, a wadded up paper bag of chic-fil-a on the chair beside you, and a familiar soreness emanating through your limbs you finally pieced everything together.

Of course, the second you came home to your apartment a call from Charles lit up your phone screen. As much as you wanted to let your phone ring into oblivion, you begrudgingly answered his call.

"vous plaisantez j'espère? c'est la millionième fois que je t'appelle et pourtant tu ne réponds que maintenant à ton téléphone?" Charles practically bellowed the second your call came through. You try not to roll your eyes in front of him. are you kidding me? this is the millionth time i've called you and yet you only answer your phone now?

"laisse-moi mettre fin à l'appel alors, essayons d'atteindre cent millions." You bounced back, pausing your show to divert your full attention to your distressed brother who had probably not even slept a wink since last night... well, earlier this morning. let me end the call then, let's try and reach a hundred million.

"quel ennui tu es! je n'ai pas dormi du tout depuis que tu as décidé de disparaître après la course et de ne pas me dire, ni à Arthur, ni à Enzo, ni même à Alex où tu étais allé!" Charles reasoned loudly making you flinch at the volume of his voice, having to calibrate your own volume settings so your head dosen't explode. what a pain you are! i havent slept at all since you decided you'd disappear after the race and not tell me, or Arthur, or Enzo or even Alex where you'd gone!

"Chill the fuck out will you? I've arrived in my apartment in one piece. I haven't been taken by the police, I don't have any injuries. Je vais parfairtement bien." I'm perfectly fine. You managed, massaging your temple off camera.

"Where were you?" Charles asks you now. "And where did your necklace go? That used to be Mamans."

"I took it off, Jesus." You lied quickly. In truth, you didn't know where the hell it was, but you decided to lie to not make the conversation last any longer than it should. "And I was off with someone- I don't- Why do I have to tell you these things? I'm as old as Arthur aren't I? I don't see you grilling him when he comes home late, in fact your fucking praise him for it!" You defend, finding it in yourself to finally raise your voice at you brother. Who scratched his head in frustration.

Charles remains silent for a second before he opens his mouth. "Fine... Fine! je ne te forcerai pas." I wont force it out of you. Charles exclaimed, ultimately giving in.

You fiddle with the remote in silence before you look back at him, bristling on your spot in the couch. "For what it's worth Cha, I'm sorry I made you worry so much. That was insensitive of me."

His face softens a little when he laughs through his nose. "Whatever, whatever. Truce." He mused, trying to sound all irritated when in fact he was not, causing you to giggle. "Don't pull shit like that the next time you come to my races, putain. I can see why Maman was so eager to let you move out."

You scowled. "you're goddamn insane if you really think i'm going to another race."

"See you Chou, take care." Says Charles, sporting a grin you were relieved to see back on his face. You rolled your eyes at him endearingly. "See you soon, Cha." You then end the call.

When you were about to put your phone down to continue watching the show you had paused, you receive a text message from an unknown number. You decide to view it so you could delete it and not have it take space in your phone storage but forgot about all of that when you finally read the message.

[zweigsangel]

strike a pose. — frat! boy chris.

pairing: frat! boy chris x fem! reader.

summary: the party takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: mentions of being high and drunk, no use of y/n.

i honestly don’t even know if i like this but whatever, hope you do!!

the music throbbed through the room, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to sync with the very beat of your heart as you danced with your friends at a party. the air was electric, the smell sweat, and alcohol mingling together. your short black dress clung to your figure, the soft fabric accentuating the curve of your hips as they swayed to the music. with one hand, you held a drink, the cool glass sweating against your palm, while your other arm was lifted high above your head, fingers loose. you were slightly tipsy, but you prided yourself on your ability to handle the alcohol well.

suddenly someone stumbled into you, nearly knocking you off balance. "hey, watch where the hell you're stepping," you shouted over the music as you spun around to face the offender.

the guy in front of you was taller than you. he was clearly high, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused, yet they managed to take you in from head to toe. a goofy smile played on his lips, and he let out a small, almost childish chuckle. his hair was messy, and he wore a backwards cap that seemed a little too big for his head, which he awkwardly adjusted with one hand. "sorry, sorry, i'm just a bit— sorry," he mumbled, his words slurring slightly, his apology repeated like a mantra.

you couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him, his unsteady stance and the way he blinked slowly, like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. without thinking, you slipped an arm around his shoulders, steadying him when you noticed the way he swayed on his feet. "hey, you okay?" you asked, leaning in closer to make sure he could hear you over the booming music, taking in the smell of weed that hung around him.

he nodded, but it was a slow, almost lazy movement, his eyes fluttering open and closed a few times as if trying to focus. "doing great my girl.” he replied and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "don’t think i’m your girl. i don’t even know who the fuck you are."

"christopher," he said, a bit more clearly this time. "but christopher sucks—so just chris." "okay, just chris," you said. "how ‘bout we sit down?"

so you both went to sit on one of the couches, away from the crowd dancing in the middle of the room. his arm draped over the back of the couch behind you, and he leaned in a bit closer, invading your personal space, but you didn’t mind. he was clearly out of it, probably unaware of how close he was getting. the noise of the party faded into the background as you began to talk.

you sipped your drink, the coolness of the glass a stark contrast to the warm atmosphere of the party. chris launched into a series of rambling stories and observations.

“i once had a dream where i was a giant marshmallow. and then i started eating myself. it was wild!” “you know, i’ve been thinking about how birds are like… secret agents.” “y’know that the earth is actually just a giant spaceship? think about it—we’re all just passengers on this huge, cosmic journey.”

and you would just nod along and laugh. and ignore how he called you ‘my girl’ after every sentence.

“girl, we need to go.” you turned to the voice of your friend, who grabbed your arm and pulled you up from the couch. you nodded and turned back to chris, who had already stood up, one hand on your shoulder for balance. “wait, let’s take a selfie,” he said, grinning. you giggled. “okay.” he pulled out his phone, and you both struck a pose as he pressed the white button on the screen, taking a photo that was surely going to be blurry. “my instagram is christopher dot sturniolo. can’t remember my number,” he shouted as your friend began to pull you away. you gave him a thumbs up, laughing, before disappearing into the crowd.

the next morning, you woke up around 11 a.m. after splashing some water on your face and drinking a glass of water, you lay back down on the bed and picked up your phone from the nightstand. you opened Instagram. “christopher dot sturniolo,” you whispered to yourself as you typed into the search bar. you clicked on the first profile that appeared, and it was him.

you began scrolling through his profile, pausing on a few photos and noticing details you hadn’t picked up on the night before. then you opened his story, and your eyes widened. there was the blurry selfie you’d taken together. above the photo, in large text, was written ‘me n my girl’

‘take it down, it’s hideous,’ you typed as a response to the story. within two minutes, you received a reply: ‘ur not hideous, my girl. ur just even more beautiful in person. when can i see you again?’

[lady-phasma]

A willing pawn

Daemon Targaryen x fem! Dornish!reader

A huge thank you to @zaldritzosrose for this amazing board. You read my mind and I don't know how you did it! An equal thank you to @black-dread for providing the missing puzzle piece to make this fic work.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, hurt/comfort if you squint, little bit of size kink, use of an infantilizing pet name (because Uncle Daddy Daemon), flimsy plot, creampie (and I truly did not plan what was going to happen there, Daemon just does whatever he wants in my brain, cheeky bastard)

Summary: You had a mission in the Stepstones, but he wasn’t as fearsome, this prince, as you had been led to believe. I’m not sure about my soft!Daemon but here he is. 4k words

The encampment was dark, lit only by dying fires. This night had been chosen because it would be moonless. Your soft-soled shoes were silent on the rocky earth as you crept between tents. You had planned your path at sunset, marking in your memory where the prince’s tent stood. As the orange light had faded from the sky, your stomach had begun to knot and twist with anxiety.

Could you really follow through with this? You knew you were able but were you capable of such a thing. The circumstances didn’t offer you any choice in the matter. Prince Qoren Martell wanted to avoid the costs of war, in gold and lives. His war counsel thought of every possible measure they could take to win this war, including involving House Yronwood. You were a cog in a larger plan and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You ducked around another tent and tiptoed to the edge of the large royal tent. This is as far as you had gotten in your strategy. From this point forward you could only hope for luck, as stealth wouldn’t matter when faced with the prince’s guards. You were sent here with the barest of plans and what little plan there was, was foolish. You listened for movement inside the tent and heard none. As you neared the front you expected a half-dozen guards but saw only two. You held your breath.

You couldn’t walk right up to the tent and demand to be let in. Sneaking in seemed to be impossible, but if you could, what next. Your heart pounded in your ears. Godsdamn it, you thought. You let out a shaky breath and slunk back into the shadows. When you turned around you almost walked face-first into a giant wall of armor.

The guard almost threw you into the tent but did not relinquish his grip on your elbow. You grunted and jerked your arm away from him as you stumbled into the large room. You caught your balance and stood up straight. The ground was covered in rugs. A table laden with maps and documents stood in the center. Next to it sat the Prince.

“We found this creeping about outside, your highness,” the guard grumbled.

Prince Daemon lounged in his chair, legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He was peeling a pear, paused mid-knife-stroke, and looked up from under his brows. They raised slightly, seemingly amused, but he didn’t bother to lift his head. He resumed his peeling.

“Leave us,” he commanded without looking up. You heard the guard’s armor as he left but didn’t take your eyes from the prince.

“What terrible deed have you been sent to do child?” He didn’t look at you, only sliced a bit of pear and popped it in his mouth. When you didn’t respond he brushed aside papers to make space on the table and laid down the knife and pear. He wiped his hands on a napkin, dropped it next to them, and stood up. Finally, he looked at you. He finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped one corner of his mouth with his thumb.

He strode toward you, sucking the pear juice off his thumb and assessing you. Much of your face was covered by your hood, stay strands of dark hair were visible but your features were cast in shadow. He dipped his head slightly and looked closely, standing only a few paces in front of you. His silver hair swung loose from his shoulder. The violet of his eyes was unnerving. You squared your shoulders.

“I am no child,” you replied, leaving off the honorific. He was no prince of yours.

“Is that so?” Daemon reached for your hood and flicked it back from your head. The only hint of surprise he allowed to show was a brief widening of his eyes. You were well aware the effect your father’s blue eyes had when set against the sienna skin you got from your mother. You narrowed your icy eyes at him.

“I’m gown enough to make it this far into your camp, am I not?” Daemon chuckled and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at you.

“I suppose so… but you did get caught, little one.”

Your cheeks flamed and you wanted to strike him but the smile on his face caught you off guard. Had he just winked at you? You were too frustrated to think and that wink made your blood boil. This was not going at all how you had expected when the guard snatched you up. Daemon didn’t so much as blink when you moved your hands from inside your cloak to push your hood back further. He was amused with you. The handle of your dagger glinted in the candlelight and caught his eye.

“So you were sent here to assassinate me?” He smiled that infernal smile. “Would you say it is going well?”

“Time will tell,” you answered through gritted teeth. Then he laughed at you, actually laughed. You clenched your hands into fists at your sides.

He took a step toward you and you tensed. You hadn’t the faintest idea what this man would do. You had only heard the rumors and propaganda in Dorne. When he reached out, you tried to take a step back from him.

“Uh-uh,” he commanded quietly. Then his hand dipped into your cloak and before you could move to stop him, he snatched your dagger out of your belt. He spun it lazily around, watching it dance in the light.

“This might have done the trick,” he spoke to the blade, not to you. “But I imagine someone with more experience should have been entrusted with it.” His eyes flicked back to your face. “Though, perhaps there were none as fierce as you.”

With absolutely no thought in your mind, you lunged forward and tried to grab the weapon from him. He deftly moved it out of your reach and grabbed your wrist with his other hand.

“As I said: fierce,” he quipped. You tugged your arm against his grasp to no avail.

“But I must!” You almost snarled at him. His expression wasn’t surprise but interest. He let you go and turned to lay your weapon on the table. When he faced you again a small smile was set on his mouth.

“Must you?” He raised an eyebrow. “If a child assassin has been sent to slay me, Dorne must be desperate indeed.”

“I am not a child! I am a woman grown, of 20 years!” You had no idea why this infuriated you but the prince knew that it did. He grinned again.

“Pardon me, my Lady. I should have said a ‘small’ assassin,” he mocked you. It was somehow kind. You were taken aback by his jest, by his demeanor. You hadn’t taken the time to pause and evaluate Prince Daemon. You had only been concerned with the ramifications of your failure.

Now that you looked, you saw a man not much older than yourself. A man who moved with experience in battle, with an ease not unlike your own. Graceful, even. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He extended his hand, offering you to sit in the chair opposite his. You had come here to threaten his life and now he was treating you like a guest! You gawped.

Before you could decide what to make of the situation, Daemon slid down into his chair and stretched his legs out again, completely unwary of you. He glanced at you one more time as he reached for his unfinished pear. You were too shocked to do anything other than sit. You closed your mouth and sat down across from him. You slipped your cloak off of your shoulders as you sat. Your common clothes weren’t uncomfortable but you weren’t used to them. You tried to adjust them as you sat but instantly became more frustrated. Daemon’s eyes on you didn’t help to easy your new-found insecurity. You were meant to have been unseen.

“Who sent you?” The blunt nature of his question startled you.

“And why should I tell you?” you retorted. You were behaving as if you were at home entertaining men you had grown up with. This was madness.

“I believe I am owed an explanation as it was my life you were planning to take. Also, what else is there to do?” He popped a slice of pear in his mouth. His eyes didn’t leave yours. “Let’s start with your name, shall we?”

You hesitated, but he was right: what else was there to do. You could sit in silence until he decided to have you executed. You could try to run from the tent only to be caught and executed sooner. So you told him your name and your house name.

“Very good,” he tossed the knife and pear back on the table. “What did Martell threaten? What predicament did he put you in?”

Your eyes widened. Was Prince Martell’s reputation so tainted, so sullied, outside Dorne?

“Not him,” you spoke quietly. “Though I suppose, ultimately, he knows. We are not a political house but we have wealth that is necessary for Dorne to succeed.” Your eyes flicked down from his at the last word. You weren’t sure why but you felt ashamed for being in this position, had all along if you thought about it.

“So if not the prince himself…” Daemon paused, waiting for your answer.

“His war counsel,” you replied. “They have many strategies in play, I’m sure, but one is to ‘motivate’ certain houses to bring the war to an early end. I have no knowledge of the other plans. I only know that my father was threatened. Whatever that threat was, it was powerful enough for him to send his youngest daughter to the Stepstones.”

There it was. You had spilled it out to the enemy in a gush and felt like vomiting or crying or fleeing. You looked up from your lap. Daemon was studying you. Once again he surprised you. Perhaps you expected him to mock you but the kindness on his face somehow made your situation more real. You bit your lip to stop the tears. You would not cry. You were angry and frightened and when the prince had called you a child it made those feelings more real.

“What choice did you have?” He sounded almost compassionate. This couldn’t be the petty tyrant you were warned against, who would rape, or torture, or kill you if you were caught. “You came all this way on an errand not of your choosing and meant to go through with it. That’s more than a little honorable, don’t you agree?”

You had no idea. You were confused and overwhelmed and angry. You had never been a zealot, but you had been more sure of your mission when the target was evil or cruel. Perhaps he was at times, but not now.

“I suppose so,” you muttered, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Well what do I do with you now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “I can’t set you free. Yet I don’t want another prisoner. And you don’t want to return home as a failure. I can see that. I could keep you as a hostage and demand gold for your safe return. Would that keep your honor intact?”

You blushed, not just from his nearness but from the fact that he could see your thoughts so clearly on your face. You and your family would be dishonored if you returned unsuccessful. It would also be unfavorable to the prince to appear compassionate to would-be assassins.

“It would,” you answered. “But I do not think the ransom would be paid.”

“No? Not for a young woman as fierce and cunning as yourself? Not for someone so precious?”

Your eyes flicked up to his at this curious word. You watched him, suspicious, as he slid out of his chair and knelt in front of you.

“I think you’re quite frightened of either choice: being sent home or being held here. I don’t want you to be frightened. Maybe the Crone had a purpose for bringing you here.”

You felt your breath catch. He looked so sincere. He was intoxicating but you believed him. You didn’t want to feel relief at the prospect of no longer sneaking, hiding, being a stowaway, but you did. Almost instantly, you imagined a hot bath, a dress and not these rags, and food that wasn’t brown. Then something else flashed in your mind and the heat returned to your face.

Daemon slowly reached out to you and stroked the side of your face. He skimmed a lock of your hair with his fingers, watching it catch the light. Its deep brown shown with hints of gold. You studied him closely. When he turned his gaze back to you, your heart pounded in your chest. His eyes searched yours as he cupped your cheek in his palm.

“Gevie,” he whispered. You thought it was High Valyrian but you weren’t sure. Your lips parted almost involuntarily as you looked up at him. He leaned toward you, silver hair cascading off his shoulders. You felt his lips on yours and closed your eyes.

His hand holding your face felt safe. His lips were warm and tasted of pear. You dared not move. You were overwhelmed and confused. However, there twisted in your belly some need, some desire for him. Your chest ached with the delicious feeling of being safe. You didn’t question how this was possible so far away from home and with your “enemy” no less. So you kissed him back.

Daemon slid his other hand to frame your face. His kiss wasn’t rough, but it was deep. You had kissed men before, you were experienced in the most basic of ways. You realized now that all the men before had not kissed you, they didn’t see you. They saw a Yronwood daughter or practice for their marriage beds. You had made those choices willingly. You weren’t concerned with being married for political reasons and had enjoyed your freedom. Until now. In this moment, you felt… precious.

Tentatively, you raised a hand to him, your fingertips grazed his jaw and neck, and came to rest on his chest. He slid his hands from your cheeks as he broke the kiss. As if waiting for your permission, Daemon rested his hands on your upper arms. You kissed him in answer. His arms swept around you and scooped you up as he stood. Your head spun but you steadied yourself by putting your hands on the back of his neck.

Daemon sat you on his bed and smoothed your hair back from your face. He stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor as he leaned down to kiss you. You made room for him on the bed, drawing him toward you with your kisses. He knelt between your legs, kissed your neck, and slid a hand under your shirt. You arched your back, pressing into his palm.

He brushed the underside of your breasts with the tips of his fingers and his other hand glided up your ribs. He pushed your shirt up above your breasts, fixated on your hardened nipples. His hair slid over your chest as he took one nipple in his mouth. He propped himself up on one hand and cupped your breast with the other. You moaned and writhed under him. You instinctively ran your fingers through his hair and held him against you. Daemon groaned and the sound vibrated from your chest to your core. When he pulled away you realized you had been grinding against his leg and flushed. He smiled down at you.

Wordlessly, he guided you to raise your arms so he could remove your shirt. Then he began to unlace your breeches. You watched his muscles move as he slid your pants off. You lifted your hips and giggled a little when you plopped back down on the bed as he tugged them off your legs. You weren’t shy but the action was awkward and you were quite exposed now. He tossed the breeches on the floor and smoothed a hand up your thigh. He stared, rapt, at the dark hair between your legs, so different from the silver of his own.

You bit your lip as you looked from his face, down his chest, and to the evidence of his arousal. His breeches looked uncomfortably tight now. His hands absently stroked your legs and your lower belly but paused as you sat up. You held him between your legs. When you kissed his stomach he hissed in air through his teeth. Your hands grazed over his hips and to the laces in the front of his pants. You let your fingertips glide over the shape of his erection before undoing the knot. You kissed seemingly every inch of his stomach then looked up at him as your hand dipped inside. His face was curtained by his hair as he looked down at you. You smiled as you stroked him.

Daemon moved his hands from your legs, smoothed over your hair, and then gently pressed your shoulders back. You laid down, already missing the feeling of him in your hands, but the sight of him between your legs was almost as pleasant. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead gently, then your lips, and pressed his forehead against yours.

You gasped as his fingers slid between the lips of your cunt. He licked his lips and continued to explore your wetness. Stroking, searching, learning. He circled your opening, your clit, and back again. One finger slid in easily and he grinned. You lifted your mouth to his as you lifted your hips to his hand. He slid in a second finger.

“You are so tight, little one,” he grinned down at you. You rocked your hips against his hand and moaned in reply. You placed one hand on his arm, pulling him deeper into you. With the other you smoothed his hair behind his ear and trailed your fingers down his jaw. You drug your fingertips over his lips. His eyes were dark as he watched you pleasure yourself on his hand.

“More, Daemon, please,” you moaned, saying his name for the first time. Hearing his name come from your lips pleased him immensely.

“Say it again,” he breathed as he curled his fingers inside you.

“Daemon, please.”

Slowly and with a tinge of disappointment on his face, he pulled his fingers from you. He was enjoying the sight of you but couldn’t wait any longer. He freed his cock from his breeches. Then he slid his hands up your thighs to your lower back. As he sat back he guided you onto his lap. The transition was clumsy at first, legs bumping and twisting. You both smiled as you held onto his shoulders. When you knelt over him you rubbed your clit against his cock. You rested your lips against his forehead as you rocked your lips. You moved your mouth nearer to his ear and murmured his name.

Daemon lifted your ass and placed you above his cock. With one hand between you, he guided himself into you. You sank down onto him slowly, watching his face. He clenched his jaw tight. You felt his hand move back to your ass. He let you set the pace, let you move against him. You pulled up and then sank down again, taking all of him. The moan that came from your lips was lewd and deep. You clutched at his neck, the back of his head, fingers entwined in his hair. He groaned but did not move to meet your hips. You rocked back, then forward, finding your rhythm.

He kissed your chest and breasts. His hands stroked your ass and lower back, constantly moving. You leaned forward slightly and pressed yourself against him. At this angle he wasn’t as deep in you, but you found friction against his stomach. You ground your hips into him, almost, but not quite able to get what you needed.

“Seven hells,” he panted against you. His hips had begun to move in time with yours. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair and you tried to find that much-needed angle again. When he realized what you needed he slid a hand between you. You threw your head back as his fingers circled your clit. You sped up, fucking him hard. He kept pace with you, circling and pressing his fingers against you. You couldn’t keep a steady rhythm. You felt him brace your lower back with his hand and pull you closer to him, steadying you, supporting you. You felt your climax tug at your core and sank further onto his cock with each stroke.

“Come for me,” Daemon whispered into your neck. You did. You cried his name, clinched your fists in his hair, and buried your face against his head. You sank all the way down onto him, thighs resting on his as you shook. Your cunt spasmed around his cock but he didn’t stop moving his fingers. He pressed into you with his hips, rocking under you, and bringing forth tiny gasps from you. You lips found his and you panted into his mouth. Tiny sounds mingled with his name flew out of your mouth with every movement of his fingers.

When you thought the overstimulation might be too much he moved his hand from between you. He slid his hand under your arm and pulled you down onto him by your shoulder. A new wave of pleasure crashed into you as he spilled into you. His hips stilled, holding his cock deep inside you. He came panting and moaning your name.

You wanted to sink all of your weight onto him. It took too much effort to support yourself on your aching knees. Neither of you wanted to move yet, though both of you needed to. You released your hands from his hair. You kissed him and smoothed his hair back from his face.

You smiled at him as you rose shakily from his lap. He helped you as much as he could, but your legs were numb and your head was empty. You all but fell back onto the pillows. He watched you grind your hips against the air as the last of your climax left you. His eyes were locked on his seed sliding out of you. He leaned forward, his legs shaking as well. You watched him through half-closed eyes and settled yourself on the bed. His fingers slid through his cum and you twitched as he grazed your throbbing clit. He looked into your blue eyes as he gathered more of it on his fingers. You smiled seductively as he leaned over you and raised his fingers to your lips.

You opened your mouth, your eyes never leaving his, and he painted your tongue with his seed. You closed your lips around his fingers and let him feel you swallow. He slid his fingers out and surprised you by kissing you deeply, tasting himself in your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist. You playfully pulled his weight on top of you. He let you but also guided you both to lay on your sides. Your legs intertwined and you were a tangle of limbs for a moment. Then you buried your face into his chest and breathed in deeply. You sighed as he smoothed your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. You were quite small in his arms. Daemon breathed deeply as he stroked down your back, your buttocks, and up again. You curled against him, one hand between you, the other resting on his hip.

“I have you now, little one,” he murmured against the top of your head.

Masterlist

[stubz]

Storyteller

"Hello Max, I'm here to surprise Pollix with a early pick up."

"Oh how nice, although I don't know if he'll want to go right now."

"Why not? Is he in the middle of a game?"

"No, its story time."

The tighalax smirks. "You really think he won't want to come because of 'story time'?" he laughs.

"Just look and see." the human smiles.

The teacher leads the giant feline being through the child centre to a corner where a colorful and beautiful plush carpet lays on the floor. Not that you could see it as it was covered by sitting younglings. All entranced by the human standing before them telling them a story rather animatedly and loudly.

"Pollix, lets go." calls Dux, looking at his cub.

Not even a glance.

"Pollix."

An ear twitch but still no look.

"...Pollix!"

The whole class looks including Kim.

"Oh, Pollix, your dad is here."

"Papa, not yet! The story isn't done." whines the cub.

"...you want to finish the story?"

"Pollix wants to finish the story! Jax and Morgana are fighting the monster now!" cries Nova.

"...is it almost over?"

"Oh, um, almost but, Pollix I can tell you the rest tomorrow-"

"My Papa says its okay!" Pollix cries interrupting Kim

"...is it okay if I...?" trails a very embarrassed Kim.

The tighalax nods and actually goes to sit next his cub. The sight making Max snort as the 8 foot tall feline like being towers over the younglings. After he settles in and Pollix snuggles in on his Papa's lap he gives Kim the okay to continue.

"...story teacher!" whines the children, their teacher taking too long for their liking to continue the story.

"Oh...right...okay then." she mutters, face red from nerves and embarrassment. This was the first time a parent saw her tell a story.

"...the monster roared at our heroes, swinging his mighty axe down at them. Flung into the air our hero, Jax, is grabbed by the giant's fist and thrown into the monster's mouth." The cubs gasp as the human acts out the catching their hero. Her voice slowly getting louder again.

"NO!"

"What does Morgana do?!"

"Is he dead?!"

"Morgana, seeing that the villain ate her friend charges at him as soon as she lands. Her sword drawn and ready, her face angry, eyes full of tears, and with a mighty cry leaps at the giant." She begins to act out the story, going back to her story telling enthusiasm.

"The monster in turn swings his axe at her, with her in the air it will definitely hit her. The axe hits Morgana and she falls to the ground badly hurt...but not without killing the beast. At the last moment she gathers all her magic into her sword and throws it at the giant monster, piercing his evil heart!" cries Kim, thrusting her hand out as if she had just thrown the very sword.

"...and then..." whispers Nova.

"The monster fades away, revealing a hurt but alive Jax. Seeing Morgana he drags himself to her and they hug, happy to see each other again. Even if they're both not in one piece. The healers arrive and the two head home where they continue the rest of their adventure together, as they were always meant to be. The end."

The cubs cheer with most asking for another story.

"No, no more stories for today. Let's give Kim a break, okay, she's already told you 4 stories." Max ushers the kids towards the toys.

"That was a very good tale teacher Kim, I never knew Earth had such interesting history."

"Hmm? Oh that wasn't our history."

"A legend or folktale then?"

"No, just a made up story."

"Ah, could you tell me the name of it? I would like to read it to Pollix at home, it sounded very interesting."

"Oh uh, I actually just made it up." the human smiles.

"You made it up!? How long ago? Must have taken you ages." Praised Dux, tail flicking in excitement.

"Actually I just made it up now, I make the story up as I go."

"...you make it up as you go...y'know that offer to quit your job and join my pack still stands right? Our planet and culture greatly value Storytellers such as yourselves, you could even make a great living if you worked for me."

"Thanks but I don't think I could ever do that, I hate public speaking!" grins the human.

"...but you just-"

"Children are the exception."

[youcalledsworld]

The Lost Phantom Women

Valerie and Danny are married and they adopted Danielle who can't age or mature until she lives until her physical age.

One day when Valerie and Danielle are out flying in the Infinite Realm to visit Dorathea when they flew through a natural portal into the DC universe.

Thanks to Danny, the Fenton parents and Tucker, Valerie's suit could keep up with Danny and let her battle with their rogues some of whom could be considered gods. And while Danielle is her own person she is still the clone of a powerful Halfa.

This led to the Justice League and villains trying to find out where these two powerful beings came from. Valerie and Danielle don't want anything to do with either side.

But they got cornered by both sides and were fighting back. Valerie got injured taking a shot that was going to hit Danielle. And when Danielle saw her mother fall to the ground she unleashed a wail that shook the earth and allowed Danny to locate them.

But instead of going to them Danny pulled the earth into the Infinite Realms.

All the heroes and villains could see after realising their ears and opening their eyes when the pain faded was green and purple sky's and a giant with green eyes and white hair looking down on them demanding to know what they are doing to his wife and child.