#ch: lady of the forest

[vilnan]

NATURE OF THE BEAST;

lady of the forest. 🍃

[thraeshula]

tag dump

answered / ic. starters / ic. open  / ic. headcanons / ooc. meta / ooc.

musings / if a lead guitarist shreds in the forest does he make a sound? ch. study / eddie munster grew up and now he’s even more fucking annoying. face / old lady krancheck says i’m a handsome young man. likes / AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. aesthetic / born on a mountain raised in a cave truckin’ and fuckin’ are all that I crave. ship inspo / i am a detriment few can endure. wardrobe / 5 blacks shirts and none of them washed.

[gremlingottoosilly]

The horror and the wild [!emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] ch.5

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5l you're here! AO3

Word count: 3188 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig

Warnings for this chapter: Predator/Prey kink, mild choking

Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her. Little princess is dumb and naive and oh, so deliciously weak, it makes Konig sick just how much he adores her pouty face, her aggressive expressions, and that squeak in her voice every time he does something to embarrass her – which he does, a lot, in fact. Quite aware of how his war dog lingo would affect an innocent young lady like his precious dearest darling illustrious wife, he uses it to hi advantage – when you have your lady cornered, heavy panting and cumming from your tongue and your fingers in her tight royal cunt, she wouldn’t be able to open her mouth for something meaningless, right? Thou shall not think as thou would be a sin against god. 

Emperor is a sinner, but he still believes that you shall always follow the religious instructions – as if not ever trying to oppose him and speak like you have the right to think in his presence. Perhaps, his devotion to making you weak and pliable in his arms is what led to this situation. 

Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her, so little princess runs. 

You might brag about your best education and most elegant courses for women you attended in the palace – but he knows just how empty your adorable little head is, because you had no idea how much the thrill of the hunt turns him on. 

You’re nowhere to be found, escaped through the window of the room you were stationed in – it was his mistake, assigning you a place from which you could jump so easily. Next time, he will cuff you to his bedpost, like a loyal palace dog lying on his legs. Next time, he will make sure to love you so eagerly that your legs won’t work for at least a few days. 

He doesn’t even need his hunting dogs to catch you. Horangi offers his help, Tiger so eager to come out and play with a little princess, perhaps maul her a bit, showing the royal cunt what she deserves for disrespecting her emperor and his subjects – but oh no, this won’t do. König needs to discipline you himself, track your scent like the hound he is, and get you back to your wedding bed with your body in his teeth. 

Woe on you, dumb little princess, as your emperor considers escape attempts the richest form of courting. 

Following you through the forest near the castle, your footsteps are clear in the mud and dirt – a piece of your dress serves as a grinding light. Your scent, delicious sweetness, and fresh flower oils maid had infused you with made it laughably easier to find you. He can almost see the glimpses of your body running through the woods – god, he knew that he wanted you and was right about taking you away. 

How can he resist a wedding gift from his bride who wants to play tag? He follows you like a madman, a dog, he sees through trees, trying to see where you could run. The deep golden brown of your dress almost made you look like a forest spirit standing in the depths of the woods – if it weren’t for König’s trained eye, he would rather mistake you for a tree. Or a particularly precious deer. 

He licks his lips, a wolf approaching the bunny he was hunting for so long – you run away, still try to. These dumb skirts aren’t made for running away from your fiancee in a forest – you can barely walk in those, poor thing. You take a step back, panicking, squawking from fear, as he approaches you as slowly as possible. 

Perhaps, if he gives you one more chance to run, it would make the chase even more precious. 

He is used to hunting with his royal hounds, with a group of his closest friends by his side – war hawks helping hunt for prey, the animal snifters making the whole process laughably easy. He doesn’t have anyone for the company now. 

Only you, him, and wilderness – and his adoring love for everything you do. 

— Stop resisting, little princess.

You whimper, but your little annoyed expression makes him only harder. Hell, how he adores your frown, how much he wants to kiss your face right now – god knows he is holding himself back these days. Little princess doesn’t deserve to get her innocence taken on her back, legs open on the dirt of the royal forest – but sometimes you act like a good lashing, and some passionate mating is the only thing that would keep you in line. 

He yells in your direction, hoping that even that dumb head of yours has some sense in it – the chase is fun, and he would continue it more until you’re completely unraveled under him, exhausted and defeated – but, oh, your silly desire to be free has led you to the edge of the lake. Dancing on the shaky, soft sands and warm mud of the pond, your clothes leave you with very small chances of getting out of here in one piece. 

He doesn’t want to be the bringer of doom, but just one sleep, a nervous movement that you can’t control – and the little princess of his dreams will come flying in the dark waters. Even if your royal majesty knows how to swim, the heavy fabrics of your garments would be declared as your executioners. 

You look so fragile like this – your skirt is lifted, showing your pretty ankles, as you’re trying to jump from stone to stone, as far away from him as possible. You’re scared, only reminding him more of the bunnies he used to hunt as a kid – and he is almost offended that you’d prefer that risk of drowning over getting in the hands of your husband again, but alas, princesses are usually not the smartest creatures on the planet. 

— I’d rather die, Your Majesty. 

You bite your lips and look at him, so stubborn and cute – the feelings in him rise, your arrogant expression making the thrill of the hint ever sweeter. God, he cannot control himself around you like this – you should stop trying to make yourself sweeter for him, he already wants to keep you chained in his bed and never let you go. 

You’re so…

Ach. 

His path of thought is stopped by the splash of water. 

Dumb thing, you really decided to make the most of your words – like a cornered animal, you jumped in the lake, getting to the bottom almost immediately. Your dress is heavy and expensive, all the weight of the fabrics pinning you down in elaborate execution. Your emperor stands on the small beach, looking at the water circles going from where you fell…and then he jumps straight after you. 

The last thing you remembered before the world went dark was the scream of a man who, for the first time in his life, had experienced genuine fear. 

*** You wake up warm – and naked. 

No wet clothes, no heavy dress lingering on your skin like a soft coffin. 

You’re as naked as the day you were born, shivering despite the warmness of the room and the crackling of fire somewhere near you. You remember this room – a royal bedroom, quickly made as your quarters when you moved to this god-forsaken castle. Empire has some horribly extensive architecture, and this room, big, stony, and expelled of any decor, has only made you feel regret ever waking up. 

You wished to wake up in the cold embrace of your Princess – but you open your eyes and see this room over and over again. Why couldn’t death come sooner? 

— It was incredibly stupid even for you, little princess. 

König sits on the edge of the bed. A future husband shouldn’t sit like this, resembling a servant who is scared for the health of his misstress. His eyes are filled with cold fury and other emotions that you can’t quite grasp – you don’t want to look at his face too much as even the mere glimpse is making you uncomfortable. God knows you are not in the mood for trying to talk to your captor. 

God knows he doesn’t care about your wishes. 

— If you can only provide me freedom in case of my death…

— You will not be free after your death. 

You sigh, shocked – your brain isn’t nearly ready for this information when you just almost died. You shift in your bed, trying to pretend that you accidentally fell asleep – but the emperor pushes his hand on your cheek, warm fingers lingering on the cold skin. You sigh quietly, sealing his warmth. 

You fight the desire to nuzzle in his palm like an obedient little pet. 

— It’s not for you to decide, Your Majesty. I should be allowed to die on my own accord. 

— I'm entitled to your life, my bride. Don’t make me remind you of this, ja? 

— I would rather… 

— I can deliver death to you, little one. In a verdammt heartbeat. 

His hand goes from a warm presence on your cheek to an angry squeeze of your neck – you cough when he continues to shut your breath, fluttering of your neck in his grasp only makes your defeat even sweeter. König has you right where he wants it – under him, holding firmly in his grasp like some exotic bird he picked up from his travels. 

Lack of air makes you dizzy – as ironic as it sounds, you feel airheaded, hands clinging to his massive palm in a poor attempt to make him let you go. You whimper, you cry, you feel death all too soon – you want to die, of course, maybe, willingly meeting in hell with the royalty you had sworn to serve, but you don’t want to be killed. Tears run down your cheeks when you finally see the other side of him – out of control, angry, worse even than the conqueror you saw when you first met. 

You feel replaceable and small – he squeezes your throat like you aren’t his bride like you don’t mean anything to him, and, yes, it makes you feel hurt. Vulnerable as ever, your manicured nails have zero power over him – he only laughs at your helpless expression. For a second, it makes you think this is it – the last thing you would ever see is the cold anger in the eyes of your emperor. 

When your vision finally got blurry enough so you could not see anything anymore, König softly lowered his face closer to you, lifting the bottom part of his weird, strange hood. Smothering you with his lips, delivering the air you were craving for – if only to make himself feel even more in control. You’re lightheaded and a bit dumb, still, your mind is too delirious to actually understand anything that is happening around you. 

His lips are warm and dry, you steal air from his lungs with each second – you feel the energy feeling you up again, eyes are finally set enough to see at least some part of his face. Chiseled chin, covered in scars, tanned skin – you’re surprised that he is not as pale as you thought he must be, with his love for the masks. 

His veins are dark and rotten – you don’t understand how he can survive with his blood looking like this, but the dark tendrils of his body almost make him more of a curiosity than an actual human being. It’s only his lips that are still holding you in realms of the living. You don’t want to think of the implications and gossip you heard from some servants that were allowed to go out – allowed to witness the growth of the empire that was soon to eat you all. 

König finally lets go of your mouth when you start falling asleep again. You don’t allow him to simply cover his lips with his hood again though – your hands are heading to lend on his neck, fingers tracing the outlines of his veins. 

A medical curiosity, this emperor – you squeeze the rot of his neck, and he moans like you just did something that he liked too much. 

It’s only fitting that he has the body of a monster – for all he is done, you wouldn't be surprised if his head actually resembles the one of an octopus from silly books you were reading or a mess of dark tendrils, wiggling and swarming. Your delirious, oxygen-deprived mind still wants to touch him more, to satisfy your curiosity in all the more fitting ways. Maybe take your research a bit further down to see if he truly is a man down there. 

But oh well, you saw his body before – although you never as much as paid attention to that detail. Did he change in a few days that passed? Does his veins start to spew out darkness because he is…

He crushed your hand in his, almost making you feel a crack in your dainty lady fingers. God forbid you feel like your hands are being torn apart. 

— Never try to defy me like this again. 

He spews the words with anger than would be fitting for the enemy – and he is, for you, but you were sure that he didn’t consider you one of them. The contrast with his soft actions earlier, you can feel tears collecting in your eyes as he slowly lets go of your hand. 

Not knowing what to do, you roll to the side, burning desire to never see his face – or lack thereof – ever again. Like an angry cat that doesn’t know how to stop biting, you feel like you’re going to cry again and again. 

You whimper, trying to escape the haunting gaze of his eyes – and his face softens, if only for a bit. He presses his hand against your damp forehead, checking the temperature. You don’t want to forgive him just yet – for anything at this matter, but he is soft at this moment, and somehow, it is almost enough. Somehow, you almost feel like you can breathe again. 

— I was so scared, little princess. I don’t like being scared. 

You laugh dryly, your face is still deep in the pillow. You are trying to ignore the beast, but the beast decided that you’re his best option for a nice free snack. Beast decided to take off some of his clothes – you don’t see it, but you hear the sound of fabric hitting the floor, and you don’t want to even think how much it cost. 

You try to cover your naked body with the silk sheets of your bed, but soft fabric only entices your desires in a way that can only be called sinful. You remember the sensation of his tongue between your legs, your desire to simply run out of your skin because of how good it felt – each stroke made you strive further and further away from your duties. Like a good little maid you are, a perfect lady in waiting, waiting for her demise, you have to ignore all the mortal pleasures. 

If you want the royal family to truly forgive you in their graves, you would have to join them. Perhaps, you gave up on drowning too fast. 

— It wasn’t my intention. 

He shifts, the bed is too small for someone like him. You feel his legs, clothed, thank god, touching your naked thighs – and you immediately stir to the further side. You keep your arms and legs in check, getting into a small ball of limbs as you’re trying to comfort yourself without his touch. You don’t want to admit it, but König is warm, warmer than you thought he had the right to be, and you’re freezing. The phantom feeling of cold water on your skin is making you shiver. 

— What were your intentions then? 

If the emperor knows about manners and how a fiancee should behave around his bride that he didn’t even consummate the marriage, he is ignoring that knowledge. Large hands pinning you to his chest, warm and firm – to your utter dread, he took off the armor plates and even the simple shirt under it, making you helplessly squish your cheek against his muscles. He smells like a man, and you never knew you’d feel that smell in your life. 

You don’t hate it. 

— You killed by parents, Your Majesty. 

He only laughs, his hand goes to stroke your back. This is a contrast with his coldness before – he is soft and warm with you, and you hate that you don’t hate it. Gigantic palm goes to settle between your shoulder blades and you simply sigh, trying to get used to his touches. You don’t want to, but a good servant should adapt to everything, so you do just that. Adapting, deforming, melding yourself in something you never knew you even could be. 

Your head hurts, and you whimper when his gentle massage relaxes your sore muscles. You hate his gentleness, you hate his firmness. 

You want him to let you go, but you don’t even know where you would go. 

— Your parents, little princess? Really? 

There is a vile mockery in his voice, and you immediately remember who this man is. Not some devoted lover and slightly obsessive romanticist – he is dangerous, horrible, he is the conqueror of your country. You may not have warm feelings about the royal family, but he doesn’t know this – his laugh and mockery of your “family�� must be real. It has to be, or else you’re going to die after your deceiving has been opened. 

He pushes you even closer to him, and you whimper like a dumb little dog without any means of stopping him from touching you. There is some freedom from being exposed like this, but you still don’t like it. Still feel like he is going to murder you, given the reason. 

— If anything, my men did it. That dog you called a father did not deserve my sword. 

Anger fills your whole body – not because you were particularly close with the king, but because König is parading his mockery of your supposed family. He hugs you with hands that are covered in blood, no matter if he is just the one to give orders. 

You try to get out of his grasp, but apathy fills you. What’s the point if the royal family is dead? What’s the point if you aren’t even the real princess. 

— You will not call my father…

He makes you shut your mouth when he kisses your head. Sweet and soft, you do not understand his intentions. If anything, it feels like yet another mockery. 

— I will call him like I want, meine Liebe. And you will still be mine. 

— I won’t just take it, Your Majesty. 

He laughs again. You feel sick. 

— With our wedding tomorrow, little flower, you will have to take it. Not the last thing you’ll take on that day, little princess. 

You feel like you are going to be sick. 

König kisses you again, forcing you to sleep in his hands. 

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 9

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

You pushed through the thick underbrush, heart pounding in your chest.

The forest around you was eerily still. No birds chirped, no insects buzzed – only the sound of your labored breathing and the squelch of slush beneath your feet filled the silence. It was unnatural, this quietness, and it pressed down on you, making the weight of your fear heavier with each step.

The trees seemed to close in on you, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, as if to ensnare you and keep you trapped here. A cold, dampness clung to the air, seeping into your skin, and with it came an overwhelming sense of dread. Goosebumps prickled across your flesh despite the adrenaline surging through your veins. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you, lurking just beyond the veil of trees, waiting for the moment you would falter. But you pressed on, driven by the need to escape. To get far away from that wretched castle.

Then, through the dense weave of trunks and branches, you glimpsed a clearing up ahead.

Relief flooded through you as the forest began to thin and you could finally see the open sky beyond the tree line. The cool, crisp air felt less suffocating now, and the oppressive silence began to lift.

In the clearing sat a small, weathered house on the outskirts of your home village, its stone chimney puffing out light wisps of smoke that curled lazily into the blue afternoon sky. At the front of the house stood an older man, his worn face partially obscured by the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, sinewy forearms as he swung his axe in a steady, rhythmic arc. Each strike landed with a deep, satisfying thud, splitting the logs on the chopping block cleanly in two. Nearby, a woman stood beside a clothesline, pinning up a white bedsheet.

As you came into view, their eyes snapped onto you.

Confusion flickered across their faces before swiftly morphing into alarm. The man’s swing faltered, his grip loosening on the handle as if it suddenly weighed too much. The heavy axe slipped from his fingers and thudded into the dirt, forgotten. The woman froze mid-motion, her hands hovering over the clothesline, the pins dangling uselessly in her grip. Both stared at you, their mouths slightly parted, wide-eyed and silent. The color drained from their faces, as though seeing you was something beyond unexpected – something wrong.

You tore your gaze away, the weight of their stares pressing heavily against your back as you bolted past them.

You soon caught the scent of smoke – thick and sharp, laced with the earthy richness of soil and burning wood. You were close now. The village chimneys had to be just beyond the next hill. The ache in your legs barely registered anymore as the familiar rooftops of your home village finally came into view.

You slowed to a normal pace as you entered the village center.

The cobblestone path beneath your feet was just as you remembered it, worn smooth from years of footfall, with tufts of grass sprouting between the cracks like stubborn survivors. The familiar cottages lined the road, their thatched roofs and weathered wooden walls still standing strong against the passage of time. Despite everything you had been through, this place was untouched, like it’s been frozen in time since the day you were taken three months ago.

Your eyes flickered from house to house, catching glimpses of villagers going about their daily lives. Everything appeared normal: a young woman scrubbed clothes in a wooden basin, her hands working rigorously, though they paused mid-scrub as she caught sight of you. Her mouth parted in silent surprise, eyes widening as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Further down, an elderly man who had been tending to his small garden straightened, his wrinkled face going slack with shock as his eyes met yours. Children playing and chasing one another in the center stopped their game once they saw you as well, their laughter dying as they stood frozen, wide-eyed, and confused.

One by one, they all turned to stare at you.

The rhythm of the village came to a standstill. The clatter of daily life – the scrape of tools, the splash of water, the murmur of voices – faded into an eerie silence. Whispered conversations replaced them, soft and hushed.

You could feel their disbelief, their fear – how could you be here?

You, who had been dragged away in the dead of night, taken to Castle Dimitrescu, a place no one returned from. And yet here you were, standing in front of them, unmistakably alive.

Their eyes burned through you. It wasn’t just your face they studied, but the clothes you wore. The servant’s uniform clung to your skin like a foreign presence, its fine, embroidered fabric so out of place in your home village. It would be the most luxurious thing these people had ever seen. It only heightened the gap between you and them. You were one of them once, but now? Now you were something else, something apart.

The whispers grew louder, more frantic, the air thick with suspicion and curiosity.

You had to get a move on.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed through the narrow roads, heading toward your parents' home. You kept your head down, the uniform pulling tighter with each movement.

Your footsteps echoed dully on the cobblestones as the sight of your home grew closer. It was just as you remembered it: the sturdy wooden walls, worn with age, still bore the same cracks from long-forgotten storms. Even the shutters hung slightly askew, paint peeling just like they had years ago.

You stopped for a moment, swallowing hard as you gazed at your home.

How will your parents react to seeing you?

You had been gone for so long, they must have feared the worst. The thought gnawed at you, twisting your stomach with worry, but you needed to see them again. You needed them to know that you were still alive; the guilt of missing this chance would haunt you if you didn't take it.

With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and approached the front door. You raised a trembling hand, feeling the cold metal of the door handle underneath your fingertips. You pushed the door open. The familiar creak of the hinges sent a wave of bittersweet nostalgia through you. You paused for a moment just inside, listening to the quiet rustle of movement in the next room.

Then you heard it – a voice. Your mother’s voice, soft and soothing, humming one of the many lullabies she used to sing to you as a child. The sound was so achingly familiar that it almost brought tears to your eyes. You let out a heavy exhale and closed the door behind you. Slowly, you made your way to the back of the house. As you reached the kitchen, you saw her. Your mother, standing at the table, her hands covered in flour as she kneaded dough. Her hair was streaked greyer than you remember, but her face was the same – kind and full of warmth.

When she looked up and her eyes met yours, a look of shock and disbelief crossed her face. The dough slipped from her fingers, falling forgotten onto the table as she took in the sight of you standing there. For a long, breathless moment, the world seemed to stop spinning.

Then, without a word, she stumbled forward, her arms reaching out in an urgent, desperate motion. When she finally closed the distance between you, she enveloped you in a fierce embrace. Her arms wrapped around you with such intensity that it was almost painful, but you didn’t care. You clung to her as if she was the only thing anchoring you to this world.

“I thought I’d lost you forever.” Your mother whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

You couldn’t find the words to reply. All you could do was hold your mother close.

You buried your face into her shoulder, inhaling her comforting scent, a blend of lavender and vanilla. Her hands shook as she stroked your hair, still murmuring words you could barely make out. You’re not even sure what she’s saying – just that it was full of relief.

Suddenly, a creak echoed from down the hallway. You both turned toward the sound. Your father stepped into view, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“What’s going on? I thought I heard-”

His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of the two of you huddled together. For a moment, he simply stared, as if he couldn’t trust what he was seeing. His brows knit together in confusion, his mouth parting slightly as he struggled to grasp the reality before him. Your mother quickly wiped away the tears that glistened on her cheeks, trying to regain her composure.

“It’s alright,” she said, her voice steadier now but still thick with emotion. “She’s here. She’s really here.”

Your father’s gaze remained locked on you, but his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Is it…?” He took a tentative step closer, his hand gripping the doorframe for support, as if he might collapse if he let go. “It can’t be.”

“It’s me, papa,” you managed to say, your voice wavering despite your best efforts to stay strong. “I’m here.”

Your father’s resolve crumbled at your words. He immediately closed the distance and before you knew it, he wrapped you in his arms. The hug was tight, more desperate than your mother’s, as if he feared that if he let go, you might vanish again. His chest shook against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his tears seeping into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He choked on the words.

Your mother, still hovering close, reached out to take your hand. “We never stopped thinking about you, not for a single day. We always hoped that you would come back to us.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. All the fear, the pain, the darkness that’s haunted you since you were brought to the castle, it all welled up and spilled over in a flood of tears. You leaned into them both, letting the weight of everything you’ve carried finally lift, even if just for a moment. It’s not gone – not by a long shot – but standing here between your parents, you felt something you haven’t felt since the day you were forcibly taken; love.

Your father pulled back slightly, his hands gripping your shoulders. His brows furrowed deeply, concern and confusion etched into every line of his face.

“How did you even manage to escape?”

You took a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the memory.

“I had some help,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. The faces of Catalina and the maid who gave you the note flashed in your mind briefly. “One of the staff slipped me a note... told me where the main house key was hidden. I just had to wait for the right moment when I didn't have the Lady's or her daughter’s attention on me.”

Your father leaned forward, his voice low and edged with worry. “Will they come looking for you?”

A cold shiver slithered down your spine as you knew the answer to that question all too well. You nodded slowly.

“They will.” You admitted, swallowing against the tightness in your throat.

Your father's face darkened as he clenched his jaw with determination. “We’ll protect you. Whatever it takes, we’ll keep you safe here. We could hide you.”

You knew he meant it – he would stand between you and any threat – but you also knew what Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were capable of. The lengths the lady would go to in order to retrieve what she considered “hers” were beyond their understanding. The thought of her daughters descending on your village, tearing through homes and lives, made your stomach churn.

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as you stared at the worn floorboards beneath your feet. Every ounce of your being longed to stay with your parents, to hold onto the comfort and safety of home, but you knew, deep down, that staying here would only invite more danger. You finally shook your head.

“No, I can’t let you do that.” You said, your voice firmer than you expected.

Your father’s stern expression softened, though his resolve remained unshaken. “We’re not giving up on you. You just came back to us.” His voice wavered slightly near the end.

Your mother's hand tightened around your own. “We can’t stand by and watch you face this alone.”

“I know,” you said solemnly. “But if I stay here, you’ll all be in danger, including the others, and I can’t risk that. It’s the only way to keep you safe.” You could feel the burn of tears welling up behind your eyes, but you blinked them back. “I just needed to see you two again.”

Your parents exchanged worried glances with each other, a silent conversation passing between them. For a moment, you thought your father might try to stop you, pull you into an embrace, and refuse to let you go. But instead, his hand slowly dropped, defeated. “Okay,” he sighed, his voice heavy with resignation. “You know we’ll always be here for you.”

You offered a tight smile, one that barely masked the knot tightening in your chest. You hugged them both again, lingering a bit longer, memorizing their warmth as if it might be the last time you’d feel it. As you stepped back, you noticed the fear in your mother’s eyes.

“Please stay safe.” Your mother pleaded.

“I’ll be careful.” You promised, squeezing her hand tightly in yours.

She gave a small nod, her eyes still clouded with worry. “Let me at least pack you some extra layers and food before you go.” She insisted.

Without waiting for a response, she was already walking down the hallway. You turned your attention back to your father. His gaze was heavy with all the unsaid things hanging between you: warnings, well-meaning advice, and unspoken fears. He then turned and moved to a drawer near the living room. He pulled out a worn, steel revolver, its cold metal reflecting the soft light. The gun had seen better days, its surface scarred by time and use.

With a solemn expression, he walked back over to you.

“Take this,” he said, holding the revolver out to you. “Just… make sure you don’t take unnecessary risks. And remember, no matter what happens, we’re here for you.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear of losing you that he struggled to hide.

“I promise, papa.” You replied as you accepted the revolver, tucking it under your waistband. You wished you could offer your father more comfort.

Your mother returned a minute later, carrying a large duffel bag and your thick jacket. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening. The sight made your heart ache even more.

“Everything you might need is in here,” she said softly, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay strong. “Clothes, some food, and a few personal items. I put in that quilt too. I know it’s bulky, but-” Her voice broke slightly, and she bit her lip so hard that it turned a stark, painful white.

You reached for the thick jacket, feeling its comforting weight as you pulled it on. You then took the duffel bag from her and slung it over your shoulder.

“Thank you, mama.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the lump forming in your throat.

She reached out with trembling fingers, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. You stepped forward and hugged them one last time, your arms wrapping around them as tightly as you could. When you finally pulled away, the heaviness in your chest felt like a leaden anchor, dragging you down even as you turned to leave.

“I love you.” Your voice cracked.

“We love you too.” Your father said softly.

He wrapped an arm around your mother’s shoulder and drew her in close. His eyes shone with unshed tears, mirroring the anguish in your mother’s gaze.

You finally stepped out of the house, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. The sky above was a deepening shade of indigo, with the first stars starting to pierce through the twilight.

With one final, lingering glance back, you saw your parents standing by the doorway, watching you wander off. The sight was almost too much to bear. You fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You took a deep breath and began to make your way toward the tree line.

Most villagers had retreated indoors by now. Only a few remained outside, giving you odd stares as you passed them. You quickened your pace, feeling the weight of their gazes on the back of your head.

The trees ahead loomed larger with every step. The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of pine and frost, each breath forming fleeting clouds that dissipated almost immediately.

As you trudged through the forest, the idea of leaving the village altogether flickered in your mind. You imagined escaping to somewhere far from the horrors of Castle Dimitrescu. Yet, that thought was immediately squashed down. You knew that was too risky due to the Lycans that prowled around the outskirts of the forest.

No one had ever made it past them. Stories told of those who had tried over the past few decades had vanished without a trace. Never to be seen again. Their fates were as much a part of the forest’s lore as the whispering wind through the trees.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, mingling with the cold air. The darkness was creeping in, casting an ominous veil over the forest. Finding shelter had to be your foremost concern now.

***

You wandered on in a daze, your sense of time slipping away like sand through your fingers.

As the trees seemed to blur together, you spotted an old, gnarled tree standing apart from the others.

In the shadow of the tree, you noticed something strange – a faint outline, a hollow space nestled within the roots and vines. The entrance was partially obscured, concealed by the overgrowth that clung to the ancient bark, yet it was wide enough for you to slip through. With a cautious glance around, you crouched low and carefully maneuvered your way inside. The air within was musty but cool. You found a relatively clean patch of earth amidst the clutter of roots and twigs and settled yourself down.

With a sigh of relief, you placed your bag on the ground and leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. Its coarse texture against your back was oddly grounding. You tilted your head backward and exhaled slowly, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

A sense of peace settled over you as you allowed yourself to rest, even if just for a little while.

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆RETRIBUTION CH: 5

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS You found yourself stripped of your immortality, a punishment for daring to flout the edicts laid down by your father. Your transgressions? Two-fold. First, the grave sin of disobedience, and Secondly, the cardinal offense of falling irrevocably in love with your Lady in waiting. In your father’s eyes, the sanctity of your divinity was tarnished by a same-gender relationship, a concept that he vehemently repudiated as aberrant and abhorrent. Such unforgivable love, he pontificated, dulled your goddess-like essence. Thus he used his powers and casted you adrift into a parallel universe suffused with curses and sorcerers whose love aren't really the healthy type of love, a punishment to show you that ‘Love’ isn’t all about sunshine and rainbows

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS Gore, Slow Burn Yandere, Love Percentage Au. Pseudo Incest on Choso’s Case. Confusing Bullshit. Sexual themes, Biological Incest. Unedited.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS Yandere! Jjk x Isekai’d! Goddess! Reader

⋆♱⋆LOVE INTERESTS Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieri, Yuki Tsukumo, Kento Nanami, Utahime Iori, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen

⋆♱⋆NOTE Also posted in wattpad & quotev. Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3.

⋆♱⋆PREVIOUS CHAPTER

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

A GUST OF WIND whispered past you, its delicate fingers tracing a chill across your [S/c] skin, and a sigh escapes your lips, dark lashes fluttering shut.

You clutched at the shredded fabric of your gown, the pads of your fingers tracing the crushed remnants of the necklace nestled in your décolletage.

Though the chains had withstood the violence that had befallen on you, the jewel at its center now lay in glittering shards pressed against your heaving bosom.

How it was still intact after you almost drowned remained a mystery, however.

The shrill serenade of crickets hidden amongst the swaying grass reverberated on your ears, along with the soft yet loud pulsing within your chest and your ragged breaths clawing their way past your lips.

You opened your eyes and you peered into the inky shadows cloaking the forest, watching as the undulating branches danced and writhed in the pale moonlight.

The moon shone like polished pewter hanging heavy in the night sky, its pale glow casting the place in shades of silver. You sat on top of a rock with your elbows placed on your bent thighs, cupping your chin in weary palms as you gazed upward, drinking in the silvery glow of the moon that spilled across the darkened earth.

Moments like this brought bittersweet memories flooding back.

You recalled stolen nights with Ataraxia—Sneaking away from the empire and going down to Shaxilu to stargaze.

You missed how her silken hair would flow over your skin as you cradled each other, chatting and chuckling while naming constellations with breathy whispers

In those past evenings, Ataraxia would lay her head in your lap, finger-painting stories in the glittering sky as you watched, transfixed not by the heavenly wonders but the terrestrial beauty that you would always see in her eyes.

She was lost staring at the stars above...while You’re lost staring at the stars that you would see in her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged your fingers through your hair, just wanting to go back to her, just wanting to feel her lips on yours, feel her touch.

But then, how could you return there, when you’re stuck here on earth?

You find yourself trapped in a realm of ambiguity.

How are you supposed to go back to nebula?

It dawns on you that you are forbidden from returning to the celestial sanctuary of the nebula, after all.

You were Exiled.

A surge of frustration erupts within you, and a groan bubbles up your throat.

Why the fuck did you have to get such a cruel father? It was so unfair, so, so, so unfair.

While others may envy your lineage—for having the creator of the universe as your father, for you, it is a harrowing nightmare from which you cannot awaken.

To them, aionarch may be a deity to worship, a deity to fear and respect, but to you, he is a tyrant to despise.

The loathing you nurture towards aionarch simmers within you.

The bitterness rages within you as you recall the pain he inflicted upon not only you but also your mother—the way he hurts her, the way he hurts you , as if you weren’t his child, as if xeranthi wasn’t his wife. 

A of hatred burns hot within your chest.

Why must your paternal lineage be marred by such malevolence? Why must your father be so callous, so devoid of compassion?

Surely, a father’s love should be a beacon of compassion and guidance, not a shroud of cruelty and desolation, right?

The notion that paternal love should be unconditional feels like a distant myth, a fantasy beyond your grasp. 

These thoughts churn within you, and you felt getting more, and more agitated as time passes by.

You rubbed your throbbing temples, just wanting the incessant ache to subside as you forced your mind to go back to the present dilemma—and not focus on aionarch’s bullshit.

Loathing aionarch would avail you nothing after all, and focus was imperative—as you needed to make a plan, a plan to go back to nebula and find ataraxia.

You were sure that if you even managed to go back to Nebula, Aionarch would kill you, yet, you didn’t care. Ataraxia was more important.

 Focus was key—you needed to devise a plan to return to nebula, to find your beloved Ataraxia.

Ataraxia is in danger, or maybe even dead...

The thought sent a twisting ache through your guts, knotting your insides as your throat constricted painfully. Images of her harmed or worse flooded your mind unbidden, each more gruesome than the last. You cursed your own vulnerability, your lack of power in this scenario. All you could do was hope, hope with every fiber of your being, that Fate had seen fit to spare her.

Have trust in her, she’s strong and intelligent. you told yourself again.

You raked  your trembling fingers through your hair as you sighed deeply, mouth twitching down into a frown as your fingers curled slightly as you suddenly remembered another obligation that was suddenly smashed down on you.

You’re a single mother now.

How the hell could you face Ataraxia? How are you supposed to tell her that you’re now a single mother and you have no explanation to offer? Doubtless, ataraxia would assume the worst—that in a moment of weakness or worse yet deceit, you had laid with another.

You didn’t want that, because infidelity isn’t your forte. 

It sucks, really, because you don’t even know the father of your self proclaimed son.

A shaking hand rose unsteadily to the nape of your neck, kneading the taut muscles that was locked, yet it provided no respite from the conflicted feelings that was raging within you.

You were so lost in your thoughts, and time itself ceased to have meaning. How long you’d lingered on the frigid ground again?

You just sat there, staring at the moon.

How had it come to this, you wondered. Why were you suddenly tasked with motherhood against your consent? Choso seemed resolute in claiming your connection, in claiming that he was your son.

And somehow, you believed it. Because his nature remained unclear, he wasn’t a human, and neither were you—so there’s a possibility that he was indeed your son.

Meanwhile, Your self-proclaimed son—Choso was beside you as you contemplated on your life choices.

Choso sat silently, idly dragging a stray twig through the sandy earth. His boredom was palpable, though his gaze occasionally flickered in your direction, scrutinizing for any sign of you retaliating or running away—After all, he can’t have you running from your obligation as his mother now, can you?

There was a palpable tension in the air as the two of you perched upon the rugged rock.

The silence was suffocatingly deafening—for it wasn’t the serene quietude, but rather an uneasy stillness that seemed to seep into the very crevices of the place.

Choso’s gaze was fixed on the earth beneath him, the tip of a stick tracing aimless patterns in the dirt, etching out random letters that held no meaning. 

Choso couldn’t fathom why you appeared so distraught—Why you looked so upset and agitated and a pang of guilt tugged at his heartstrings. Was it his presence that caused your distraught, leading you to sulk?

A fleeting frown crossed Choso’s lips. Is it because of him that you’re upset or something? He just wants you to let you know that you have a son, and not have you getting all depressed right here and then.

What had transpired to render you so distant, as though he were a stranger? Why do you gaze at him with a disorientated gaze—as though you don’t know him?

“Hey...” Your muted voice floated on the breeze, taking Choso’s attention as his ebony tresses swayed in the wind. Turning his head in uour direction,  his gaze fell upon your crestfallen mien—your eyes downcast and avoiding his probing stare

“Yes?” he asked, watching as you finally looked at him, noting the pensive furrow of your brow and the piercing gaze that you were giving him.

 “...you said that you’re my child, right?” Doubt laced your query as a thought took root—if it was true—that he was your son, then why did he stand before you fully grown? You were untouched, a maiden still, and your reason rebelled against what your eyes insisted was fact.

Maybe ataraxia got you pregnant unintentionally? No, no, that’s not possible, two women could not create new life no matter how fervent the affection is, and you haven’t done the deed yet.

Such things were fanciful impossibilities. 

“Yes,”  Choso said simply, though his reply did little to allay your turmoil—It was vague after all.

You frowned pensively as you took in Choso’s visage. Lines of strain etched themselves across his brow; a tightness pulled at the corners of his mouth. Shadows dusked beneath his downcast eyes. Had your words carried too much censure? 

Is it your fault? Were you so harsh? Is it because that you didn’t accept him as your son? Is it because you just won’t drop the subject?

Did he felt neglected by his mother or something?

You knew not how to be a mother, so how are you supposed to fulfill that role and not make him feel neglected? You were stressed too... Because if he really is your son, then why wasn’t he a baby at all, why is he a grown ass man?

The position strained you both, truly. Your chest constricted at the sight of choso’s solemn expression. Softly, you massaged your aching temples. Through dark lashes, you peered at Choso, taking in the stiff set of broad shoulders, fingers clenched white-knuckled in his lap. 

While you watched him with a pitiful gaze, Choso’s gaze remained downcast, tracing the purposeful march of dark ants amidst the dirt.

Choso was just wondering what would happen if he was born as an ant while you were busy there in your internal turmoil.

“Hey...”

A tentative breath escaped your lips as you mustered the courage to speak once more, the words delicately balanced on the tip of your tongue. “I’m sorry,”

you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you averted your gaze, your hand trembling slightly as it came to rest upon your lap. 

“I was just... overwhelmed by everything that’s happened,” you confessed, your fingers twisting anxiously in your lap.

“That’s why I’ve been so... agitated.. there’s just so many things that happened to me.. and I guess.. i kinda let my anger out on you...” 

The memory of Toji’s pungent aroma suddenly assaulted your senses, causing your nose to scrunch in a grimace as you fought to push the unpleasant recollection aside. 

Out of anything, why did you have to remember that little shit?

You sighed.

“I’m so sorry for being so harsh..”

You paused, your gaze searching his face, hoping to gauge his reaction, to discern whether your apology had been accepted or if the rift between your non-existent bond remained unhealed.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, the words laced with a heavy sigh as your fingers curled into your palms, the knuckles turning white with the tension. Choso arched a single,  eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, his deep voice tinged with puzzlement. Were you feeling remorseful for some reason he couldn’t discern?

You bit your lower lip, the soft flesh catching between your teeth as you contemplated your response.

“Because of my harshness,” you murmured, your gaze dropping to the floor.

“I may have... unintentionally, of course... offended you.”

The words felt thick and heavy on your tongue, as if your very breath struggled to form them. Choso hummed, a low, contemplative sound that reverberated in his chest.

He couldn’t help but note the shift in your demeanor, the way your once-brash and snappish attitude had given way to a more gentle, solemn air. Had you finally come to terms with the fact that he had bested you in your previous arguments? Even better, did you finally accepted that he was your son? Fantastic, indeed.

Scooting closer to you, Choso reached out, his long fingers gently brushing against the back of your hand.

“You didn’t offend me,” he assured, his voice soft and soothing.

“There’s no need to apologize.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting his.

“I... I suppose that it’s okay then... But still, i’m sorry...” you said, your words hesitant and uncertain.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of peace had come, it was gone, and you were back to your old self, your brow furrowing as you fixed Choso with a pointed stare.

“But you do realize that you can’t be my son, don't you?” you asked.

Choso’s eye twitched, and he resisted the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. There you go again, trying to stir up another argument. It seemed that this was a topic you two would never see eye to eye on.

Your fingers gently intertwined with his calloused hand, and you couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast in texture, not only that.. his hands seemed to have the same size of yours, yet it still fit snugly.

An involuntary frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you contemplated whether your stature had somehow diminished, for you were certain your palm would have dwarfed his own. After all, you were taller than him and his head were barely reaching your shoulder.

“I know I’ve already told you this countless times before, but...” You paused, your voice soft and measured as you prepared to broach the sensitive topic once more.

“My lover is a woman.” You paused, studying his features for any flicker of understanding

Pressing your lips into a tight, resolute line, you continued,

“And two women, as you’re aware, cannot conceive a child together.”Your gaze drifted downward, fingers tracing the weathered contours of his palm in a delicate, almost reverent caress.

“And... Ugh, how many times do i have to say this...? This is embarrassing...” you grumbled.

“I’m the embodiment of chastity.”

You mumbled, lifting your eyes to meet his, a silent plea resonated within your gaze.

“And besides, we should simply just drop this and accept the fact that you’re not my son. Ataraxia might grow upset and assume I’ve been unfaithful and that i’m cheating on her.” Your words were laced with a soft desperation.

“And i don’t want that...”

“Please?” 

Choso scoffed, his brow furrowing as he pressed his palm against his temple, the other hand still enveloped in your grasp.

”Just... accept it,” he murmured, his voice tinged with exasperation.

“You still have my brother nestled within your womb.”

The very mention of that fact caused a knot of dread to coil in the pit of your stomach, His brother remained nestled safely within your womb. How could you forget the life growing within? How could you have forgotten, even for a moment, the life that now thrummed within you—the life that had been so unexpectedly, inexplicably conceived?

...

Now ataraxia had more reason to believe that you cheated because you were technically pregnant!

You released your hold on his hand, fingers trembling slightly as you raked them through your hair, the strands catching and snagging against your skin, and nails scraping across your scalp in agitation. 

“How did this even happen?” you breathed, the words barely audible as you watched Choso press his palm reverently against your tummy, fingers splayed as if listening.

“Can you not hear it?” he murmured, his expression calm and collectedness.

“Hear what?”

“The heartbeat of Noranso.” You felt your eyes widen in shock, jaw dropping open as you stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Flummoxed, you gaped at him as you spoke.

“Tangina Choso... Don’t tell me that..” The words tumbled from your lips, colored with disbelief.

You felt a bubbling surge of annoyance boil within your core, because if you were to give birth to that random child that randomly popped in your tummy then you would’ve named it ‘destroyer of the land and mountains’

You grimaced, founding the name that choso had given his brother kinda weird, and you were acting as if the name that you would give it wasn’t any weirder.

But To be honest? if choso didn’t have a name, then you would’ve had named him “armpit munchies” or “squishy toe nails.”

“... you named it?”

Choso merely shrugged, stepping back from you with a nonchalant air.

“No, that’s his name,” he replied vaguely, leaving you to gape at his retreating form, a thousand questions swirling in your mind.

His explanation provided little clarity to your muddled psyche. Brow furrowed, glancing between him and your stomach curiously. Finally, words tumbled forth quietly

“It has a name.” You repeated, baffled.

“I.. i see..”

“Do you all have your names chosen even before the...” you paused, brow furrowing as you struggled to find the right words,

“the sperm race?”

Choso merely shook his head, seeming equally perplexed.

“I don’t recall joining a race.” choso murmured.

“What’s a sperm?”

Waves of discomfort washed over you as you stared at Choso with a perplexed gaze, your fingers instinctively massaging the tense muscles at the base of your neck. How could this man before you, with all the trappings of adulthood, be utterly ignorant of the most fundamental aspects of human biology? You found yourself bewildered, your brow furrowing as you struggled to comprehend the sheer depth of his naivety. 

“You don’t know what a sperm is?” The words tumbled from your lips, laced with a mixture of incredulity and pity. Your eyes searched Choso's face, wondering if perhaps he was some sort of savant, what if he’s actually a baby trapped in a man’s body? 

“Er, well... it’s a small creature,” you began, the words catching in your throat as you grappled with the awkwardness of the situation.

“And, you know, it’s what men... release... on the female. And then, it leads to a baby or something.” You trailed off.

“Like during reproduction,” You added.

“You have those too” The words tumbled forth, a futile attempt to bridge the chasm of understanding that separated you. Choso’s expression remained flat.

“What do you mean?” His voice, devoid of any hint of emotion, only served to heighten your sense of unease.

“You have those too. Sperm. You have those.” You shook your head, the words tinged with a resigned exasperation.

“I don’t.” Choso asserted, shaking his head in a way that made your eye twitch involuntarily.

“But you do,” you replied, unable to contain your exasperation as you facepalmed.

“Beneath those clothes, you have a dick. It’s the thing between your legs, the flesh thing. And then you have balls, they’re connected to the dick and your sperm is inside of your balls.”

Your brusque, vulgar manner of explaining the process confused choso, you cringed internally as you realized how embarrassing and blunt your words is. Leaning forward, you extended a lone digit, pressing the tip firmly against the juncture of his thighs.

“Here.” you said.

Choso’s brow arched in bewilderment, his calloused palm slowly trailing downward to tentatively graze the area you had indicated.

“Here?” he questioned, his tone laced with uncertainty.

You offered a curt nod of affirmation.

“Yes, precisely there.” A long-suffering sigh escaped your lips as you watched his exploration.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Punyeta, choso, Anong kabobohan to?”

you lamented, the palm of your hand connecting sharply with your forehead in a gesture of pure exasperation.

Did this mirror the frustration Aionarch experienced while explaining the details of reproduction and the importance of restraint to your dumb ass? Was this the same impatience he felt when you struggled to grasp basic concepts?  Is this how he felt when he was teaching you what sex is and you can’t understand anything?

“I don’t know. But i don’t really know what you’re talking about.” Choso’s brow creased slightly as he tried to decipher your cryptic remarks.

“Are you truly aware that offspring gestate within the female womb, yet remain ignorant of the nature of the seed that initiates such creation?” you inquired with a hint of disbelief.

Choso emitted a dismissive snort. “Tsk.”

“Do i look like i care about that reproductive thing that you’re talking about?” Choso inquired, arching a sculpted brow with dubious sincerity. 

“Your words are too flowery ma, i can’t understand it.”

Choso responded, the honorific “ma” slipping unbidden from his tongue unconsciously. In all honesty, he could not muster the slightest interest in your diatribe and the meanings therein—Your speech simply dwarfed his capacity for comprehension.

“M-ma?” You sputtered in disbelief, your viscera twisted within your torso’s confines. Why the hell does he keep perceiving you as the mother who birthed him? You had already told him so many times before, Had his cognizance reshaped itself to see you thus? Jaw clenched taut, gut wrenched with turmoil, you met his steady gaze.

“What?” he asked, purple eyes narrowed to slits as irritation claimed dominion of mien and manner.

“Are you still insisting that i have that “dick” you were talking of?”

“i don’t have those.” he reiterated adamantly.

You exhaled deeply, pressing your fingertips to your temples as sheer vexation overtook you. It seemed this Choso was intent on persisting in his fanciful notion of you as his mothe, huh?

Though you strove for patience, his constant invocations of that diminutive designation only served to stoke the flames of irritation within you. 

You know that this might just fuel his delusion but you still spoke.

“If you’re really my son then you’ll have those.”

you remarked, exasperation sharpening your tongue as you pointed on his torso. Directing his gaze downwards, you noted the minute tensing of his brows as thoughtful consideration replaced that look of misguided familial bonding. Silently, he pondered your implication, tracing where your suggestive gesture indicated—his midsection bereft of the corporeal signs one might expect finding to see a true blood relation. 

“Why do you keep pointing at my midriff?, there’s nothing here.”

“I know that i’m right. You should just look for yourself, see if you’re right.” he mumbled incomprehensibly. 

“Okay.” You said flatly.

Your fingers grasped the fabric of his vest, the coarse material rough against your skin as you tugged him closer. With a sharp tug, you lifted the garment, revealing the taut, chiseled planes of his abdomen. His breath hitched suddenly, not expecting that.

“So?” He breathes out.

“It’s under here.” you murmured, your voice low and lilting as your hand drifted downward, tracing the line of the black, silk-like sash cinched around his hips. With deft movements, you began to untie the  knot, your fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his trousers as you tugged it.

“Here?” He asked, and choso blinked as he suddenly felt blood rushing down there.

What the hell is happening? He could feel something stiffening, but he just couldn’t pinpoint what it is...

“You look like you’re living in an another person’s body, you know?”  you murmured, your eyes gravitating upwards to meet his. Choso’s gaze wandered, his mind occupied with a myriad of thoughts, his body tensing uncomfortably in response. The alien sensation of his new body still lingered, a mere twenty days into this unfamiliar vessel. A body bestowed upon him by a mysterious stranger, a doppelganger of yourself in every aspect—from the matching lips to the identical eyes, skin tone, and hair.

The resemblance between you two was uncanny, eerie in its precision.

But the personalities and the voice is different though.

Unease shadowed his  features, amethyst  eyes brooding, thoughts no doubt wandering to that fateful encounter only days past when first he’d been gifted with animated flesh.

Your voice broke him out of his reverie.

“I am not well-versed in the anatomy of males,  But i guess I’ll just indulge you in from what I've read in my books,” you stated with a trace of bitterness, recalling the arduous task of having to study that 50 books with long ass pages for no reason at all.

 “Maybe we should start with your upper physique?” you suggested with innocent curiosity, your words laced with a hint of uncertainty.

Your delicate hands slowly roamed his firm physique, lingering in certain spots as if mapping every contour with her touch alone. A visible shiver coursed through his body at the first caress upon his bare chest. “So here,” You began, pressing your soft palms fully against his pecs,

“lies your thoracic cavity.”

He gazed down intently at your hands exploring his form, too confused to fully comprehend your anatomical lesson.

“What’s a thoracic cavity?” He questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s your chest. It’s a complex chamber nestled within your chest, safeguarding the vital organs necessary for sustaining life,” you explained, noting how he tilted his head slightly as he delicately removed your fingers from his cloth. With a meticulous gesture, he adjusted the fabric and lifted it up higher granting you an enhanced view of his upper body.

“You mean, the things that are essential for living?” he murmured in wonderment.

“Yeah.” you affirmed with a nod.

“Hmm... Intriguing,” he mused, mentally marking the importance of this knowledge.

 His gaze then wandered towards your own chest.

“Why does your chest look like that? It’s different from mine.” he inquired, leaving you momentarily speechless.

You gawked.

“Putanginang lalake to... Choso, don’t ask questions like that! It’s uncomfortable and weird.” You sighed.

“Look me in the eyes, not my chest,” you instructed, a hint of exasperation lacing your words as he acquiesced with a nod, seemingly unaware of his lapse in etiquette.

You cleared your throat, hoping to get rid of the awkward atmosphere.

“So... Back to what i was saying.”

“There’s organs in here and they’re essential for your living. It's divided into three main parts, right pleural cavity, left pleural cavity and mediastinum. And the five organs in your thoracic cavity are your heart, lungs, esophagus, trachea and thymus.”

“There’s bones in here too, like your ribs and the sternum.”

“This one’s your sternum,” You mumble, tracing the arch of his sternum before dipping lower 

“And this one’s your ribcage.”

Your fingers delicately glided across the solid ridges of his rib cage.

Sliding lower still, the tips of your fingers grazed his taut stomach.

“The abdomen...” you comtinued,

“The abdomen contains many vital organs: the stomach, the small intestine, the large intestine, the liver, the spleen, the gallbladder, the pancreas, the bladder, and many blood vessels.”

“And here, your groin”  Your fingers dipped under his waistband and you were about to take it off until a distorted sound reached your ears, a warped and twisted echo that set your nerves on edge.

“Mommyyy” it crooned, and you froze, choso stiffening beside you as you both snapped your gaze toward the source.

There, emerging from the shadows, a giant, fat, purple worm with an ugly and contorted face. The same creature you had once shapeshifted into.

“Mommy H​​​​​​ug me”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐍𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The miasmic scent of blood flooded Xeranthi’s senses as she gingerly sat upon her husband’s lap. Aionarch’s hand massaged her lacerated flesh. Stiffening against the forthcoming anguish, she steeled herself to absorb his ministrations without compromise of façade. 

The woman’s ravaged flesh contracted in pain as pale slender fingers traced over her fresh lashes, reopening the barely sealed wounds.

Xeranthi’s flesh constricts as his fingers delved deeply into the crimson gash, parting the freshly torn skin with delicate precision. Her muscles and sinews writhed beneath his probing touch, the contractile tissue recoiling from the painful intrusion. Ichor fluid welled and spilled anew with each probing motion, and it dripped down his fingers like midnight liquid, painting his fingers a grim ichor.

Each brush of contact sent tendrils of white-hot agony lancing through her battered form, her stomach roiling with a fresh wave of nauseating pain—and she wanted to vomit so bad.

Aionarch methodically traced the wound’s edge, his glowing touch bringing tentative relief—That xeranthi very much didn’t appreciated. Her taut fibers slowly drew closed once more beneath his healing caress, though, the residual soreness remained.

The whip that they used kn her was excruciatingly painful, a nefarious device of torture forged from a dragon's scaly tail. Each serrated barb along its rippling length was painful, and each sharp tooth that lined the whip’s gangrenous tongue was carved from the fossilized scales of some bygone beast, and Xeranthi could feel her senses reeling as she remembered the obsidian talons buried deep within her back, rending sinews and splitting her skin. 

She hissed in irritation as his head nestled intimately at her nape. His fingers drifted now across her marred back, cataloging each cruel mark left by the  kiss. Over raised welts and gouges his hands roamed, tracing the ribs laid bare through her broken flesh.

Her form shivered violently at the fresh stimulus to such tender wounds, irritation and anger writting clear upon her trembling limbs. Still he persisted, tending injuries both evident and deeper still, his moist exhalations but another torment upon her skin already flayed. Slowly, gradually, underneath his ministrations the ravages began to fade.

Even in supposed gentleness her sadistic lord inflicted new torments too. Though his touch now soothed rather than seared, memories of past cruelties clung to her like parasites, burrowing their tendrils deep into her psyche.

“you’ve been quiet for quite a while now,”

Aionarch said quietly, though a hint of irritation colored his tone. This wasn’t the reaction he envisioned from Xeranthi after taking her away from that dreadful place. 

Despite his efforts to mend her wounds, an undercurrent of ingratitude lingered like a bitter aftertaste.

Such an ungrateful wife she is, no wonder that their daughter is ungrateful too.

“And what would you have me say?” 

Xeranthi jaw sets like stone as she let out a derisive grunt.

“Want me to thank you for your oh so called graceful mercy? Want me to thank you and act like you’re my savior when you’re the reason why i’m there in the first place?”

Aionarch grasped her chin roughly, his nails digging crescents into her flesh as he forced her gaze to meet his own.

“Ah? It seems the apple falls not far from the tree,” he murmured. “I think I know from whence our daughter’s foolishness stems,”

He breathed, the scent of wine upon his breath.

“So you’ve finally recognized your own reflection?”

Xeranthi’s lips curled into a wry smile, though no mirth touched her eyes. “So you finally admit she inherits her dull wit from you?”

Pausing, Aionarch considered her retort before throwing back his head and laughing, though the sound held no joy.

“Nay, ‘Tis from you, wife.”

 Aionarch hesitated, brow furrowing, then laughed sharply. “No, she gets her foolishness from you.”

“She has your features, your genes,” Xeranthi countered. 

“And she has your intellect, or lack thereof.

Aionarch’s fingers clenched tighter, his nails breaking skin, still Xeranthi would not flinch or cry out, meeting his gaze with defiance.

“You are cute Weiveiun,” He says with a chuckle.

Xeranthi narrowed her eyes as his icy gaze bored into her, pale ichor dripping slowly from vicious half-moon gouges in her skin where his nails still dug. Though her flesh stung in pain, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.  

Dark lashes fluttered shut to block out his soulless stare, though it did nothing to halt the onslaught of memories assaulting her mind.

“What  did you do to my soryuleitha?”

“I know that you wouldn’t bring her up unless you did something.”

Aionarch hums as he traced a thumb along her jaw, smearing the iridescent blood across her cheek in a gruesome caress.  

“What do you think?” He asks.

“I discovered that our daughter has become enamored with a woman,” the deity sighed languidly, and Xeranthi remained stock-still as her eyes grew wide with horror and dismay. No... surely Aionarch has not uncovered your secret attraction to the fairer sex? Xeranthi swallowed painfully, hoping beyond hope that you remains unscathed, for she knows all too well how cruel Aionarch can be, and how fiercely he despises any bond of intimacy that deviates from his narrow conception of propriety. And it was especially grievous, for it concerned you. 

“You’ve hurt her...” Xeranthi said in icy tones and Aionarch hummed dismissively, feeling some subterranean forces suddenly surging forth from nowhere to pierce through him, but they dissipated impotently as he dispersed them with a negligent flick of his hand. 

“Indeed, I did,” Aionarch replied coldly, without an ounce of remorse, not even caring about xeranthi’s pathetic attempt to hurt him.

 Drawing a shuttered breath, Xeranthi stated grimly, “You should’ve just killed her.” She said coldly.

“And not hurt her.”

“You hurt her so grievously because you are consumed by envy of her lover, isn’t it?” Xeranthi murmured pensively, and for a split-second, Aionarch’s eyes widened in surprise at her perceptiveness before he threw his head back and laughed hollowly.

“Clever girl,” he purred, pressing his lips to Xeranthi’s cheek in a mockery of affection, which caused the goddess to recoil inwardly from his defiling touch.

“Since when did you know, hm?” Aionarch asks, and Xeranthi’s gaze slowly drifted downwards, her eyes avoiding his penetrating stare. How did she know? Through her stealthy observations over many years. Ever since you were a mere babe, it had seemed to Xeranthi that Aionarch was utterly obsessed with you, obsessed with sculpting you into some ideal of perfection, obsessed with isolating you from all others until you belonged only to him. None dare speak to him in such a casual, informal way without meeting a ghastly end, and yet with you he was strangely tender, affectionate even.

And that was not all—Aionarch kept a close, watchful guard over your purity as well, as if you were his private treasure. These things had whispered to Xeranthi’s intuition for longer than she could recall, leaving an uneasy sense of foreboding within her.

“Ever since she was a child,”

“I see the way you look at her.” Xeranthi murmured through clenched teeth, each word sharp enough to draw blood. Her fingernails dug half-moons into her palms as barely contained rage coursed through her veins.

“The way you so readily forgive her transgressions, as if she hung the very stars in the sky.”

Aionarch merely hummed in noncommittal acknowledgement, yet the icy disdain miring his eyes belied the uncaring facade he attempted to project.

“True, I harbor no love for you,” he conceded with a frigid smile that raised hackles along Xeranthi's neck.

“But i do care for you. Do I not provide for your needs? Have I not elevated your status above all others?”

She sneered mirthlessly.

“Spare me your falsehoods and justifications. I am no fool, no matter how you may seek to paint me as such. I know well that you used me—my body, my name—for no other purpose than so you could have a child because apparently, i’m the prettiest goddess blah blah blah, bullshit like that. Like i give a damn if you elevated my status”

“Watch your insolent tongue, woman, lest you regret the consequences.” 

Xeranthi barked a harsh, derisive laugh.

“The truth wounds, does it? That I see clearly what lies beneath your genteel ravings? She looks like you,” she spat venomously,

“and so you mistake your narcissism for love. You like her because she looks like you, she spits your image.”

“Your feelings for [Name] has never been platonic in the first place.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𑁍ࠬܓ━━𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒:

𝟎𝟎𝟏. [Name]’s stomach is starting to digest Choso’s Brother.

𝟎𝟎𝟐. Xeranthi knows about [Name] and Ataraxia.

𝟎𝟎𝟑. [Name] is the goddess of chastity, cause she was forced to live in Chastity by her father.

𝟎𝟎𝟒. Ataraxia heard the conversation between Aionarch and Xeranthi.

𝟎𝟎𝟓. The worm thinks that [Name] is its mommy too because yk? She once transformed into the worm and the worm scent is clinging onto her—so the worm assumed that she was its mommy.

𝟎𝟎𝟔. Choso wanted to ask about Ataraxia but refrained himself from doing so.

𝟎𝟎𝟕. Xeranthi wasn’t bothered by aionarch’s incestuous love cause it’s normal for them—since they’re deities and incest is normal in deities and they see nothing wrong with it.

𝟎𝟎𝟖. The person that gave choso his body was said that they looked like Kamiseijin but it’s not really kamiseijin, neither was it aionarch.

𝟎𝟎𝟗. Aionarch didn’t killed ataraxia for a reason;)

𝟎𝟏𝟎. Aionarch only took Xeranthi away to share some information with Xeranthi cause he kinda expected that Xeranthi would recoil at the thought of [Name] liking a woman but got the opposite reaction instead cause Xeranthi supports her daughter no matter what.

𝟎𝟏𝟏. Choso once considered bashing your head. 

━━━━━

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐒:

𝟎𝟎𝟏​​​​. “Punyeta, anong kabobohan to choso” means “What the fuck kind of stupidity is this, Choso?”

Weiveiun means 

𝟎𝟎𝟐. Soryuleitha means “My sole happiness”

𝟎𝟎𝟑.​Weiveiun means “My darling”

𝟎𝟎𝟒. “Putang inang lalake to” means this fucking man...

━━━━━

🔪 || 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

━━━━━

╰┈➤ 𝟎%

—𝐒atoru has been thinking about you or whatever, and honestly? He’s getting a bit jealous of you because suguru has been focusing on tryna figure out what the actual fuck you are.

━━━━━

╰┈➤ 𝟏𝟎% 

—𝐒uguru saw ataraxia’s name on the necklace and now he’s assuming that your name is ataraxia<3.

━━━━━

╰┈➤ 𝟎%

—𝐓oji misses his worm already, please come back. He needs money.

━━━━━

╰┈➤ 𝟒% (𝐔𝐩 𝟐%)

—𝐒hoko, just like suguru, assumed that your name is ataraxia and now she’s doing loads of research in tryna find you.

━━━━━

╰┈➤ 𝟐𝟒% (𝐔𝐩 𝟒%)

—𝐂hoso is getting irritated by you. BUT, he’s jealous because a fucking worm just called you mommy! Like why is the worm stealing his mother? Choso was annoyed at that + he’s also annoyed at the fact that you kept on telling him about human reproduction or something like that, he’s getting uncomfortable with the topic + what are you even saying about his body or something? Choso has never really looked at his body or something like that, nor did he paid any mind in the details.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐔𝐓��𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:

okokok, so i’m not writing choso as an “innocent uwu” bullshit like that. Choso is not innocent in here and he’s just really curious about how the human body works, but that doesn’t mean that he’s innocent or something. He just trusts Kamiseijin and is quite comfortable with her, that’s why. + He’s literally thinking of killing [Name].

━━━━━

Shit’s bouta go down at chapter six:) just don’t mind my obsession with anatomy lmfao. This chapter is cringe af (everything is in my pov) dawg, i sprained my ankle and now i’m itching to hurt my mc again... But i just decided to give her this moment of peace because i’m gonna take it all away soon💓.... Mwhehe i was supposed to make her meet Toru and Sugu in her human form but i decided to just make them meet her at chap 7 cause (spoilers: there’s gonna be a fight in chapter 6)

━━━━━

LOL THIS BULLSHIT BECAME A SCIENCE LESSON INSTEAD OF A JJK FUCKIN' FANFIC LMAOOO SJHSHZJAJAK... And yeah... When i said that there’s gonna be incest in here... I meant that. BUT DON’T THINK THAT I CONDONE/NORMALIZE THAT BEHAVIOR IRL OKAY? incest isn’t okay and it’s illegal<3

━━━━━

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 3k

Rating: 18+ smut

Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.

This couldn’t keep happening!

Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.

What if something happened to him?!

What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...

You shook your head violently.

Stop thinking like this!

Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.

Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.

“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.

He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.

A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.

His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.

Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.

A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.

Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.

“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.

Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?

Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.

“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.

Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.

“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.

You nod, tightening your hold on him.

“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.

“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.

“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.

The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.

Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.

Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.

Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.

The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?

With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.

Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.

After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.

He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.

Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.

“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.

You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.

“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.

"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.

You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”

You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.

You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."

"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.

Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.

His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.

“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.

There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.

When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.

Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.

Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.

“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.

Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.

His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.

His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.

Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.

Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.

“What do you mean?” You ask confused.

He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.

Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.

Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.

“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.

He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.

“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.

Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.

Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”

You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.

Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.

Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.

Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.

“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.

Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.

Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.

His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.

“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.

His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.

You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.

‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.

Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.

“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.

Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.

“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.

You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.

His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.

Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.

Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.

“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.

Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he

enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.

The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.

You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.

Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.

Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.

Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.

Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.

“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.

There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.

After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.

“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.

“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.

“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.

From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.

“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”

“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.

You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.

Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

🅒 All rights reserved

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 3.5 | Moment of Respite

Synopsis: In which Bajie kindly gives you some time alone with the Destined One. An optional and indulgent chapter in this unapologetic take on you, the reader, accompanying the Destined One on his journey. 

Word Count: 3,129

Warnings: 18+/Explicit Content/Smut/N.S.F.W, Female Reader

Author’s Note: Though I say unapologetic, I am very much nervously sweating. I will soon find a nice rock to hide under. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snow covered landscape turned to dense forest once again. With Bajie now completing the trio of a group, any sort of affection you showed came sparingly. Whatever you could show comfortably in Bajie’s presence was quick and subtle. It didn’t take long for you to begin struggling with the confines of this restriction. As time went on you would do what you could to distract yourself, but more than once Bajie had caught you staring at the Young Sage. This made the Pig Guai pelt you with seeds while counting how many it took until you were broken from the spell. He had also begun to stack things on you, laughing when his pile would tumble once you were out of your daze. On his less patient days he’d purposely scare you back to reality by shouting loudly near your ear. Even while you were standing he’d find something to hop onto to do this. 

The Destined One wasn’t doing any better. He didn’t seem to fully understand why you were quicker to separate from him in the mornings before Bajie woke up. Sometimes he’d pull you close or try resting his head in your lap, however these moments were quick to end when you moved away after seeing Bajie approach. You saw how this annoyed the Destined One by the way his tail lashed back and forth behind him. Your little explanations didn’t stop that tail of his either. He had recently started to walk away from Bajie mid-conversation to see whatever unimportant task you were up to. This earned him plenty of choice words from Bajie. More often now you would see Bajie knock the Destined One on the head with the back of his rake when he caught his gaze wandering off. Needless to say, Bajie’s temper seemed to be getting shorter these days. 

Tonight, the Destined One had found a suitable cave to set up camp. The half-moon in the sky shined brightly as your group settled down for the night. It was an evening full of unfinished chores. You were doing what you could, having picked up sewing to mend various articles of clothing while the Destined One worked on crafting a new staff. You sat near the fire and worked by its light. Across from you, Bajie stood up and dusted himself off.

“A lovely night like this is meant to be enjoyed with alcohol,” he announced, brushing past you to pick up the spare bottles of brew. “I’m going to finish these off by the waterfall we passed earlier. Do not expect me until morning and do not expect I’ll be sober,” he said with a chuckle. You weren’t really paying attention. The thread wasn’t going through the needle and the dancing firelight wasn’t helping. 

“I said,” Bajie emphasized loudly right next to your ear, making you jump and drop the needle, “I am going and to not expect me till morning.” 

You moved garments aside trying to find the needle with eyes squinting in the firelight. “Yes, yes, we heard you the first time, Bajie. Did you want company?” 

“Not from either of you! I’ve had enough of the two of you to last me several lifetimes.” Bajie began walking down the path through the trees. “If a lovely lady passes by here, send her my way!” he called back. You heard him singing loudly as he walked away, his voice slowly receding until it disappeared in the regular hum of nature around you. 

Thankfully, you found your needle again and managed to successfully thread it. You worked quietly on patching up your clothes. The night was cool, the air was filled with the soft croaking of frogs and crickets in their tunes. The fire next to you crackled softly as you worked. A breeze rustled the trees surrounding your little camp. You paused for a moment to listen to the leaves flutter on their branches. Bajie was right, it was a lovely night. You glanced up and saw the Destined One taking apart an old staff to make anew. His gaze was concentrated, you watched for a moment as he extracted the needed materials. You returned to your own work feeling content. 

Being alone with the Destined One had you reminisce on the beginning of the journey. Unlike this comfortable silence, the silences then were awkward and prolonged. Small accidental touches had you apologizing or him stepping back. Though you pride yourself in reading what he means to convey at a glance now, you remembered those perplexing games of charades you used to play with him. Then there was the bathing spring incident. You inwardly cringed. Even with everything you’ve done with him till now, that moment still pulls you back to those same feelings of panic and embarrassment. You shook your head, forcing the memory back to the corners of your mind. Then you felt your body stiffen as you finally realized: You were alone with the Destined One.

You felt a sudden sharp pain on your finger making you inhale through your teeth. You had accidentally poked yourself with the needle. The air around you moved, a pair of strong hands gently held yours open. The Destined One examined your finger closely. It was only a small dot on your index where the skin was barely broken. You looked at his face, his expression was full of focused concern. 

“I’m okay,” you said quietly, not even looking at your hands. He brushed his finger onto yours. Satisfied that you weren’t bleeding, he made to move away. You held onto his sleeve. 

“I-” You began to speak, then felt your mouth dry up. Embarrassment shot through you, quickening your heart and tying your tongue. How depraved were you that you’d jump at this opportunity the moment Bajie stepped away? Pretty depraved, you thought. 

“Could-” you stuttered, trying and failing once again to fully transfer incomplete thoughts from your mind to your mouth. You couldn’t find a way to say you wanted to touch him without sounding perverse. The Destined One looked closely at you. He reached his hand up to brush strands of your hair aside, fishing out a stray leaf. His hand traced along your face, lingering on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his. You then turned your face to brush your lips against his palm. Usually, this action alone was enough to have him lead the rest of the way, but he made no motion. He simply looked at you with a shadow of amusement on his features. He slowly moved his hand to your chin where he tilted your head upwards to look him in the eyes. This damn monkey. 

As if reading your thoughts, you saw the corner of his lips twitch. You glared at him. He gave an innocent tilt of his head. You could so easily read what he was saying as if he’d whispered it into your ear. All you needed to do was ask.

“Could you please-” you started again, your breath hitching as he brushed his knuckles against the heat of your cheeks. You stared into his eyes. That same look of kindness, that same boundless patience, and something else. Something ravenous, waiting just beneath the surface. You just barely managed to whisper out the next words, “Touch me…” 

The Destined One looked more than pleased as he leaned forward. His lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. His warmth always seemed to envelope you. How long has it been since he’d touched you like this? How long have you wanted this? How long have you needed this? Long enough to know that this wasn’t even nearly enough. Your hands came up to his robe, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. You sealed your fate in this one bold move. This you knew: The Destined One wasn’t one to abandon something once started. Soon enough, he showed you just how famished he’d been. 

You felt his tongue greedily taste you as his hands traced your frame. You welcomed him to consume you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he sucked on your tongue. You moaned against his mouth as his hands trailed down to grope you in all the right places. He proceeded to lift you up as he trailed kisses and bites from your neck to your chest. He carried you easily into the cave where he held you against its walls. You stood there, your head thrown slightly back as he slowly descended down. His sharp nails snagged and tore at your clothes, still being careful not to push too hard into your soft flesh. 

You felt his hot breath on your chest. His tongue traced the area around your nipples, tasting you. You heard your cries echo in the cave when he began sucking on one while groping and flicking the other. The hand you held against your mouth did little to mask the sounds he pulled from you. He played with you until you were quivering in his hands. Satisfied, he continued trailing his tongue downward. He continued tearing at your clothes to make way for himself. By the time he was kneeling, your clothes were but scraps barely hanging onto your body. 

He slowed down, listening to your small whimpers as he slowly moved his hands up your legs. His nails softly scraped at your skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, painfully slowly, he made his way up to your thighs. He stopped just before he reached your entrance. Closing his eyes, he began planting slow, gentle kisses on your inner thighs. Then he opened his mouth and took a bite, making you cry out in surprise. You saw his tail flick behind him. He loved that sound you just made. He cruelly continued to do this, getting so close but never touching you where you wanted most. He took another bite which he licked once he let go. While holding your legs apart, he looked up at you. This Gods damn monkey. Mischievous doesn’t even begin to describe him anymore. 

This was his revenge for all the times you’d pulled away from him before. Knowing he was depriving you on purpose made you stubbornly bite your lip. Yet simply seeing him stare up at you while he traced your inner thigh with his teeth already cracked something in you. Just as you knew what he was doing, he knew what you were thinking. Frustration coursed through your veins as the Destined One watched you in playful amusement. It was unfortunate, you were up against someone who’d never lost a battle. You saw him use his knuckles to hover ever so close to your folds. You watched as he pulled away, then spread out his fingers to show your fluids sticking and dripping down them. You outwardly cursed at him this time. The Destined One wasn't listening, he’d started licking his fingers. You felt your pride and shame crumbling down as you watched him. The last embers of your stubbornness were snuffed out by his tongue.

Your lips quivered as you breathed out your next words. “Please,” you begged, “Please…” Again, you saw that same pleased look on his face. He'd gotten just what he wanted. You threw your head back as his tongue tasted your entrance. You felt his breath pant against you as his hot tongue slid into your pussy. From everything he’d done, there was so much of you for him to hungrily lap up. Your hands went to the fur on his head, gripping them to steady and ground yourself from the stimulation. He pushed his tongue in further, making your grip tighten on him. You felt him slowly traced back to your clit, flicking his tongue against it. You flinched and buckled each time he did this. His tight grip on your thighs held you still as he greedily devoured you. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your shaking legs began to give out from under you. In response, the Destined One placed one leg over his shoulder. 

“Wait-” you cried out more in shock than command. He placed the other leg over too until your whole weight was fully supported by him. This new angle had him reaching deeper into you. With his hands on your waist and forearms resting on your thighs, he began sucking on your clit. You gasped then moaned uncontrollably loudly, pulling hard at his fur. Your twitching legs tried to come together but were held firmly in place by his immeasurable strength as he thoroughly ate you out. Your cries echoed back at you in the cave. You felt something build up, tightening inside of you. You cried out a string of curses as you came hard, your body twitching and convulsing against the cave wall. 

The Destined One slid his tongue against your pussy, lapping you up slowly as he helped you ride out your orgasm. When you settled down, he gently moved your legs from his shoulders. You leaned against the cave wall for support. Out of breath, you watched him wipe his mouth as he took off his robe to lay on the ground. In the dim light of the cave, you drank in the sight of his body. Your eyes stared at his muscles, his lean figure covered in fur, and the veins trailing from his arms to his hands. The Destined One helped you over to his robe where you laid down on your back. 

He hovered over you, admiring the absolute mess he’d made of you. He then went to your neck and started sucking on your skin, one hand reaching to pull down his pants. He tossed them aside. As you twitched below him you felt the tip of his cock brush against your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself. You felt yourself pulsing in anticipation. Your hands went to his chest. You felt hard muscle beneath soft fur as you slid your hands down. You hear his breath catch when you brush along his lower abdomen. Your hands then went to his back where you slowly scraped and pulled at him. He shivered at your touch. As he continued to mark your skin, you felt him start to enter you slowly. You felt his tail wrap around your leg. One of his hands held yours, pinning you down to the ground. His other hand shot up to grip the cave wall. As eased into your soaked pussy, you heard the sound of something cracking above you. 

You let out a low moan as he went deeper, stretching you out, until you had taken him fully. You felt yourself tighten around him as he let out a sigh. Again, you heard that same cracking noise above you, like stones scraping together. He began moving slowly, cautious of you adapting to his size. Your breath was coming up short again. When he quickened his pace, you could not stop the sounds that erupted from you. The Destined One’s breathing was heavy and labored in your ear. You heard more cracking from above as he let out a low, husky moan. You clawed at his back, making him snarl. He let go of the cave wall, scraping his nails down your back as he gripped your hips, digging deeply into your skin. You cried out, arching into him, your chest meeting his as his thrusts came harder. You could only whimper and moan as he pulled you in by your hips to meet each of his thrusts. Growling in your ear, he pulled back, then slammed into you hard. You choked out another cry which became mewling whimpers as he fucked you harder. You were begging for him, but the sounds were indiscernible to your ears. The cave walls had you deafened by your own voice drenched in ecstasy and the sounds of his body slamming into yours. 

You felt yourself tighten up, that same peaking feeling getting closer. Moaning fully into his ear you came again, twitching hard as your pussy tightened around his cock. His thrusts quickened, becoming frantic, desperate. You felt him bite down hard into your shoulder as he came in you. Both his teeth and nails dug deep enough to draw blood, but the pain felt delicious as he twitched and filled you. 

For a moment he stayed still, breathing heavily, then he let go of your shoulder and pulled out of you. His hand unlatched itself from your hip, he moved his arm up to support his weight. The other hand was still firmly holding your own. Both of you were still out of breath as he closed his eyes to rest his head against yours. You reached up to hold his face, giving him a tender kiss. He returned the kiss as you wrapped your arm around his neck. He pulled you up slowly, delicately. You closed your eyes as he carried you out of the cave.

~

In the morning, Bajie returned the way he’d left: singing. True to his word he held many empty jars of drink and walked like a sailor towards where you and the Destined One were having breakfast. Before he’d made it to you two, however, Bajie face-planted into the ground. You heard the distinct sound of him snoring as a jar rolled towards you. The Destined One stood up to carry Bajie over to the light bedding you’d prepared for him. 

The Young Sage then returned to you and pulled you into his lap. The Destined One wrapped his arms around you, tail pleasantly thumping the ground. You leaned into him, feeling your sore body ache. Your clothes just barely hid the bruises and bites he’d left all over your neck and chest. The bite on your shoulder along with the scratches down your back and hips still stung. He’d done well to help tend and clean you up last night. He was initially a bit worried at the wounds you sustained, but you reassured him that he hadn’t hurt you in any way you didn’t want him to. He seemed quite happy to trace over the various marks he’d left on your body afterwards. 

You were glad to take a day off from traveling today. The Destined One still had a staff to remake and you had more clothing to repair. Yes, both were quite reasonable explanations to validate this moment of respite. That and how your legs were fully out of commission. You kept your eyes away from the mound of rock and stone behind the two of you. You hoped that by the time you were on the road again Bajie would be too hungover to ask what happened to the cave. 

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me? - Ch. 5

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake and Y/N take their kids to say goodbye to a friend, but it goes as well as one can expect. The Seresins also learn what the next course of action is for Ella's treatment.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: medical inaccuracies, childhood cancer, death, funerals, cursing, traumatic events, fighting, slut shaming, mentions of cheating.

Jake could remember the first funeral he ever went to. He was six, not much older than Ella is now, and it was for his grandfather. His mother had dressed him up in a small black suit with a burnt orange tie, a nod towards his grandfather’s beloved Texas longhorns. His mother was dressed in a black dress and had a simple strand of pearls around her neck, the same as two of his sisters. His father was dressed similarly to Jake; black suit, orange tie. 

Jake could remember walking into the church, a place he had been to a thousand times over, but now it was covered in memorial flowers and people all dressed in black. Some of the ladies wore elegant hats with lace veils over their faces. The men all seemed to have cleaned their watches and dug out their alumni rings for the occasion. Jake’s father was stopped several times in the foyer by people giving him their condolences. Jake wasn’t sure why everyone was stopping in front of a long wooden box, the women walking away with tears in their eyes. 

“Come on,” Jolene said to her children, “Let’s go say goodbye to grandpa.” 

All Jake could do was nod as Jolene led them over to the wooden box at the front of the sanctuary. Jake froze about three feet from the box, his heart beating fast in his chest at the sight in front of him. He felt his hands grow clammy as Jolene turned around to look at her son, who looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“Jake?” Jolene asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“That’s not grandpa.” Jake shook his head, pointing towards the box, “That’s not him!” 

Jolene gave Jake a said smile, crouching down in front of him, “It is grandpa, Jake. It’s grandpa’s earth body. His spirit is up in heaven with Jesus.” 

“They messed him up,” Jake whispered, “That’s not him!” 

“How about we take a look?” Jolene pleaded with her son. Jake reluctantly nodded as Jolene stood to her full height and took his hand. Slowly they walked together to stand in front of the casket. 

Jake took one look in and turned his head. The body laying in the casket looked nothing like the man he remembered. His skin was pale, almost blue and waxy. His hair looked fake and as if they used way too much hairspray to get the combover to lay flat. It all just looked wrong to Jake. It was all just wrong. 

“That’s not him,” Jake shook his head as he sat down in the front row with his mother and waited for the service to begin. The whole time Jake kept repeating in his head that the man in the box was not his grandfather. 

Ever since that moment at six years old, Jake dreaded funerals. It was horrible, but Jake did all he could to avoid going to them. Y/N practically had to drag him to Tom Kazansky’s funeral, and even then, Jake took Alex to the nursery about half way through the service. It wasn’t that Jake was scared to bare his emotions and mourn the loss of a life. It was that he hated seeing the body lying all alone in the pinewood box. He hated knowing that their body was going to stay there for the rest of eternity until they rotted away into nothing. He hated knowing that the last glimpse of your loved one was going to be when the funeral director closed the lid. 

“Dad,” Alex’s soft voice filled the room. Jake was sitting on the bed, trying to come up with an excuse to not go to this funeral, “Can you help me with my tie?” 

“Sure,” Jake nodded, sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of Alex. Y/N had gotten them both matching forest green ties, “You look good.” 

“Thank you,” Alex nodded, scrunching his nose up to push his glasses up farther. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the small movement. No one was quite sure when Alex started doing that, but it was cute, “I asked Mommy to help me but Ella is sick.” 

Jake’s smile turned into a small frown, “I know. . . how are you feeling about this?” 

It wasn’t very often that Jake got to stop and have a conversation with Alex about everything that has gone on. Sure the boy was only seven, but he still had some idea of what was going on with his sister. Y/N and Jake’s worst fear was Alex and Eli feeling ignored during all of this. They made sure at least once a week they were taking the boys out to do something fun whether that was the arcade or the park. Eli was still too little to understand anything but Alex wasn’t. 

“I’m sad that Ella is sick,” Alex shrugged, “When will she be better?” 

“I don’t know, bud,” Jake sighed, “But what about not having mommy and daddy both here?” 

“Oh,” Alex looked down at the ground, “Well, I guess I’m kind of sad about it. I wish you could both be here, but someone has to stay with Ella.” 

Jake smiled at his son. He was as selfless as his mother, always thinking of others instead of himself, “You’re a good kid, you know that,” Alex nodded his head. Jake placed a kiss on his forehead, before standing to his full height. The two of them walked down the stairs together, finding Y/N and Ella waiting for them. They both wore black dresses and pearl necklaces, only Ella had a black hat on her head to keep her warm. 

“We gotta get going,” Y/N said, standing up from the couch. The two of them loaded the kids up in the car, but Jake hesitated once he shut the car door, “What is it?” 

“Do we both need to go?” Jake looked over at Y/N, “I can stay and watch-” 

“Eli is with Rooster, and yes,” Y/N nodded, “We both need to go. Miranda and Dominick became our friends and we need to support them. . . this could’ve been us.” 

Jake clenched his jaw and nodded. Y/N climbed into the truck without another word, and Jake followed. When they arrived at the church, Jake helped Y/N out of the truck, trying to put on a show of solidarity in front of the other couples from the hospital. Rumors had flown since their spat in the hallway, and most of the parents were ‘Team Y/N’. Y/N didn’t bother saying anything to Jake as she opened the door for the kids and took each of their hands in hers, forcing Jake to walk behind them. 

The vestibule of the church was exactly like Jake could remember the one his grandfather’s funeral was in. People dressed in black, flowers all over, pictures and videos of the deceased being played but no one paid any attention to. Y/N signed the guest book for all four of them, taking a bulletin before making her way into the sanctuary. 

“Remember what we talked about?” Y/N turned towards her kids, “We’re going to walk past Sammy’s body and-“ 

“No!” Ella cried, “I don’t wanna see him!” 

“Ella,” Y/N said quietly, “You don’t have to see Sammy, but we have to walk-” 

“No!” Ella shook her head, Jake placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to soothe her, “I don’t wanna!” 

 Y/N could feel all eyes being turned towards them and it made her skin heat up, “Baby, we have to walk by-“ 

“No!” Ella’s lip quivered as tears began to spill down her cheeks. Sobs racked her body as she hid her face in her hands, “I don’t wanna see him!” 

Jake picked her up, setting her on his hip, “It’s okay. You don’t have to.” 

“That’s not him!” Ella turned and hid her face into her father’s neck. Y/N felt out of options as Jake gave her a pleading look. She glanced around, noticing the stares and the looks they were gaining. 

“Okay,” She sighed in defeat, “We’ll go.” Jake nodded his head, and turned on his heel, taking his sobbing child out of the church. Y/N looked over to where Miranda and Dominick stood, giving them an apologetic look before following her family. She sighed as she climbed into the truck, leaning back into her seat. She glanced at her children through the rearview mirror; Alex staring at the raindrops sliding down the window and Ella with tears running down her cheeks. 

— — — 

Six weeks. 

It had been six weeks to the day since Y/N made the dumb mistake of falling into bed with her ex-husband. She had never been the one for casual hookups. Jake was her first everything and the most she ever let Miles do to her was go down on her. She had promised herself that she wasn’t going to be a woman who hooks up with her ex-husband out of convenience, but here she was, hooking up with her ex-husband out of convenience and currently watching him as he blatantly flirted with Becky, one of the mom’s in the therapy group. 

The styrofoam cup in Y/N’s hand was hot as she stared daggers at the blonde man, who was turning on his charm as he talked to Becky. The smile. The chuckle. The head tilt. The gentle hand on her arm when he walked away. It all angered Y/N. 

Hell, what didn’t anger Y/N these days. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he sauntered up to you, grabbing one of the glazed donuts on the table. 

‘Fuck you for eating that donut’ Y/N thought. She had always been amazed at Jake’s body and how he was able to eat nearly anything and everything he wanted. But now, it annoyed her. The stress from taking care of her sick child, her poorly timed eating schedule and not being able to go to the gym had their effects on Y/N and she had gained some weight. She hated looking at herself in the mirror and hated even more when Jake would sit and make sure she ate something substantial. 

“Hello?” Jake swiped his hand in front of his wife, earning him a glare. 

“Don’t wave your hand in my face,” She snapped. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “What’s going on? You seem out of it.” 

Y/N pursed her lips, debating on saying something or biting her tongue, “Becky got a boob job last summer with her divorce settlement.” Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her, “You like natural so I thought I’d give you a heads up.” She simply shrugged and walked away to find a chair in the center circle. 

Another thing Y/N didn’t want to say out loud was how much therapy had actually been helping her. She hadn’t said anything more than the bare minimum; who she was, what her child was diagnosed with, what the prognosis is, and a weekly update on how her child is doing. It was nothing more and nothing less than that every meeting. But Y/N did enjoy the adult interaction for an hour twice a week. She didn’t realize how much she missed being around people her own age, even if she couldn’t remember half the names of the people in the group. Jake had attended every meeting with her, sitting next to her and silently supporting her when she gave her opening statement. 

Jake sat down in his usual chair, in the middle of Y/N and Marjorie, the elderly lady who ran the therapy group. She reminded him of his grandmother, permed gray hair, bright pink lipstick on her lips, and she smelled like cherries and vanilla. She also had the slightest southern twang which Jake appreciated from time to time. Marjorie always had a large, leatherbound journal with her at every meeting which confused Jake. He never saw her take any notes, never saw her turn any pages. But the book was in her lap, open to some page at every meeting. 

“Good morning my beautiful caretakers,” Marjorie said, gathering the attention of the group. Y/N fought hard to not roll her eyes at the usual greeting, “Let us start with our daily openings. Jacob, how about you start?” 

“Oh, I’d love to, Marjorie,” Jake smiled at her and Y/N did, in fact, roll her eyes this time. 

Therapy droned on for another hour, as Y/N pretty much blocked out everything that anyone was saying. It was all the same, week after week. But what wasn’t the same, was the two open chairs next to her. It pained her as she glanced over to where Miranda and Dominick had sat just a few weeks ago. No one knew that Sammy had gotten so sick and was circling the drain. Miranda had sat there and told the group that Sammy was still fighting hard, that he was still continuing his treatment with a smile on his face. No one knew that in a few short days, Sammy would pass away in front of his parents. 

Y/N picked up her head and looked at the group of parents and guardians in front of her. She wondered how many of them were saying that their children were still strong and fighting when in reality, the grim reaper was knocking on their door. A sick feeling rose in her belly. The same sick feeling she had been feeling for the past week. 

“I know he’s going to keep-“ 

Y/N stood up quickly, cutting off Becky, who glared at her, “I’m sorry.” She muttered, turning for the door of the meeting room. She tried her best not to break out into a run, but she moved as quick as she possibly could. 

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her retreating form scamper out of the room like a fire was lit under her ass. He turned his head back towards Becky, watching as the crocodile tears streamed down her face. Sure, Jake felt bad her son had cancer, but he’s also been in remission for six weeks now and yet, Becky still comes in to hit on the dads. 

Yes, Jake is well aware that Becky flirts with him at any given chance. And yes, he knows that Y/N is jealous of that. Y/N has always been the type to wear her emotions on her face, and Jake can feel the daggers that she glares into his spine whenever he talks to Becky. He should tell her that there’s nothing to be jealous of, that she’s the only one he wants. But Jake is a guy. And sometimes those male like tendencies take over, especially when it comes to one Y/N Seresin. He never knew she could be so possessive and kinky until about six weeks ago. He swore that they’ve been having the best sex they’ve ever had. 

Y/N had returned by the time the meeting had concluded. Her eyes and nose were red, as if she had been crying. Jake’s green eyes tracked her as she moved around the room, going straight for the coffee pot. All the alarm bells were going off in his head, and his body moved without second thought. She had barely set the coffee pot down when Jake grabbed her elbow, dragging her away. 

“Hey! Let me go!” Y/N protested, pulling her arm free, “You heathen. I can walk on my own-“ 

“Are you pregnant?” 

It took Y/N a moment, as the words that left Jake’s mouth registered in her mind, “No. I’m not pregnant, you twat,” Jake felt the tension in his body relax for a moment, “I know I have gained weight, but I don’t need you pointing that out.” 

“Wait, no,” Jake shook his head, “I wasn’t pointing out that you gained weight, which, you look fantastic,” She scoffed, “It’s just that you’re drinking coffee and you never do unless you’re-” He gestured towards her stomach. 

“I’m not pregnant,” Y/N stated again, shoving the cup in his hand, “I’m going to check on Ella.” 

Y/N tried her best to keep her face neutral until she got into the elevator, her body nearly collapsing against the metal wall. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she reached into her pocket, pulling her phone out and looking at her calendar. The bright red circle around the date was almost mocking her as she breath caught in her throat. 

“No way,” She shook her head, “No fucking way.”

— — — 

“Take a deep breath. You’re okay,” The nurse spoke calmly as she ran her hand over Ella’s back, holding the oxygen mask to her face. It was the third time in the past week that Ella has had these attacks where she can’t breathe. 

“I can’t- I can’t,” Ella gasped, her big green eyes frantically looking around the room.

Y/N quickly moved towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed, “You can. Take a deep breath, Ella.” Ella sucked in as deep of a breath as her little lungs could, which resulted in her coughing. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears as her daughter coughed and gasped for air. 

“Y/N,” the nurse said to her, “Why don’t you go get some air. I got this.” 

Every fiber of her being was telling her to stay by Ella’s side, but she couldn’t watch for any longer. Ella looked up at her mom, giving her hand a light squeeze as if to tell her it was alright. The familiar burn of tears clogged her throat as she stood up from the bed. 

“Thank you,” Her voice was barely a whisper as she quickly made her exit out of the room. 

Y/N let out a sigh as she walked down the hallway, clenching and unclenching her shaky fists. The familiar grip of anxiety held her heart as stopped at the nurses’ station, placing her elbows on the counter and running her hands through her hair. Y/N couldn’t decide what was worse, watching her child get so violently ill that the blood vessels in her face broke or watching her gasp for precious air. She determined that both of them sucked. 

“Y/N,” Miles' voice sounded out. She looked up at him, expecting to see that warm, comforting smile, but instead was met with a grim look, “Doctor Thomas and I need to talk to you. . . both of you.” 

Jake had started to hate this office. He hated the bright posters on the wall and the stuffed animals on the couch behind him. As much as this office was trying to be a bright, cheerful place, it brought nothing but heartache and pain. The tension was thick as the two of them were trying to wrap their heads around what Doctor Thomas had just said. Jake’s eyes flitted over to Y/N who was staring at something on the desk in front of her. He so badly wanted to reach out and grab her hand. 

“The transplant list?” Her voice sounded out, sounding weak and farther away than the seat next to him, “She. . . you’re putting her on the transplant list?” 

Miles licked his lips before answering, “We think it’s the best course of action.” 

“What about the lobectomy?”

“The cancer will just come back,” Doctor Thomas said, “The only guaranteed way that the cancer will go away and stay away is if we do this transplant.” 

Y/N shook her head, trying to grasp what was really going on. She had called Jake almost as soon as Miles said he needed to talk to them both. Jake had left base like a bat out of hell, getting to the hospital in an amount of time that could only be done by speeding. They knew that one of the treatment options would have to be removing a portion of Ella’s lung. Y/N hated the idea of her child going under the knife to remove a portion of herself. 

“How long?” Y/N looked up at Miles, “How long do you think she’ll have to wait?” 

Both Miles and Doctor Thomas shifted in their seats. 

“Pediatric lungs are hard to come by,” Doctor Thomas spoke softly, “Finding a match can be even harder. It could be six weeks, could be six months. We don’t-” 

“Oh god,” Y/N closed her eyes, a sick feeling sinking her stomach, “We have to wait for another child to-” 

“Donor,” Doctor Thomas said, “We have to wait for a donor.” 

“A child,” Y/N snapped her eyes open and glared at the blonde woman in front of her, “We have to wait for another child to die to save our child.” 

“Well, if you think about it that-” 

“There is no other way to think about it!” Y/N’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the arms of the chair, “The only way our child can live is if another child dies!” 

Doctor Thomas looked over towards Jake, “I think it’s best if we-” 

“Don’t look at him,” Y/N sneered, “You are talking to me. There has to be another way. There has to be. . . Miles,” Y/N gave him a pleading look. 

“I’m sorry,” Miles said sincerely, “We have discussed this at length, getting second opinions from our pulmonary specialists and transplant specialists, we think this is the best course of action.” 

The office was quiet, as the words seemed to settle over Jake and Y/N. His heart was still pounding in his ears and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he understood what Miles and Doctor Thomas were saying. He got that Ella was sicker than they thought, and the original plan was no longer going to work. But still, Jake couldn’t really wrap his head around what was going on. 

“I know that this is hard to understand,” Doctor Thomas said, “And you’re having an emotional-” 

“Fuck you,” Y/N spat. Jake snapped his head towards his wife, “Fuck you,” She leaned forward, her eyes burning into Doctor Thomas, “You have no idea what kind of response I am having to hearing my child is dying and the only way to save her is to let another child die. You have no idea ‘cause you aren’t a mother. No,” She chuckled, “You’re just a slut who goes after married men.” 

“Y/N,” Jake finally spoke up. 

Doctor Thomas stood up from her chair. If she was insulted by Y/N’s words, she did a great job at hiding them as she rolled her shoulders back, “I think that is all for today. Miles will keep you updated on Ella’s status on the transplant list. Jake, Y/N,” Doctor Thomas nodded to them both, before she left the room. 

“I’ll let you guys have the room,” Miles said, following after Doctor Thomas. 

Silence reigned over the two of them, as Jake shifted in his chair to face his wife, “I know you’re upset, but that was uncalled for. Calling her a slut?” 

“She is,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face, “We were split up.” 

“We weren’t divorced yet,” She glared at him, “I atleast had the respect to wait until the ink had dried on the papers to go out and find someone. You. . . you were already chasing tail the moment I kicked you out. Hell, before I kicked you out.” 

“Okay,” Jake shook his head, “What is your fucking deal? Hm? This isn’t like you. I thought the group therapy was helping.” 

Y/N sighed, “It is.” And that was true. The group therapy was helping her mood for the most part. 

“Then what is going on?” Jake grabbed her hand, “I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me.” 

His eyes were full of sincerity and longing as he searched hers for a sign of what could be going on. Y/N used to be such an open book, but now it was getting harder and harder to read her, unless the emotion was anger. He missed the days where she would talk to him about anything and everything. It could be about something that pissed her off or something that made her smile.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as Y/N looked away from her ex. She felt stupid. She felt so incredibly stupid that this happened to her. Of all the times they had tried and tried and failed, this happened when they didn’t even want it to. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, “I’m late.” 

“Late?” Jake asked, confused. All she did was look at him and he realized what she was talking about, “You’re late.” He sat back in his chair, still holding her hand, “You’re late.”

taglist: @sio-ina-bottle @kmc1989 @soulmates8 @averyhotchner @fandom-life-12 @jazminlahey20 @jessicab1991 @reidshearts @princess76179 @dizzybee03 @dempy @kellyls04 @daddymack01 @beautifulandvoid @noonenuts @bradleybeachbabe @its-the-pilot @buckysteveloki-me @shibble @a-library-ofmy-own @fanfictionismyhobby @emilyoflanternhill @seitmai @moonlessnight14 @hardballoonlove @sgt-barnesveins @vhkdncu2ei8997 @1nterstellarcha0s @krispybearbouquet @buckystwilight @a-serene-place-to-be @seresinslady @na-ta-sh-aa @milestomaverick @itsmytimetoodream @topgunslut @yuckosworld @angelbabyange @pedrohoe04 @midnightmagpiemama @lynnevanss @ummjustfics @julybs @thegoddessc @mrsevans90 @mjsvinyl @luversgirl @silenthappyplace @buckysvinyl @fogle97

taglist form

[erisweekofficial]

Fanfic

One Year Later by @afandomangel 👑

Until I see you again by @mika-no-sekai-blog

Hold Me While You Wait by @fieldofdaisiies

Pull Me in Deeper Ch 17 by @zenkindoflove 👑

A Bond of Song & Flames (7 parts) by @sadiegirl2021

The Uncertainty of Spring by @daycourtofficial

Roots In My Dreamland by @lucienarcheron

Always An Angel, Never A God by @chairofchaos 👑

Lady Luck by @ginandtobacco 👑

Burning Red by @separatist-apologist

Love in the kennels by @readychilledwine

Fini by @/tessabeth 👑 (on ao3; post is from @pippsmcgee)

Cures by @littlest-w01f

Hold Me Tight by @mika-no-sekai-blog

Caress Me Down by @zenkindoflove

His Father's Son by @the-darkestminds

Burning Red Ch 2 by @separatist-apologist

Healing | Betrayal by @afandomangel

A Bond of Song & Flames by @sadiegirl2021

This ain't no love that's guiding me by @lovely-vanserra-sunshine

Carry You Home by @zenkindoflove

In the Shadows of War by @lucienarcheron

The Jewel of The Forest House by @zenkindoflove

Hold me While You Wait | Prologue by @fieldofdaisiies

Weak spot by @lady-of-tearshed

Burning Red by @separatist-apologist

a bond of song and flames by @sadiegirl2021

Smokehounds & Surprises by @lucienarcheron

Caught by @afandomangel

Birthday by @littlest-w01f

Moth to a Flame by @lucienarcheron

First Words by @afandomangel

Dawn Breaks Early by @avabrynne

A Court of Scales and Fire V by @azrielsshadows

Light the Fire Bright Chapter 7 by @clockwork-ashes

Tear the World Apart by @cressidagrey

Hold Me While You Wait Part 1 by @fieldofdaisiies

Hold by @littlest-w01f

Fanart

Eris x Alexius by @zenkindoflove

Eris and his mate by @/artbyellat (on instagram)

Eris Week OC Project: Estella by @queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Iris by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Ada by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Alexius by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Ashley by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Tilly by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Arina by queercontrarian

Eris Week OC Project: Lyra Castellan by queercontrarian

Eris x OC Project: Gianna by queercontrarian

Eris x OC Project: Aisling by queercontrarian

Erixius by @thrumugnyr

[freesia-writes]

Ch 8: Further Developments

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.4k

Author's Note: Perhaps this has been off to a bit of a slow start... but I would like to assure you that there is a fun bit of action coming shortly. ;)

Family dinners were one place where Hunter felt he could truly relax. Surrounded by the people he enjoyed most, safe and satisfied, it had a grounding effect and he held a deep gratitude for the weekly tradition. He leaned back in his chair, finishing the last of the juice he’d come to love since arriving. It was a local concoction of fruits and nuts, blended and pressed by hand through fine mesh, and had a rich, complex flavor that seemed both sweet and savory at the same time. In keeping with most of the naming conventions of the island, which included places like The Cobbles, Town Square, and The Forest, the locals had kept it very simple and straightforward, calling it Lo Juice officially while most people simply referred to it as Lo. 

“Thanks for saving this for me,” Hunter said to Phee, who had commented as she poured his glass that it was the last of their bottle, and she’d forbidden Tech from drinking it until family dinner. There was just enough for him, Hunter, and Omega, who all shared an affinity for it. 

“Sure thing,” she answered, casting a smug glance at Tech, who frowned in harmless exasperation. 

“It seems ridiculous that one cannot enjoy the beverage of choice in his own home simply due to the imminent arrival of a sibling who, in virtually every possible scenario, should have no problem procuring his own bottle of said beverage.”

“Thanks to you too, Tech,” Hunter said, lifting his empty glass in a toast. Tech shook his head, opting to change the subject. 

“This vegetable side dish you prepared was excellent. It is not within your usual realm of cooking. What inspired the new endeavor?”

“It was delicious,” Phee agreed, her thigh resting against Tech’s as he sat beside her – a minor yet meaningful form of physical touch that he appreciated. “Where’d you find this stuff?”

“Lyra gave them to us. From her garden,” Hunter answered, secretly pleased to see that the serving dish was scraped clean.

“Lyra, huh? And who might that be?” Phee tipped her head, regarding Hunter with a little too much scrutiny for his tastes.

“She works at the school. Omega enjoys talking to her, and she’s been helping her a lot with applications and internship stuff. She ran into me one morning when I was coming back from an empty hunt and sent them home with Omega later on… ‘so we wouldn’t go hungry’,” he echoed, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Huh. Well that was kind,” Phee remarked, eyes twinkling. “You should bring her next week.”

“What?” Hunter blurted out, noticeably quickly, “Why?”

Phee laughed at his response, shrugging her shoulders with nonchalance, “Why not?”

“I mean… She’s just some lady from school. She’s not family.”

“She could be,” Phee answered in an almost sing-song voice, taking great pleasure in Hunter’s mildly flustered appearance. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Sarge. She doesn’t have to be family – anyone’s welcome here. I mean, we put up with him…” she tilted her head toward Crosshair, who was distracted in conversation with Omega, and her humor effortlessly diffused the situation.

“How big is her garden?” asked Echo, who had tuned in from across the table.

“Is that a euphemism?” Tech asked pertly, earning a delighted chuckle from Echo, who shook his head as Hunter answered.

“No idea. Why?” 

“If she’s got a lot of this, it would be a great lunch at the training academy.”

“Are you providing lunch now?”

“No, but we could. Sell it for some credits.”

“You’d probably eat it all before anyone else got to touch it!” Wrecker accused, breaking into the back-and-forth.

“Yeah, because I eat sooo much,” Echo said dryly, eyeing the much bigger clone pointedly.

“Hey! I’ve got a fast metabolism!” Wrecker laughed, bumping Echo on the shoulder warmly and catching the attention of the others at the table. “And it’s not that you eat a lot, it’s that it’s too tasty to pass up!”

“The vegetables are delicious, but I think we really need to consider that it’s actually the excellent roasting technique that brings out their flavor,” Omega said, failing to suppress the mischievous grin bursting behind her tightly-pressed lips. 

“That’s right!” Wrecker joined in, “Otherwise they’d taste like dirt!”

“You’d probably still eat it,” came the slithering snark from the end, where Crosshair was reclining in his chair with his boots crossed on the corner of the table. 

“First of all,” said Phee, kicking his chair hard enough to jerk him sideways and bring his legs crashing to the ground, “Get your feet off my table. And secondly, leave the grump show at the door. What’s eating at you, anyway? I thought you were all happy about the observatory thing.”

“What observatory thing?” Omega echoed, eyes widening inquisitively as Crosshair delicately rearranged his limbs with disdain, pointedly avoiding Phee’s gaze. 

“I’m going to work at the observatory, for now…” the sniper said, almost glaring at each family member in turn as though daring them to say anything positive about it or ask anything further. Hunter picked up on a curious sheepishness in his demeanor.

“Crosshair shared earlier that he received an opportunity to assist in the various tasks needed to fully restore the telescopes, scanners, and other equipment to complete working order. He seemed excited at the possibility of this particular endeavor,” Tech filled in, aware but entirely unbothered by Crosshair’s narrowed eyes boring into the side of his head. “One would think that an engineer such as myself would be a more natural choice, however these particular duties will combine his sharp eyesight with his precise movement and rapid calculations. Therefore, it is an ideal fit for Crosshair.”

“So naturally, he’s thrilled,” Echo observed, raising an eyebrow at the glowering topic of discussion. “What’s so bad about it that you look like a Kowakian Monkey Lizard at the thought?” 

Omega giggled, earning a fond flicker of the eyes from Crosshair before he returned his attention to the inanimate center of the table to answer, “There are only two other people who work there: an old Xyloan and a Zygerrian. Both are insufferable.”

“A Zygerrian?” Tech said, his interest piqued. “They do not usually leave their own system, due to the outside world’s strong disagreement with their moral code and the ethics of their choices.”

“You mean their lack thereof?” Echo said, disgust on his face. He’d heard about them during his time in the 501st, and that, combined with their own encounter with them on Ord Mantell, had given him more than enough material to form a strong opinion. “What is it doing out here? Looking for slaves?” he sneered.

“No idea what he is doing out here,” Crosshair said, pushing the last bit of rice on his plate with a fork. “I only talked to the old lady.”

“The elderly Xyloan, you mean,” Tech corrected.

“Sure.”

“And she offered you the post?” The tinge of disbelief in Tech’s voice was undeniable, and Hunter felt a smirk threatening to betray his mirth.

“After a bunch of nonsense about the planet choosing me and how perfect it all was and how ‘the provision’ would continue, yes. She did,” Crosshair answered evenly. 

“Fascinating.”

The rest of the evening progressed as usual, with leisurely discussion over residual treats and warm drinks. Phee was an excellent host, always adding small touches to each dinner that made everyone feel satiated and cared for. From the glowing lanterns on the table to the ever-changing assortment of foods (thanks to Tech’s sudden interest and consequent expertise in cooking), it created a perfect haven in an already idyllic setting. 

Everyone had plans to attend the lunar festival, which was centered in the Town Square. Since Xylo was the biggest island of the planet, people came from around the globe to enjoy the festivities, bringing their own unique wares, foods, and talents. It seemed to be building an excitement around town that was becoming quite infectious. Young people were given flower crowns and “blessed” with exhortations to consider their future endeavors with benevolence and selflessness, and amid a wide array of entertainment, the Xyloans would tell their customary tale of how the island came to be. 

It had been passed down over the centuries, traveling through so many people that some thought it had gotten embellished along the way. But it was a revered tradition, whether the details were true or not, and there was something inspiring about the dedication that the elderly storytellers showed in their performance. It would be the first time that Hunter and his family would have the opportunity to attend, but they’d already heard so much about the festival as a whole that it felt as though they’d been a part of it for years. Everyone headed to their own homes that night with a sense of excitement, finding it pleasant to be part of something so unifying and eager to see how it would all play out. 

The next couple of weeks went by rather quickly. Everyone seemed to be busy in preparation for the lunar festival. Omega was gleefully impatient for the most part, with periodic days of gloom or frustration due to the social issues with her classmates. It was hard for Hunter to see her going through it, but he was woefully ill-equipped to provide anything other than a steady stream of encouragement and positive regard. When he heard about some of the things they would say, he almost took Wrecker up on his offer to rough up the young adults, but Wrecker provided a steady source of calm and perspective about the whole ordeal. 

Lyra was a morning person, apparently, and somehow she and Hunter had fallen into a pattern of walking together in the early hours. He didn’t hunt every day, and after having run into her a number of times as she enjoyed the same calm paths and tranquil woods that he did, there was an unspoken agreement that they could pass the time together. They spoke, here and there, but also found that they were both comfortable with silence, which was a welcome reprieve for Hunter, who greatly valued the refreshment for his senses. 

Some mornings were particularly cold, and they opted for brisk walks up in the hills, exploring the craggy cliffs that rose above The Forest. Hunter never could hide his smirk at the number of layers of clothing she would wear, bundled from head to toe as they walked. Other days, when the fog was lighter and the air carried some warmth, they would venture further across the island, crossing rivers and weaving through the trees to find little inlets and small beaches. 

Lyra always insisted on taking some time to search the ground, no matter the setting, and would inevitably end up with a few odds and ends tucked into her pockets. The first time Hunter had grumbled about it, wanting to keep up their pace, she informed him gently and honestly that he was free to continue on his own. He’d chuckled at that, surprised at her ability to deliver the thought with neither sass nor ill will, and he’d instead contented himself with a thorough scrutiny of the nearby river, trying to assess if it would be a good location for freshwater fishing.

Their conversations were quiet and sporadic, initially focused on their immediate experiences on the island but slowly growing to include things from the past. Both seemed to be fairly private people, and neither of them were quick to offer up information without being asked. Hunter kept his origins vague, sharing that he had some wartime experience as a mercenary, “and some other things here and there”. He talked in general terms about the skills of each of his brothers and insinuated that Omega had been with them from the start. It was easier that way, and he was deeply grateful that Lyra didn’t pry, instead taking in his words with silent nods and the occasional hum. 

Similarly, however, he noticed that she was equally nebulous about the specifics of her own journey so far. He’d been able to gather that she was from Coruscant, where she had held a few different jobs, cooking her way through a few restaurants of increasing prestige, then moving into a server position where she waited on quite a few of the political elite. This had led to her offer of an administrative job in a highly-regarded Republic office, which she’d joked was given purely based on her “ravishing good looks and undeniable charisma”. She seemed to think that was all a lifetime ago, however, laughing it off as the gifts of youth and viewing herself as distinctly beyond all that. She’d never been married, and there was no mention of children. Her grandmother had been a significant figure in her life before passing away, and she was estranged from her parents but didn’t share why.

The office job had gone smoothly for a number of years, but then it became more and more tumultuous – “scandals and drama” – she explained, so she chose to leave and find something as far away from it all as possible. And that’s what led her to Xylo. Hunter couldn’t resist asking how she found the planet, since it had been such an unexpected discovery during Tech’s thorough search, but she shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips as she answered: “It was a fortuitous tale of twists and turns… so many of them true.” 

He’d left it at that, respecting her own sense of privacy as she had observed his. The following silence was broken only by a clumsy squawk as Lyra slipped on some rocks while crossing a river, and Hunter had moved so quickly to catch her that he’d leapt into the water beside her, fighting to maintain his balance as his boots scraped against the smooth stones. He’d flung one hand around her waist, and grabbed her hand with the other, pausing for a few seconds for both of them to regain their footing. Apologizing profusely the entire way to the other side, she’d been too distracted to notice the redness on his cheeks at the sudden proximity they’d shared in that moment, and it would have taken someone with senses that rivaled his own to register his increased heart rate.

.

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

Join the tag list via the discord server link or filling out my form.

@lightwise @have-a-hiddles @littlemissmanga @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel

@solstraalaa @skellymom @photogirl894 @youreababboon @anything-forourmoony

@reader6898 @moonstrider9904 @hipwell @lamiliani @catoo

@ilarria @padawancat97 @yve-barr @lucyysthings @flowered-bicycles

@maddiedrmr @techhasmjolnir @arctrooper69 @spicy-clones @ezras-left-thumb

@cw80831 @dreamie411 @meagmcc12 @waytoooldforthis78 @hunter-lvr

@baddest-batchers @yunggoblin @sweeticedtea @imperfectxprincess @ivyyyyy

@callsign-denmark @leotawrites

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 6

Chapter Six: I Swear A Million Times To Hold You Just The Way You Like

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER AHH, (besties wrap it up!) Lowkey this chapter was poorly edited so sorry! Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk! (MINORS, please run away :,)

Word Count: 17.3k (I hope this makes up for the delay my bad)

A/N: HELLAUR HOOMANS! Thank you again for all the love and support you have given me for this series! I truly appreciate you all for being here <3 This chapter and episode feels a little bit personal to write since I am someone who also has PTSD, so when I watched Pedro’s performance during those difficult panic attack scenes, I truly felt represented and seen. For me, my PTSD is subtle and not overly loud or noticeable at first glance, so when I saw it being portrayed that way I started ugly crying pls--

Song: Sweet Disaster by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

THREE MONTHS LATER…

WYOMING WILDERNESS, HEADING WEST – DAY

It’s been three months since the incident, and neither of you spoke about what happened that morning in Kansas City. The past few months of walking West have proven a challenge as the seasons begin to change. As you suspected, you noticed Joel slowly let Ellie in; he taught her how to look for tracks and how to properly keep watch the first time he fell asleep. Her questioning, her loving attitude, her nasty language, everything entered his heart gradually. He hadn't planned on it, but he now cares for her. You, on the other hand, were already fond of her, you taught her the more “fun” activities. Like looking for more constellations as time passes by, continuing educating her ASL, and teaching a few of your favorite songs from your original reality.

You occasionally hummed as the seasons changed, trying to fill the silence and somber with music. Joel and Ellie didn’t seem to mind, you asked if they were bothered or annoyed but Joel grunted, “Better than Ellie asking a million more questions.” You simply chuckled while Ellie protested and began to defend herself. And then there were the moments you couldn’t quite label. Small touches between you and Joel, providing each other comfort now and then, knowing how bad the loneliness can get to anyone. A squeeze on your shoulder, the brushing of fingers, and if you were lucky, you’d get to hold his hand for a period of time as you trekked through the terrain. You swore there were times you felt his gaze roaming every mile of skin you had, but every time you turned to look he was already busy doing something else.

The branches have exchanged their leaves for white sleeves and all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe. As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high, this world gets rewritten and retraced every time. After seeing Cody crawling with infected, you three headed out to the large forest to find out if Tommy is still alive and in hiding. Even Ellie tried to point out that there was a possibility he didn’t make it, but as Joel had said before, he was persistent.

You came across a cozy cabin hidden in the forest. Realizing you had no other options, you had to ask for directions to where you were at the moment. A quiet and nice old lady, named Florence had resided and mentioned she was with her husband, Marlon. After making the soup she told three of you that her husband wouldn’t be happy they were in their home. You peeked past the curtains and out the window you saw he husband returning from hunting in the forest, hanging out two white rabbits by the door. Marlon walked inside his home to find her wife sitting upon the rocking chair, her gaze slowly moving towards Joel, him with his revolver out while you and Ellie are upstairs, quietly watching from the mezzanine.

Marlon reluctantly places his bow and arrows on the side entry table, removes his gloves, and unzips his outer jacket, while Joel grumbles out, “And the gun.” Marlon grunts, “Who the hell are you?” Joel walks a bit closer while demanding for him to cooperate, he says, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it out of reach.” The senior does as he’s told and places it on the other table and asks his wife who was quietly watching the interaction, “Why didn’t you shoot him?” She continues rocking back and forth, “The gun’s all the way over there. He didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” He nonchalantly replies and spots the empty soup bowl on the wooden living room table, “You made him soup?”  Florence gives his husband an obvious answer, "Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” He simply shakes his head and sits down on his own chair. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel states and the other man replies and removes his cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.” Your cowboy shakes his head, “I haven’t told you what he looks like.”

“He look anything like you?” He asks and Joel tilts his head, “A bit.”

Ellie taps your arm and whispers to you, “It’s you and Joel from the future.” You frown and shake your head as you whisper back to her, “No.” The young girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” You blink at her, and you’re seemingly left speechless.

“Then I ain’t seen him,” He says, “He’s got a girl and his wife with him.” You hear Florence say and you nearly choke on air in surprise. Joel turns to look at her, pissed, and confused, and didn’t even bother to correct her. Ellie yells next to you, “Can I come down?” Joel raises his voice at her, “No! Ellie!” You couldn’t stop her as she excitedly runs downstairs, and you have no choice but to follow her.

The elderly couple laughs knowingly, Joel looks at you and Ellie, “What did I just say?” And you give him an apologetic look and Ellie replies, “Joel, come on. They’re like a thousand.” Marlon questions aloud,  “Who’s this little psycho and her mother?” Your mouth slightly parted open, about to inform him that you weren’t married to Joel and you weren’t her mother but Joel dismissed it, “Never mind them. I need you to tell us where we are.” He went to the middle of the living room, shoving the map in his direction, cheekily the man throws back, “If you got a map, why you lost?” Ellie’s lips turn downwards as she replies sarcastically, “Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.”

Marlon whistles out, “Holy.” And Florence chuckles, still enjoying the excitement that they haven’t had in years. Joel sighs and points out on the map, “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.” Marlon glances back at his wife, “Did you tell him the truth?” She nods, “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you telling me the truth?” She doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah.” He lets out a deep exhale as he leans over, pointing where you all were currently.

Joel places his revolver back in his holster, his eyebrows are furrowed and he sighs in frustration, “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sits down and you sit right next to him and Ellie mimics you both. “Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.” Marlon replied as his wife gives her input, “I didn’t want to.” He grumpily waves her off and you lean next to Ellie, “Okay, there’s some truth in what you said.” She gives you a smirk in response.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” Marlon asked while Joel clenches his jaw, and Ellie replies, “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.” He hums in agreement, “Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel doesn’t give up and asks, “So you haven’t heard the name, ‘Tommy’?”

“Nope.” He simply says and Ellie questions, “What about the Fireflies?” Florence replies this time, “We get those in the summer.” The young girl frowns, “Not the bugs, the people.” Cluelessly the woman asks, “There are firefly people?” Her husband chuckles and Joel's frown grows deeper, creating harsh lines on his forehead, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The senior man doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. Go east. But you never go past the river here.” He then points to a specific location on the map, the blue stream that flows across the paper, “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked, brave and a little naive, the kind wise Florence replies, “Death. We never see who’s out there but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.” She turns to look at Joel, “If your brother is west of the river, he’s gone.” You lift your eyes to the man next to you, Joel has his eyebrows pinched, his gaze distant, and the lines by the side of his mouth are evident. Your heart sinks at the chance that the elderly couple might be right. “You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie softly says and the woman answers, “Scared him.” Her husband chuckles and Joel scrambles to get out of there, not saying a single word, he’s grabbing the map and packs up the rest of his things.

You and Ellie are quick to follow after him as she comments, “You don’t seriously believe them.” Joel’s footsteps are loud with every crunch of snow, “They’ve lived here a long time.” He turns and you do too to see Ellie grab a rabbit, “Put that back.” Ellie doesn’t listen and swings the dead rabbit behind her back, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the fireflies.” Joel unexpectedly stops walking, and you can hear his breathing become labored as he places his hand on the wooden fence, you angle your head to the right in confusion and concern.

Joel only hears muffled echoes as the ringing in his ears overpowers his senses, “Joel? Are you okay?” You softly ask and there is no response, you hear Ellie begin to worry as well and lines begin to form across your forehead. “Shut up.” His voice was barely audible as he places his hand on his chest. You jerk back, but you try to decode what was happening. Ellie then asks him, “Holy shit. Are you dying?” He shakes his head in response, “I’m okay.” But the world seems to spin around him, his vision feels blurry and the weightlessness he feels is unsettling, unable to process the news he had just heard and the possible chance his brother is no longer alive. The further he goes West, the more his paternal empathy is starting to merge Ellie and Sarah into one.

Yours and Ellie’s voices merge into one large echo as you both try and make sure he’s alright. “I’m fine.” You both don’t buy it, “No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.” Ellie said, referring to both of you, which seemingly brings Joel grounded remembering he is now a caretaker and guardian to the both of you, he turns to you as he assures, “I said I’m fine. It’s just the… cold air all of a sudden.”

You don’t buy it one bit but you don’t want to diagnose him immediately so you keep silent and listen to Ellie speak as she marches on forward while ducking under the wooden fence, “All right, uh… let’s go and find Tommy and, and the Fireflies.” Joel grunts and looks at you and you avert your eyes from him, quickly following Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie said, stumbling a little but marching on, “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

All the bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow, your feet dug into the snow, a small thin path of footprints lay behind me, telling me where you have come from, but not where you are going. The winds were cold, almost freezing your skin with a simple touch. The icy winds blew against your jacket, the fabric keeping you warm, enough to feel comfortable but not to keep your cold thoughts away. You knew about Jackson, but you weren’t entirely sure where exactly the town was. You silently hope Tommy was fine and nothing had changed.

You gazed around the land, nothing but unending snow and ice, almost a hint that this land had gotten incredibly secluded through the years. After the trees reached the sky, children laughed and played, and the sounds of birds chirping in the woods woke me up from my long rest. It was almost as if the world itself was a part of you, but now that everything has turned frigid and awful, you hardly recognize it.

You see a river stream to your left, Ellie stops to look at it and rolls her eyes as she sarcastically says, “The River of Death. Scary.” Joel sighs, “Don’t start. It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.” Ellie smiles, “Good. I’m starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.” You ruffle her hair a little bit and Joel replies, “We can get our own rabbits.” 

Ellie excitedly asks as she looks up at Joel, “You gonna teach me how? You taught Birdie.” You bite back a smile from the memory, his entire firm body was behind you, hands on either side of you, the ghost of his breath as he whispered instructions creating a trail of goosebumps. If you were being honest, you were very close to kissing him, but you were too afraid to mess it all up, to ask if he felt it too, and continued to wait for him to be ready. “Just keep movin’.” Joel dismisses her and the girl sighs in frustration and exhaustion. You look to Joel, your eyes gazing into his brown ones, hoping that if you stare long enough you could magically read his mind, then turned to trail after Ellie.

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – NIGHT

Your campfire appeared to echo the starlight and bounced off the walls of the small cave as if the flames so close and so distant had so very much to say to one another. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. As that dry, withered stump slowly releases years and years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground around it, outcome bright lights, whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and a thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles.

You sit atop a large rock by the edge with Ellie, both of your heads are tilted up, black heavens are the perfect stage upon which the brightest of hues dance. You could watch the aurora lights for infinity and always see that it is new, a unique moment and beauty in all of existence. Rays of light fall from the sky, making drapes that stretch across the sky. And they are reminiscent of fluttering drapes or curtains in the wind. There is also a violet and a crimson trim at the bottom and top ends. Sometimes the hues are blended together and braided into one another. New beams of light streaming down from space cause the curtains to vanish and reappear.

Joel looks up to find you both whispering and giggling, you are pointing up at the sky and moving excitedly as you explained the glow from the stars and the infinite rays of light creating waves in the cold midnight sky. He watches Ellie lean her head on your shoulder and you gently rub her back, eventually giving her a light squeeze as a form of a side hug. He brings his fingers to his lips, and a shrill attention-grabbing pierces through the air, both of you swiftly turn your attention to Joel who says, “Come down from there. You’re both gonna break your necks.”

You and Ellie make your way down the high rock, and both of you walk to Joel who was sipping from his flask. Ellie curiously asks Joel, “Ahh… Can I have some?” He shakes his head at her, “No.” The fourteen-year-old whines, “What? Just to warm up. C’mon.” Joel looks at you, and you were surprised he wanted your input or permission. You simply nodded, letting him give the metal flask to Ellie which she receives with a bright smile, she raises it in thanks and takes a large sip. Her face twists into a sour expression, her eyes shut for a brief moment while her eyebrows meet in the middle, “Yep… still gross.” Ellie hands it back to Joel and he asks if you want some to which you respond with a shake of your head. She lets out a little cough and Joel quietly sips from his flask.

“So, I’ve been thinking. Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.” Ellie says and you watch Joel shift his eyes a bit, trying to figure out where this is heading, “Okay?” Ellie raises her eyebrows as she asks aloud, “Then what? Like, what do we do?” Joel raises his defenses, trying to keep the invisible bricks intact steady, “Oh, it’s ‘we’?” Unintentionally you sigh loudly in exasperation, looking at Joel with your eyelids heavy, you nervously lick the bottom of your lip and cling to your patience as it slowly slips through your fingers like sand. Ellie also sighs and reforms her question, “Okay, fine. Whatever. You. Her. You both can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel clears his throat, “It’s never been an option. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch.” Ellie encourages him to continue, “Cool. What kind?” He replies while he smugly looks at Ellie “Sheep. I would raise sheep. They’re quiet… do what they’re told.” Ellie rolls her eyes and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.” You smile at the thought of him living a domesticated life, no more danger or violence, just simple and safe. Joel hesitates a little before asking Ellie, “And what about you? Where are you gonna go?”

She raises her head high, looking up at the full midnight moon glimmering bright along with the twinkling stars, “It’s probably cause I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?” You create creases beneath your eyes as you smile widely, having a pretty good guess as to who. You and Joel say the same thing at the same time, “Sally Ride.” Ellie grins, “Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever. How about you Birdie?” You blink twice, “What?” She raises an eyebrow, “What are you gonna do when after I save the world? Are you gonna try to go back to your world or whatever?”

You've trusted and refused every compass you've followed, and the same is true of an ever-changing concept of right. You wrap your arms around your middle, and your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, “Um… I actually haven’t thought about that. I don’t know.” She looks at you with confusion and questions “Don’t you want to go back home?” Her inquiry causes you to shrink into yourself a little more, not wanting to answer, craving to distance yourself from Joel and Ellie’s gaze. You swallow nervously and look down at your worn-out boots, “I… Maybe. It might take a long time before I could figure out something. But to be honest Ellie, I never felt… at home there. So many things that I had before, but they don't matter to me now.”

Then it becomes quiet for a bit, you watch Ellie blink a couple of times, the crackling bright glow of the orange fire illuminating on side of her face, as she begins to question the future before her, she couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll work, right? The vaccine?” Joel looks down unsure, “It’s a little late to start wonderin’.”

“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie says as she doesn’t bring her eyes to either of you, your eyes soften at her admittance, none of you have talked about what had happened, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, but to hear her finally bring it up giving you a sense of pride, for her to have the courage to speak about something so traumatic. Joel continued the conversation by asking her what she meant, “Tried what?” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at either of you, choosing to gaze into the campfire, “I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him.” Joel softly says, the wind carrying his words into the night, “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but… she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.” Ellie doesn’t say anything as she nods and he takes a large gulp from his flask, throwing his head back as he does.

The fire crackles loudly, but Ellie’s voice could be heard as she asked, “You wanna take first watch or second?” Joel grunts out, “I’ll do both. Get some sleep.” You opened your mouth to dispute him, saying that you could do the first watch but he doesn’t let you get a single syllable in as he narrows his eyes at you, “No.” You huff in annoyance and say nothing. You and Ellie get up to go deeper into the cave as Joel says to the both of you while grabbing his rifle, “Dream of… going home to sheep ranches on the moon.” Ellie gives him another nod, “I will.” 

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – EARLY MORNING

The snow forest feels to the rest of the world like a gift waiting to be opened. Upon the ascent of the daylight, the wilderness is so bitter cold. It exudes a clean aura that invites the soul to pause for a minute and allow the sight to permeate the soul. You live in the moment, the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future you dream of even in the cold. The last of the morning stars were blinking out tragically above you. They glowed like bling-silver grains of sand in the early sky. It was a sight to see as their bejeweled splendor faded into nothingness. A ghostly, orb-white winter moon lingered there, eerily similar to a faint strobe light. A halo of brilliant golden encircled its waning brilliance. The sky around it was a vast sheet of grate-grey, with a plum-purple hue near the horizon.

You woke up a bit earlier than usual, and you found Joel passed out, laying on his side and using his jacket as a pillow. You could hear the birds squawking from above the trees, and see the campfire had dimmed. Quietly, you pushed yourself up and grabbed the rifle he had left beside him. You did the usual checks to ensure the safety of everyone, and to see if there were any tracks or unwanted animals lurking around. So far, luckily, you three were safe for the time being.

You made your way back to the cave, finding Ellie alert and awake. She looks at Joel and then back at you, and you raise your finger to your lips, indicating that she should let Joel rest and be quiet. The young girl nods in understanding, silently walking towards you, the both of you taking watch. You let Ellie practice what Joel had taught her and let her hold the rifle in the meantime. And she did everything perfectly.

As time passed and the sun began to rise from the east, you hear Joel mumble in his sleep. You tuned your ears to his whimpers and mumbling, catching the words, “Supposed to be me… Supposed to…” You frown in understanding and worry, you had your fair share of nightmares fueled by guilt. Joel startles awake, gasping for air as he pushes himself up frantically searching for his rifle, only to find you and Ellie standing guard. Ellie couldn’t help herself as she quips, “Still mumbling in your sleep. Birdie and I woke up early. You were passed out, so we both took second watch.”

Joel’s fury sprang to life as he stood up, “You gotta wake me up if that happens. Both of you can’t do things like this.” You felt a flash of irritation as you say to him, “But we can… ‘cause we just did.” He’s quiet for a moment, caught off guard by your reaction, then he speaks, “I’m responsible for both of you, okay?” Ellie is quick to throw back, “Then don’t fall asleep.” She began to recount detail and instruction Joel had given her before when he taught her while you proudly smirk at him, “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.” Joel grouchily nods, “Uh-huh.” And gestures to her to give him back the rifle, he nods at her in approval this time, “You wake me up next time.” Ellie rolls her eyes and smiles sarcastically, “Yes, sir. But you should know that Birdie woke up before me.”

Your eyes widen at her, “Ellie, don’t throw me under the bus!” She chuckles at you as Joel gives you a pointed look and you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try and argue, instead he just shakes his head, “Let’s get goin’.”

The cold air stung your cheeks and you pulled your scarf up closer to your face. As you looked around you took notice of the white blanket of snow covering the trees, ground, and mountains. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean. The world around you was frozen in a glaring white quiet. Nothing made a sound, nothing moved, nothing sang. Winter's slavering teeth have vanished. Its piercing winds had stripped the trees of their final leaves, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were groaning beneath the weight of the snow, encased in their medical coats. A great limb would occasionally groan, shatter, and collapse. It sounded like an explosion went off in the jungle. Apart from that, the woodland was engulfed in an eerie stillness. There was no morning chorus, sound symphony, or avian orchestra. The entire globe was encased in a dome of quiet. Winter's lethal grasp has strangled and suffocated all life on the planet. Snowflakes fluttered down on the three of you, sylph-like in their airy quiet. They glinted like crushed diamond dust as they landed. A shimmering winter scape of white and silver.

The sudden gunshot disrupted the peace of the forest, and the startled geese began to honk and fly off into the distance, Joel waits for a bit to ensure it was safe to cross the bridge, Ellie observes, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does, “The River of Death. Still no people.” Joel grumbles out, “Fine.” Then proceeds to stand up, and walk to the entrance of the bridge as you and Ellie closely follow him from behind.

As you continue to make your way across the bridge, Ellie tries to whistle like Joel, however, no high pitch sound comes out, just puffs of air. Joel turns around in confusion, and Ellie’s reply is muffled by her fingers, “I’m learning how to whistle.” And Joel looks at her incredulously, “You don’t know how to whistle?” She retorts, “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” He says the obvious, “No.” You laugh, letting yourself enjoy the little moments of peace with the two. “Seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that?” Ellie asks walking a little bit ahead and you walking side-by-side with Joel, he harrumphs, “Talent.” And you lightly smack his arm at his response, and you swore you saw him give you a small smile, Ellie mutters, “Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt.”

“Huh.” Joel states, and Ellie mocks him, “‘Huh’. Like. ‘She’s a girl. She can’t handle it.’” Joel speaks as he trudges through the snow, “You can handle the shootin’. Not so sure about the dressin’.” Ellie sighs, “What’s the dressin’?” You and Joel walk a little bit past her and he replies, “The part where you take the guts out.” And your nose scrunches up at the thought while Ellie says, “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like… undressing from the inside.” She paused for a bit to catch her breath before saying, “Still interested, though.”

The sound of water rushing fills your ears as you waddled through the snow, stumbling upon a large structure. Dams were mechanical temples that harnessed the victorious powers of water, power, and terrestrial fertility for human advantage. “Dam.” Ellie said, and you rolled your eyes in amusement while Joel tells her, “You’re no Will Livingston.” She quickly throws back at him, “Yeah, yeah, but who is? So that made electricity?” Referencing the Dam in front of them, Joel mutters, “Yeah. Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.” Ellie laughs, “You know, you could’ve just made something up. I would’ve believed you.” Joel answers, “Ask Birdie, she’s practically a walking encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or amazed at the fact you know what an encyclopedia is.” You quip at him with a smirk and his lip quirks up in a small smirk at you, and his eyes twinkle with mischief and desire as his pupils slightly darken, “Smartass.” You winked at him, “You like it.”

“Damn right.” He said with his eyes unwavering from yours, and you felt every atom in your body spark to life. Joel’s heavy breathing stirred the tiny hairs on your neck, sending a shiver into every cell of your body. Ellie disrupted you both as she makes a disgusted groan, “If the two of you are done flirting can we please keep moving?” The heat of embarrassment rushed into your face, leaving you speechless as you decide to break away from his stare and keep marching forward.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” Ellie said then was immediately quiet after, somewhere between then and now irony slipped its way into her vocabulary, laughter became an anecdote for guilt, sacrifice grew to be a band name for shame and unnecessary death became a nightmare that rode her piggyback. At this point, the thought suddenly struck her, “Hey, Joel, Birdie… what if this is the River of Death?”

Joel grabs the map from his jacket pocket and unfolds it, checking to see if Ellie was right. The cold wind harshly bit into your skin as you three stared at the crystal blue river. At first, you couldn’t see them, but you could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow, and the clopping sound of horse hoofs. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in. Joel tried to grab you and Ellie to run, but they were too quick, and organized, and had you surrounded in seconds with their guns and rifles pointed at you. “Get behind me,” Joel said, slightly pushing both of you behind his tall frame. You all raised your hands up, and showed no sign of aggression, Joel shouts, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the gun,” the harsh voice ordered in front of you, Joel does as he’s told and so do you. “Both of you… take five steps back.” the man says, and Joel tries to reason with him, “How ‘bout we just talk this through?” And the unknown man unrelentingly replies, “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Joel's shoulders tense, “Okay, easy.” He turns to both of you, Ellie has her eyes wide open and mouth slightly parted, her hands slightly quivering and you trying to steady your breathing, “You’ll both be okay.”

You follow the orders given to you and take five steps back and you hear the man ask, “You been near Infected?” And Joel replies, “There’s no Infected out here.” He doesn’t buy it one bit and retorts, “The hell there ain’t.” He whistles and you hear a short, abrupt vocalization, relatively loud and high-pitched, changes in frequency, the bark of an excited dog, “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

The black large dog continues to bark and its handler removes his leash, he prances over to Joel, sniffing him up and down, jumps up to place his paws on his stomach, looks at him then whines, not finding any indication of the virus. The dog walks back over to his handler for a treat while Joel’s Texan accent becomes heavy, “Like I said… we’ll just move on.” The man still has his rifle pointed at you as he sits atop his horse, he nods over in your and Ellie’s direction, “Now both of them.”

Your heart drops, and you hear Ellie’s breathing become shaky. The flip in your stomach takes over all of your senses, you are frozen and unmoving as you watch the dog crouch lowly and growl at you and Ellie. Joel turns back to glance at you both and you’re worriedly looking at him. He turns around, not bringing himself to watch, the world becomes quiet, the silent ringing returns, and his lungs are clawing for air. It brings him back to that moment when the world took her away, his Sarah, the powerlessness and helplessness feeling that had followed him over the past twenty years. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders that faithful day.

The sound of a high-pitched bark brings him back to the present, he hears you and Ellie giggle and turns to find you and her completely fine, happily rubbing and petting the dog as the creature licks and wags its tail. The man whistles and the dog is called away, you and Ellie stand up from the snow and hear the leader say, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?” Joel quickly replies, “I’m just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.” A beautiful woman, whose skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany, exclaims, “Ho!” And walks her horse forward, “What’s your name?” He answers breathlessly, “Joel.” And his name became the key, the password, and the answer, for them to escort you into their town.

You three were given and allowed to ride your own horses, the cold wind rushing past me. The sun’s rays of light are covered by the darkness of the clouds.  Hooves, galloping along the plush white snow, the loud clopping and crunch fill your ears as you hold onto the reins. In the distance, you see a large wooden wall with a giant gate, men and women stationed on top, ready to shoot any intruders. One of the men raises a red bandana, a signal to one of the guards on watch.

The large gate opens for all of you, the horses begin to trot at a normal pace as you take in the sight of Jackson. Underneath you are fluffy, cold snow. The sounds of slush fill your ears. You watch as the misty fog escapes your mouth anytime you take a breath. Every time you inhale a frigid prickle enters your lungs and every time you exhale the heat from your breath warms your lips. Around you are naked trees covered in powder-white snow, glistening in the daylight. The town is neatly arranged, and it felt comfortable and safe. You spot the Tipsy Bison on the right, a location you recognized, then bring your eyes to observe the people around you. A thriving and collaborative community, stable enough to provide and care for the elderly and children.

You continue on forward, spotting Tommy on top of the scaffolding, helping with construction work. You angle your head to look at Joel as he shouts at the top of his lungs, “Tommy!” His brother stops what he’s doing to look at Joel, then he proceeds to run down the steps leading up to the scaffolding, Joel urgently dismounts from his horse, and the people around town watch as the two brothers reunite, a large impactful hug from the both of them, secure and firm. Their shoulders move up and down as the two laugh loudly, finally, all of the pieces align and the balance is clearly defined, he sighs and settles down for the first time.

Tommy smiles as he asks his older brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Joel looks at you and Ellie for a second before back to Tommy, replying, “I came here to save you.” Joel begins to laugh again, his chuckle a melody you’ve rarely heard before, a sound you keep in your back pocket just in case. 

You bring your gaze to Ellie, whose expression is mixed and jealous, sensing that she’s now a bit less important in Joel’s life. You look back at the two brothers, turning down the volume of your heart, the massive table of countless dominos, all lined up and weaving in and out of each other, every relationship and decision in every piece of domino, subconsciously shrinking the row of dominos the best you can. Eliminating your opinions or wants and desires, convincing yourself that this will be simple by just focusing on the needs of everyone else but yourself. The only form of control you’ve had looks like empathy to understand all sides.

MESS HALL, JACKSON COUNTY, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The mess hall was large, warm, and inviting. The indistinct chatter fills the giant wooden cabin, lightbulbs twinkling from above, and dining tables lined up neatly. Ellie was sat in between you and Joel, she is scarfing down her food, eagerly eating everything that was on her plate and so was Joel. You were meekly eating, trying to not draw attention to yourself, as you quietly chewed on your potatoes. “There’s more if you need it.” And you soon come to realize that this must be Maria, the way Tommy’s body language is drawn and pulled close to her, you smile when you hear Joel reply politely, “Thank you, ma’am.” And you also offer your thanks to her and she nods in your direction in acknowledgment. Joel cuts into his food as he says, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.” Ellie pipes in, “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fuckin’ amazing.” You wince in second-hand embarrassment and so does Joel, he turns to Maria, “Sorry. Ellie… let’s mind our manners.” Tommy smirks knowingly. At one moment, another girl furtively looks at Ellie, until Ellie loudly says “What?!” and scares her off. Joel’s lips turn down and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” Ellie doesn’t relent, “What about her manners?” 

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria points out and Ellie nods, “Right… well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.” Maria shakes her head, “They also aren’t armed.” The young brave girl glares at her in response, Tommy decides to step in, “You know what? Uh… I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Ellie raises her tone and points out, “She was gonna have our guys kill us.” Joel gives her a pointed look, an indication for her to stop being disrespectful but Tommy calmly responds, “Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” Ellie nonchalantly says, “Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there.” You and Joel chastise her quickly, “Ellie.” But she doesn’t care, “They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Maria doesn’t deny the ugly truth, “Those are the people who tried us.” Tommy adds, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Maria narrows her eyes at Joel as she comments, “Not always, at least.” You feel your anger flare up from your chest as you grip your knife tighter, glaring at Maria for suggesting such a thing.

Joel swallows down his food and his shame, “Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”  You place an elbow on the table, using your hand to hide your face in embarrassment as you squirm in your chair, you hear Tommy clear his throat, “Well um…” You peek past your hand and watch him grab Maria’s hand, spotting the wedding band on his left ring finger, “Maria is family, actually.” Ellie blinks in surprise as she says, “Oh, shit! Congrats.” You bring your eyes to Joel’s unmoving figure, frozen in shock from the sudden news as his breathing becomes unsteady, Ellie softly whispers to him, “Joel, say congrats.” The all-too-familiar cold tone is unmistakable as he grits his teeth to say, “Congrats.” There’s an awkward silence between the two parties, and you take a large gulp of your water and Tommy offers, “How ‘bout a tour.” You nod as you’re the first one to get up from your chair, not liking the possibility of conflict between the two brothers, “Yes, please.”

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The town had a large plaza, and a giant vibrant Christmas tree in the center, Maria spoke as she walked, and the rest of you followed, “We settled here about seven years ago. Just a handful of us back then.” She points out a section of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.” Joel warily looks around, “And you said Infected?” Tommy nods, “Yeah, but usually in smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out there… it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie asks and Joel is quick to respond for him, “No, he can’t. How do you keep this place quiet?” Maria replies, “Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.” Joel stares at his brother and Tommy shrinks away from his pointed look, you listen to Maria as she explains the purpose of each building, “House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as a jail, not that we’ve needed it.” Joel looks to one of the electric poles, “And you draw power from the dam?” Maria confirms his suspicion, nodding, “Got that workin’ a couple years ago. After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights.” Ellie shakes her head, seemingly impressed, “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

The group makes their way to the farm, and a herd of sheep passes by, and Ellie points it out as she smiles at him, “Hey, Joel, check it. Baa.” Ellie playfully swings her arms back and forth as she asks Maria, “Are you, like, in charge?” She looks at Tommy for a bit before replying, “No one person’s in charge. I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.” Tommy picks off where she left off, “Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” to which Joel replies, "So, uh, communism." Tommy's knee-jerk reaction is, "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that." His discomfort with the term pulls from over a century of distortion of the fundamental principles of communism. “It is that, literally. This is a commune. We're communists," Maria states modestly, to which Tommy’s discomfort at the thought causes him to stagger a bit, to which you offer, “I can try and explain it later.” Tommy nods in thanks and you give him a reassuring smile.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims as she makes her way to the stables, Maria trails behind her and you follow the two ladies, “That’s our newest one. Couple months old. You wanna pet her?” Ellie’s smile is as bright as the sun and her teeth as white as the snow beneath you, wide and happy, “Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks to which Maria replies, “Shimmer.” Your smile falters a bit, recognizing the name from the second game, but you shake it off, not wanting to keep looking into the future. “Shimmer you’re so beautiful,” Ellie says as she pets the pony gently, completely enamored by her beauty and gentle grace. Maria turns to Tommy and discusses the possible sleeping arrangement, “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.” Her husband nods in agreement, “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since the ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.” Ellie carelessly remarks, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

Joel has his eyes narrowed and annoyed, “We’ve been doin’ fine.” You get the slight feeling he’s being defensive, and Maria looks at you and Ellie, and tells her husband, “Well I’ll take her and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up.” Tommy then looks to his older brother for approval and Joel nods, “Yeah. Okay.” You and Ellie whip your head to face Joel, slightly unnerved and fearful of the unknown, and potentially Joel pushing you both away. “Joel.” Ellie says and he brushes her off as he walks away, “You’ll be fine.” Maria asks the both of you, “Shall we?” And having no choice but to follow her you both nod, “Uh, yeah.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The warm hot shower soothes your skin as you wash off the grime and dirt of the last few months. At some point, you had decided to sit down in the bathtub of the shower, letting the water hit your skin freely, your eyes distant and gaze unsteady as you watch the steam of the shower move to the light. You hug your knees close to your chest, rest your chin on your knees, and finally let yourself go. 

The haze takes over your vision, a sculpture of water and unsettled dust, and your exhausted mind only wants to be carried home. So you fight with the concept of grace while attempting to hold everything in place. You were so full of life that you could barely hold it in. You were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. Your questions ricochet like broken satellites. How did your bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die? Your nights have grown so long and now you beg for sound advice, time has been ruthless and unkind, every turn in the corner of the maze only to be faced with a dead end, the trapdoors you couldn’t see, and the lives that were lost to your journey to Jackson. You felt so vulnerable and fragile, the fact that the foundation of society was shaken to its core due to the pandemic, governments, families, and lives as you know them, will never be the same again. As life replayed, you hear the voice in the back of your mind proclaim, to let the brokenness be felt until you reach the other side.

The sting in your eyes as the tears escape from your eyes, allows for the cold embrace of the depression you’ve kept hidden and at bay for so long. Sometimes you pretend you are evergreen and keep your cards close to your chest. But this time you allow yourself the reprieve, as you quietly sob into your hands and gasp for air now and then, letting every little fracture of you shatter out loud. Wondering if your messes mattered and if all the chaos counted as you felt empty-handed. You had set sail along the universe's ocean of the unknown with cheap wood and tried to patch up every leak that you could until the blame grew too heavy.

You reflected on the world that you were unintentionally placed in, presenting the world through a different lens, a world that turned hostile and dangerous. But a story that explored how nevertheless you can still find love and meaning, the longing for human connections, and how willing you are to sacrifice everything to safeguard the people you love. 

You hadn’t planned on it, the greater weight of the truth settling inside of you. Fundamental resilience and a built-in resistance, and against your judgment, prevent you from completely surrendering yourself from truly giving up on being human. You open your eyes and slowly rise to your feet, placing your palm on the wall, you blink and try to look past the undefined and fragile promise at the light at the end of the tunnel. You nod, shakily you breathe, and whisper to no one in particular, “I guess that’s how it goes.”

After the mental breakdown in the shower, you stepped out of the bathroom fresh and felt a little bit lighter. You lift your chin a little higher and open your eyes a little wider despite the puffiness in your eyes. You are wrapped in a towel, and as you make your way to the foot of the bed, you find fresh clean clothes to wear and a menstrual cup. You smile at the thoughtful gift and find a note, that reads ‘I’m just across the street. Come by when you’re done.’

You get dressed and make your way down the hall to Ellie’s room, you knock on her door and call for her, “Ellie? You there?” When no reply came, you slowly opened the door to find her gone and after investigating a little bit, you see a similar note from Maria. You figured she had already gone over. You leave her room and walk across the street to Maria’s house, knocking on the door and Ellie opening the door for you. You smile at her as you walk inside, appreciating the warmth already provided by the fireplace.

You take a good look at the living room, yellow curtains by the window, a messy coffee table with an unsolved crossword, and a large cozy couch facing the fireplace as it crackles and roars. Your eyes catch the small blackboard sitting on top of the fireplace with two candles on each side. Ellie walks over to it and you follow closely behind her as she stares up at the two names. Kevin and Sarah, with the dates, that they were born and taken away too soon from this world.

You let out an uneven exhale and feel your frown deepen, as the flashbacks of Joel’s life come back to you in a blur. The scream for mercy, watching him tear apart with each cry and wail from his hoarse voice. The day the world ended was the same day his world ended. Something broken that cannot be fixed. You both turn your heads to the sound of the back door opening, Maria enters bringing the cold wind with her until she closes the door behind her, “Oh, good. Just traded for these two. Go ahead, try it on.” She hands Ellie a deep purple long coat while yours is A sophisticated medium gray with the barest hint of violet. The young girl comments as she wears her purple puffer coat, “It’s, uh, super fuckin’ purple.” You bend down a little to help Ellie with her coat, fixing the collar and the lining, Maria nods, “Eggplant. It fits?” Ellie replies, “Yeah.” Maria continues to fuss over her as you put on your coat, “Shoes aren’t too big?” She answers, “Uh, no. Where’s our other stuff?” Maria lifts her shoulders, “Rag pile. Did you both get the thing I left you?” You merely nod while Ellie bluntly replies, “Yeah. Weirdest gift ever.” Maria nods in agreement but says, “But useful. Who’s been cutting your hair?”

“Uh, world-class salons,” Ellie says plainly and it earns a laugh from you and Maria, “Let me get my scissors.” Ellie’s mouth opens to protest but Maria doesn’t let her argue, “Trim. That’s all. Just the ends, I promise. And her too, she’ll go first so you can see that you have nothing to worry about.” Referring to you as she walks to the kitchen. You ruffle Ellie’s hair and whisper to her, “Just let her,” to which she sighs and takes a seat on one of the dining table chairs.

The trim was much needed. Maria had cut your hair in the style you wanted with such precision and skill. You happily thanked her with a polite smile, sat down on one of the other chairs, and let Ellie go next, of course, Ellie being the curious kid she is, begins to interrogate Maria, “So, this was, like, your job back then or something?” The sharp snips of scissors fill the silence for a bit before she answers, “No, I was an Assitant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put the bad guys in jail. I always liked doing hair though. Maybe it was a mom thing.”

“Damn, that’s pretty impressive.” You said and she gives you her thanks and asks, “What did you do for work?” Your smile falters, “Um, I used to be a researcher, a Quantum physicist.” The quiet was nice for a moment before she comments, “You both were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?” Ellie answers for the both of you, “Uh, yeah.” She stumbles on her words, “I’m- I’m sorry about your kids.” Your nails dig into your palm and listen to Maria reply, “It’s okay. And kid. Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”The heavy silence that follows tells Maria that Ellie didn’t know that before, and you find it harder to breathe, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess that explains him a little,” Ellie says and she brings her eyes to you, “Did you know?” You squirm, the feeling of deja vu from when you first heard those words from Joel, the accusatory glance, and the betrayal in her eyes. “Yes,” You said and she scoffs at you, “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?” You pull back and raise your eyebrows at her, “You and I both know that was never my story to tell or share. No amount of knowledge will ever excuse the fact that I can never talk about what happened without Joel’s explicit consent.” Ellie resigns from her lashing out and nods at you with understanding, and you simply sighed. Maria chimes in, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you both are doing with him.” 

“Good.” You and Ellie say at the same time, quickly protective of Joel but Maria continues with her statement, “But there are clearly things you both don’t know about Joel.” You glare at Maria while the teen remains typically testy, “Oh, like how he used to kill people? We know about that.” Ellie rebukes with vigor and impresses Maria with it somewhat, “So then you understand my concern.” Ellie’s anger flares, “He doesn’t do that anymore.” And Maria is quick to question, “He stopped killing people?” 

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” she asks to which Maria’s lips form a thin line, “Tommy was following Joel. The way you both are.” Seemingly sees Joel as a bad influence, someone who pulls people into his orbit and leaves harm in his wake. “Well, maybe, we’re smarter than Tommy. No offense.” Ellie states and you sense distrust in Maria, “You are definitely smart. Both of you. You would have made a hell of a lawyer, Ellie.” The woman says as she puts away her scissors and stands in front of you and Ellie, “There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.” None of you answer, to which Maria nods, “Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in,” she warns you and Ellie. “The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust.” Ellie clearly resents the advice and Maria’s distrust of Joel, perhaps because she senses there’s a good reason for it and none of you want to admit it.

“You understand?” Maria asks and you both hum in acknowledgment. “Now come on.” She says as she walks to remove the towel around Ellie’s shoulders, “Grab your super fuckin’ eggplant coat.” You allow yourself to laugh at the callback and get up from your own seat, shuffling to put on your gray coat to which you hear Ellie ask, “Where are we going?” Maria smiles, “The movies.” Ellie sighs and ties her hair back, while you say, “I’m actually gonna go for a walk. Get familiar with the surroundings. You okay to go by yourself, Ellie?” The brave teen nods, “Mhm. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Tell me what you think of the movies later, okay?” You say and she smiles and agrees, “Okay.” You tuck your hands in the pockets of your coat, yelling a thank you and goodbye to Maria as you headed outside to the cold winter of Jackson.

MAIN STREET

JACKSON, WYOMING – SUNSET

You tried your best to help around as much as you could with the stables and the children, doing some work to pass the time. The clouds collected again around sunset, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and slowly from a sky devoid of wind, in a gentle universal dispersion more perplexing than the morning's blasts. It appeared to be a part of the growing darkness, the cold night itself falling on you layer by layer.

The amber glow of the string lights, the burn barrels doing their best to keep parts of the area warm, the steam following the wind but the bright glow of the fire emitting from inside shine through. Most people at this hour have already decided to go to the dining hall to watch the rest of the movie, but you continued to wander around the empty main street of Jackson.

The world is an outline of shapes you used to know, hidden in plain sight. The drapes suddenly pulled back slowly, as though pulling a ribbon. You've been distracted, but you're no longer trapped in the static. Despite the fact that your hands are prone to trial and error, you cross your fingers for anything to hold. Here in the shadows of letting go, you can't help but wish for a brighter future. You spot Ellie from a distance, her figure crouched down as she eavesdrops through the door of a nearby workshop. You tilt your head and quietly walk towards her, to which she still turns her head to you, lifting her finger on her lips indicating to be quiet. You decide to follow her request and crouch next to her, hearing Tommy and Joel quietly conversing with each other.

Joel started, “It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish. What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know she saved my life there… from another kid. Birdie got hurt too… Five years ago, I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.” You shudder at the reminder and the two of you listened as Joel broke, bit by bit, his voice started to quiver, “And Birdie had to protect Ellie 'cause I asked her to… and she didn’t even have the experience or skill that I had… I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save her, while I just watched. And today I thought that dog was gonna tear both of ‘em apart because it smelled somethin’ on them.”

“And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid.” Joel’s breathing was ragged as he spoke, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, “You think I can handle things, but… I’m not who I was. I’m weak.” He believes he bears little resemblance to the man he once was or could become. No action hero, he admits to being far less capable of recognizing and reacting to threats than he used to be, and to sometimes being paralyzed by fear. You slowly start to feel your eyes sting again as you hear the tremble in his voice, the brokenness you’re all too familiar with, “Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it’s stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asks, and you listen to the triggered tripwire every time he breathes, the tremble in his voice gives you that he was beginning to cry, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’.” You allow your own tears to fall, covering your mouth to cover your whimpers as you listen to him admit, “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again.” Tommy states, “You want me to take them.” And Joel continues to cry as he says, “I’m just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them.” Tommy tries to call his name to calm him, “Joel.”

“I mean, it’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Joel asks with a clear glaze in his eyes, he begs his younger brother, “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You’re younger than me. You’re still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her. You have to give Birdie… that sweet, smark, and kind girl,  a chance to live a life here. A normal life here. Please.”

You take Tommy’s silence as agreement and the tears fall from your cheeks as you try to muffle your cries. Joel breathes, “And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, on them both, what’s under their skin… they’ll shoot them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

“I’ll take her out at dawn.” You hear Tommy say and Joel sigh of relief. You feel Ellie tug your coat sleeve, indicating you need to leave before they realized you had heard the entire conversation. 

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – NIGHT

None of you spoke as the two of you walk into the night, heading back to the temporary house that they had provided. You opened the door for Ellie and she ran straight up to her room, while you walked up the steps to the master bedroom. You quietly shut your door sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, you sniffed and try to will yourself to stop crying. You stared blankly at the floor as you swung your feet, patiently waiting and deciding what to do next.

The options you had were limited to figuring out how to get back to your previous observable universe or facing the truth about how you felt for Joel and your fondness for Ellie as if she were your own daughter. This meant admitting that you also needed to discuss what you wanted with Joel. To wake up and wage war with this gravity that has been holding you back for almost all of your life, the epiphany of finding so much worth fighting for, and either way all the lines of dominos will fall and cascade.

You were too in your head to hear the shouting from across the hall, the argument between Joel and Ellie, a crucial turning point in the central relationship. You hear the bits and pieces of their yelling and arguing, “You have no idea what loss is,” is a pretty awful thing for him to say. And in both, she tells him that everyone she’s ever cared about has either died or left her, “Everyone—fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is that I would just be more scared.” Joel’s painful response, “You’re right, you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” You flinch at that, “Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways.” Then you hear the loud slamming of the door of Ellie’s room, and your own frown deepens, you feel your heart race, as if you feel the climb of the track of the rollercoaster, building you up and then taking you back. It’s a while before Joel decides to go to the bedroom, he had decided to sit in the living room to remember Sarah one last time before letting her go.

You anticipate Joel’s footsteps, the thud of each step, and hear your door open. Joel finds you sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over, your hands shaking in your lap as you try and hold yourself together. The quiet dim glow of the yellow lamp by the bedside table illuminates your features. You don’t look at him as he calls your name, you choose to look at the floor, he tries again, softer, “Birdie…” You only blink in response, the only indication that you heard him at all, you hear him step a little closer to you, “How much did you hear?” In a barely audible response, you shakily whisper, “All of it.”

Joel began, “Birdie… it’s for the best if we–” You cut him off before he could even finish, sharply turning your head at him as you stood up, “Joel I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.” He feels breathless as he registers what you said, “What?” You blink back the tears and try to look him in the eye, a little more alive as you let the scale tip and feel all of it rushing through you like a restless river stream, you feel your chest expand as you breathe and say, “If you don’t want me… if you don’t feel anything for me. Just say it and tell me now and I’ll figure out how to get back home on my own. ‘Cause I can’t keep going like this… dancing around you and pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

You shake your head, “I’ve spent my whole life asking and searching for the impossible and none of it made any sense to me… And then I… I found you and Ellie. For the first time, I felt whole.” Your hand clenches near your chest as you utter, “Was I just delusional or imagining things? ‘Cause all of this… push and pull is hurting me. Do you even want me?” Joel steps a little closer as he says, “Yes.” And you look up at him and take one step back, “Then… why? And don’t you fucking dare make it an age-gap excuse or I will kick you in the balls Miller.”

He stumbles over his words, “I’m afraid. I’m so, so, afraid Birdie. That I could fail to protect you, Sweet Girl. The light that you give, the kindness you’ve shown, I’m scared I might taint it. Take away something so good in this world. You deserve so much more than what I could give.” Your face pinches in frustration and tears fall down your face, your cheeks warm and eyes puffy from all the sobbing, “Don’t I get a say?” And he’s quick to tell you, “Of course you do.” You scoff and angrily wipe your eyes. You pause and take a good look at the man in front of you, it's a fire and a goddamn blaze in the dark and he started it, you say from across the room, “Then let me choose you, Joel. Please, please, don’t leave me here.” He’s quiet as he takes in your words, and you continue, it’s uncomfortable but right, you say, “I don’t care about what was written about in your history. In the end, I want more than the life that I choose, and I want it to be with you.”

The silence that fills the room is one of heaviness and anticipation. The churning fear that pours out of you, and the inheritance you did not seek or ask for. You watch as Joel breathes heavily at your confession, taking his time to process what you said and felt for him. Someone who he deemed no longer worthy of receiving love. Slowly, you show him who he is and who he could be, and try to initiate the heart, bringing himself to let it open up properly. All of a sudden, you changed his mind and pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

You were on a frequency, the perfect opposite of him. Though he never needed any proof to trust the heart that beats inside of you. He can't keep his head from spinning out of control, but he will try to breathe ‘til it becomes muscle memory. He’s only steady on his knees, but maybe with you, he’ll one day stand on his own two feet. To struggle gracefully and let the scaffolding inside of him be strong enough to hold his tired body up once more.

He licks his bottom lip out of nervousness, and directly looks you in the eye, “I want you, Birdie.” You feel the rush of heat through your body, and stutter, “W-What?” His gaze darkens as he looks at you with need and desire, seemingly made up his mind to just give in, to let himself want and need you. “I said, I want you Birdie. Will you be mine?” He takes a step closer to you and you stay frozen, eventually, he’s towering over your frame, his eyes so dark you can no longer see the honey-brown eyes you were familiar with. You can’t help it. You’re drawn in by the force and pressure of the tempest building in those damnable eyes. Your heart is loud as a drumline, the thumping noise and heat in your ears as you feel the magnetic pull into his warmth, you feel his breath against your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

That’s all it took, and with slow deliberation looks at you up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, though it must take only seconds. The air between you crackles, and you want to move toward him, to close the gap between you. But you stay rooted to the spot, waiting for him. He lingers for a moment on your lips before finally lifting his head to meet your eyes, and his lips meet yours. You didn’t grow up, we grew in, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yins and yangs. You kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into your inhale. You could have survived underwater or outer space, breathing only the breath you traded.

You felt his warm rough large hands bring one hand to your waist and the other to cup the side of your cheek as he kissed you. You felt the tickle of his facial hair on your cheek, and each breath and groan vibrated throughout your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers rhythmically through his salt-and-pepper hair. Happily sighing breathlessly as he continues to kiss you dizzy. Like a whiskey, you can feel it he hits so strong but tastes so sweet.

The rush and thrill consumed you, the slick wetness between your thighs and his hands moving to cup and grab at your ass causing you to gasp in pleasure, to which Joel decides to pull your bodies closer ‘til no space lies in between. His presence was too powerful, his scent too all-consuming. It crowded your lungs, filling them with clean earthiness and rich spices. When you were around him, it was easy to lose myself, no matter how upset you were.

When he carefully dropped himself to the ground, the movement was both proud and obedient. His breath brushed over your skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers ran down the back of your leg, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Your thoughts were jumbled, but you had enough sense to realize this wasn't about sex. It was all about being vulnerable. It was a landmark event disguised as insignificant and distilled into one phrase. “Yes.” That was both demand and submission, a groan and a gasp. Joel exhaled. He carried you to the plush bed in the center of the room, appreciating everything you could give him. Clothes were quickly removed, and he stripped you down to your barest form while he kept his boxers on, an evident hard-on showing but choosing to take care of you first.

His palms burned as they parted your thighs. He’d barely touched you, and you were already on fire. You tipped your head back, drowning in arousal, heat, and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up your thigh. His stubble rasped against your skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down your spine. As he separated your thighs, his palms seared. He hadn't even touched you yet, but you were still immediately burning. As he nibbled his way up your thigh, you threw your head back, reveling in pleasure, heat, lust, and the devotion of his touch.

“I'm sorry I offended you…” A gentle kiss at the fine line where your thigh meets your leg and persistent heat. “For attempting to drive you away…” Your underwear was removed and tossed to the side as he softly stroked your clit with his tongue. When he dragged your clit into his lips and sucked, his abrasive words mingled with your scream. Your body arched away from the bed. He began to worship you with his lips, hands, and tongue as your hands dug into his hair and you could barely hang on. Joel was rigid but beckoning. Delicate but sinful. You felt a new rush of pure sensation with every movement. Your chest and the base of your spine are both under pressure at the same time. You were soaring high solely on passion and desire, out of breath. He backed away and lightly touched your delicate clit with his teeth. He inserted two fingers into you and plunged and curled them as you wilted carelessly.

Your body was familiar to him. Knew precisely what you wanted, how to operate it like a well-tuned guitar, and even what buttons to press and where to press them. He stroked your G-spot while simultaneously pressing his thumb into your clit. When Joel stood up, his chest heaving, the strain was dizzying as your orgasms ripped through you and your moans were still echoing in the air. He gently kissed your lips as he leaned forward on top of you, bracing his hands on each side of your head.

When you kissed him and cherished the flavor of the kiss, leisurely threads of need twisted inside you. Like desperation flavored with desire and soothed with compassion, robust and rich. You explored and licked the inside of his mouth as you panted. He moaned in hunger and want, “Birdie…” Your hands roamed, your hearts pounding in sync and your kisses growing in intensity until the heat became too much to bear. 

He took off his boxers and you flipped both of you over with the help of gravity, and you gradually sank into him, taking him in, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. Hitting deeper, and tasting sweeter. You rocked against Joel as his hands held onto your hips. A delightful pressure swelled inside of you, rising higher and higher until your head was distorted with lust. Sweat misted your skin. Moans filled the air. He was certainly straining to hold back, but he made no move to take control as you both experienced toe-curling orgasms at the same time. When Joel brought you down for a kiss, the second, smaller climax that the overpowering intimacy of the moment had triggered was still reverberating through you.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you pull away from the kiss and look at Joel, who’s heavily panting, breathless, and in awe of you. Joel flips you both over, and your back hits the mattress. He kisses you again, still, inside of you, you are still sensitive from your previous orgasm and cry out, “I can’t…” He pants and groans, “Yes you can sweet girl. You can do it. One more for me Birdie.” He’s hitting deeper and quicker as you try to squirm away from him but all he does is pin you down, grabbing your hands to lock them above your head, causing you to scream and cry out in pleasure. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” He praises, and everything feels and sounds amplified, every thrust his hips make, the sounds of slick wet skin slapping together, each grunt and moan mixing and blending between you both finally brings you and him over the edge. He pulls out and paints your stomach while you clench and moan throughout your release.

He folds over atop you, his weight is a welcoming feeling, like a large protective blanket. You’re running your fingers through his hair as he continues to catch his breath and you hum happily, “You good cowboy or do you need a wheelchair?” He grunts, “Haven’t done that in a while. Cut the man some slack.” You laugh loudly and kiss the side of his forehead and he sighs with contentment. After a while, he rolls off of you, pulling you closer to his side, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, “I’m goin’ to get a clean towel to clean us up.” You nod as he gets up, walks over to the bathroom, comes back with a clean rag, and wipes off the slick between your thighs and stomach.

He sets the cloth aside and climbs back in bed with you, tossing the blanket over both of your bodies, gripping your hips, and pulling you close. You kiss him again, just because you can and both of you are smiling widely at each other. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you place your forehead on top of his, and Joel grumbles, “I should have pulled out earlier.” To which you yawn, “I have an IUD, it’ll expire in ten years.” Joel’s mouth opens, “You have a… oh right.” You laugh, “Yep. So I can keep riding you, my cowboy.” He smacks your ass and kisses you again as you yelp in surprise, “Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” You roll your eyes in response but smile up at him.

The quiet between you two is comforting and allows you to rest your eyes, no awkwardness, just a blistering moment of peace. The night sky once ruled your imagination and you used to turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, you thought you'd never find him and convinced yourself that you would never find him.

Then suddenly, he saw you through telescopes and calculations, the far was pulled so near. You opened your eyes to find yourself under his warm gaze, trying to memorize every feature as if you were constellations in the night sky. But the looming threat that hangs over you makes an appearance in the dark corner of the back of your mind, you whisper, “Joel.” He hums in acknowledgment and you continue, “You should give Ellie a choice. She also has every right to choose too.” He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs agreeing, “Yeah… Been thinking about it a while ago before you jumped my bones.” You smack his shoulder, “I did not!” To which he kisses you breathlessly, “I’ll give her the choice tomorrow.” You nod and cup the side of his face and he says to you so quietly, “We have a long way to go.” To which your eyes softened and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yes, but look how far we’ve come.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – EARLY MORNING

In the morning you don’t say it as both of you wake up to your bodies closely tangled with each other. His heavy arms are wrapped around your waist and his legs are inserted with yours as he kisses the back of your neck. Continuing to worship your entire being. You both had woken up early, sharing the water in the shower, to which you had both agreed you needed to save water, but it was just an excuse to keep touching each other.

By the time you both got out of the hot shower, you both got dressed and made your way to the stables. The chirping of birds brings you to smile at yourself as you brush your horse, preparing to leave. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks the both of you, causing you to look away from the task and tilt your head and smirk as Joel replies, “No. We came here to steal the horses and go.” To which Tommy says, “I woulda given you them.” And Joel replies with, “I know,” He sniffs and walks to Ellie before continuing, “Anyway… that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess… you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy…” It’s no surprise that Ellie shoves her bag at Joel, “Let’s go.” He blinks and you laugh as he answers, “Okay.”

Both of you exit the stables with your horses, Joel helps Ellie mount his horse and you mount your own horse. “General direction?” Joel asks his brother, “Head southeast til you hit I-25. It’s right off the interstate. Shouldn’t be hard to miss.” He nods at Tommy before they both pull each other into a hug. They pull away and Tommy says, “There’s a place for you here… All three of you.” Joel gruffly says, “Countin’ on it.” And he spots Tommy’s rifle swung across his shoulder, “Can I borrow that?” Tommy nods, “Yeah.” But Joel continues to talk, “‘Cause Maria took mine.” Tommy throws him a look, “I already said yes, Joel. Adios, big brother.”

The large wooden gate’s latch is lifted open as your two horses trot through the snow. Exiting the safe, gated, community of Jackson. Your journey continues through the wilderness of Wyoming. The cold chilly air creates goosebumps at the back of your neck as you ride your horse past the tall emerald-green trees.

After a couple of hours of riding, Joel decides to teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. The sound of loud gunshots rings out as Ellie misses the main target. She sighs and Joel comments, “Wide right. You’re flinchin’.” You stand behind the two, enjoying the view of Joel and Ellie having some time together. Ellie shakes her head at him, denying, “The target’s too small.” Joel harrumphs at her, “I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” She does as she is told, and said, “I am not flinching.” Joel hums, “Mm-mhm.” Ellie doesn’t let up, “The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said and Ellie gives it to him and whines, “It doesn’t aim right.” Joel only hums again, “Mm-hmm.” And Ellie frowns as she lifts her binoculars, “You’ll see.” They swap places and Joel grunts as he adjusts the rifle, “A deep breath in, slow breath out.” The girl sighs and Joel glances behind him to look at you, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” Your face warms at the memory of what happened last night and what he could be insinuating. You try to hide your smile, he winks at you and then looks to the scope, his voice getting deeper, “Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” Ellie drops her binoculars and groans, “You gonna shoot this thing or get Birdie pregnant? ‘Cause holy shit you guys were loud.” You choke on air at the same time Joel looks at Ellie shamelessly before looking back at the scope with his finger on the trigger. Ellie shakes her head, continuing to be in denial, “It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right.” A gunshot rings out, and it's a perfect headshot. “You dick.” Ellie says while Joel just smirks smugly and turns to look at you, “Birdie would know.” You throw your head and hands up in exasperation, “I fuckin’ can’t with you two.”

Wind bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. The horses trot through the snow, as the three of you make your way to the University of Eastern Colorado. The silence is no longer present, only filled by Ellie’s questions and Joel's answers. You occasionally input your own thoughts and ideas, correcting Joel when needed, but otherwise, you let yourself watch them form a connection that Joel was so afraid of.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?” Ellie asked, and Joel replies, “No. The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.” Ellie hums, “Which one were you?” And you hear Joel reply, “Neither. I just did my job.” To which you chuckled, knowing that Joel has always tried to stay neutral in anything, it’s more efficient that way.

“Which was… building?” Ellie asks, and Joel confirms her guess, “That’s right. Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called ‘contractors’.” The teen mocks his voice, trying to deepen it, “The contractor. That’s pretty cool.” Joel smiles, his lips quirking a bit to the right, “Yeah. We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.” You rolled your eyes at Joel, letting him off the hook and not wanting to correct him at all.

The days go by and you three have been closer than ever. Joel and Ellie discuss the basics and rules of football while you hum to yourself the new song stuck in your head. Enjoying the sight of Joel and Ellie laughing and smiling over mundane topics, feeling your heart more full than ever before. A part of you that had been missing so long, a family you didn’t even know existed, a family you now found.

Further down the road, you pass by the sign indicating to take the I-25. “Well, how ‘bout that? Made it in five days.” Ellie adds, “Easy days. I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.” Joel’s mouth curls downwards, “Still time to find out.” To which Ellie mimics his baritone voice, “Still time to find out,” she then creepily whispers, “The Contractorrrr.”

The horses snort and huff as its hooves clop and trot on the pavement of the road. You make your way to the entrance of the deserted university, Ellie says aloud, “Home of the Big Horns. What does that mean?” And you answer, “It was their team mascot. It’s a kind of sheep.” Ellie smiles up at Joel, “Oh, see? One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies, though.” He forms a hypothesis, “They’re probably in the middle. Safer.” He nods and leads, “This way.”

Joel has his rifle ready with one hand on the reins. The campus is eerily empty and quiet as your horses trot on the grounds. “So these places… people would live here and, like, what? Got to classes and stuff?” And you nod, “Yup. Sometimes even do research, like me.” She points out, “Even though they were adults.” Yours and Joel’s voices blended together as he answered, “Sort of adults.” While you said, “They were fake adulting.”

“I think it was just as much about partying and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else. Figuring what they wanted to do with their lives.” Joel plainly puts, and Ellie chuckles, “What they wanted to do with their lives.” To your happy surprise, your ears perk up when Joel says, “So I’ve been thinkin’.” You and Ellie urge him to continue, “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?” And Ellie nods, “That’s the deal.” He faces the road ahead with a gaze so soft you barely recognized him, “Well… when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” Ellie laughs while you smile widely at him, teeth showing and cheeks pinched upwards, the kid says, “Shut up.” While you say, “Come on Cowboy, let’s hear it. Serenade me.”

“No, you’re both already laughin’.” He grumpily replies, his eyebrows knitted together, and both you and Ellie protest, “Well, you’re singing for me later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you could do for me.” Joel relents, “Fair enough. Birdie, what about you? Have you changed your dream yet?”

You smiled at the two people you’d gotten close with over the past few months, the unlikely bond you now were a part of, “I have everything I need right here, what else would I need to dream about?” you said. The two of them looked at you, wide-eyed and breathless at your statement. How funny it is to think, we only notice light when darkness crashes against it. The melody you carry is the strength while they come undone and the aftermath that makes them new.

Content with your answer, you trot forward with your horse and you three stumble upon a troop of monkeys that presumably escaped from a lab, Ellie exclaims excitedly, “Are those monkeys?” The troop proceeds to run away as Joel says, “Must be from the old labs.” The young girl laughs, “Look at them go.” Joel glances at her and asks, “First time seein’ a monkey?” Ellie parrots as a reply, “First time seein’ a monkey.”

“Lookit.” Joel points out to spot a Firefly symbol, “Here we go.” Ellie says, and your head in the direction of the research lab. As you arrive at what looks to be the entrance to the lab, “Guard stations.” Ellie states and Joel hums, “Mhm. No guards.” Ellie is unnerved and wary, she asks to take out her gun, and Joel allows it.

You dismount your horse and tie it to the tree, Joel and Ellie do the same. You arm yourselves as you walk inside the lab. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the deserted building, you look to the ground to see documents and masks littering the concrete floor. “There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie says looking at the test tubes and you spot a brown file on top of the metal trolly. You lift the cover of the folder, peeking at the papers, your eyes skimming over the words while lifting up the yellow sheet of paper, “This is a packing list. They moved out of here.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow, “They just left?”

And on cue you hear the sound of metal clanging from upstairs, your heads whip up in the direction of the noise, and Ellie remarks, “Maybe not all of them.” Joel takes the lead as you make your way up the stairs, hearing the clanging sound getting louder. Joel finds the specific door to where the noises were coming from, and he readies his pistol, slowly pushing the door open, slightly creaking as it does, to be followed by a high-pitched screech.

Two monkeys hop out of the room through the window, screeching at you for disturbing them. You all lower your weapons and survey the area. You snort at the fact it was so anti-climactic for nothing, Joel utters, “Well… at least it ain’t Clickers.” And Ellie mumbles, “Yeah, no Fireflies either. Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.” You and Joel sense her disappointment, her need for reformation, and ways she could be better in her mind.

You look through the medical equipment and research notes, trying to look for clues to where the group of researchers transferred. Joel approaches the large wooden corkboard, a map of the United States is on display along with notes pasted on the side. You and Ellie walk up next to Joel to analyze the pins pushed in the lines that trace along the roads leading to the center. “That’s where they went?” Ellie said, pointing out St. Mary's Hospital, located in Salt Lake City, Utah. Joel nods, “All the pins lead there. Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather… better facilities? I don’t know.” The joy in you vanishes against your will. The light goes out and your heart goes still, and just like that, you believe in ghosts.

But then, the trio hears voices. Looking out the window, Joel sees four men armed with weapons, they were raiders. You were weighed down by dread, the flutter of fear in your stomach causes your palms to sweat and tremble. You needed to get out of here and fast. Joel quietly tells you both, “Out the back.” You run down the steps and find the back door, your guns are drawn as you stealthily make it back to your horses, staying ever vigilant. You’re a few steps away from your horses, Joel turns to you both asking in a hushed tone, “Ready?” And you both nod, “Yeah.”

You run to your own horse while Ellie and Joel untie theirs. Something caught your eye in your peripheral vision, a blur of a shadow, and you turn to see a man carrying a baseball bat, lifting it while running at Joel. Ellie screams his name out while you ran towards the attacker, the baseball bat breaks as he tries to hit you but instead strikes a tree. You didn’t think, you just acted, protecting the two people who kept you safe for the majority of your journey. Shoving him with as much force as you could, the raider hits the tree, and Joel comes to your aid, grabbing the raider to break the man’s neck.

You didn’t even realize it until Joel had turned around, in the struggle, the sharp wooden hilt of the bat is stuck inside his abdomen, blood seeping out through the jacket. Ellie’s eyes grow wide in horror and Joel looks down, and grunts as he pulls out the sharp hilt of the bat, you scream, “No, don’t!” But you were too late, and Ellie yells your name, “Birdie you’re also bleeding!” You look down at your own abdomen to find a large slash across it, the maroon blood dripping on the freshly fallen snow, you direct Ellie, “Get Joel on the horse now. We need to leave before…” You hear yelling from a distance and you aim and shoot at the raiders with one hand as the other clutches your stomach while Ellie helps Joel up and back onto the horse.

You use all the strength that you have and pull yourself up to your horse, following Ellie as she shoots them back with you, she yells, “Get back!” And you three were in time to get away from all the other raiders coming. After a few minutes, you three have managed to make it to a safe distance from the attackers, “They’re not following us, I think we’re safe.” Joel doesn’t reply, and Ellie voices her concern as her voice rises as she says yours and Joel’s name.

He’s the first one to collapse from his horse, and you go toppling down as well. You feel the plush landing of the pile of snow, Ellie immediately comes both to your sides, and she says in distress, “Fuck! Shit, no, no no.” The cold weather mixed with the blood loss you were both dealing with were not the best conditions for either of you. “Joel, Birdie, open your eyes come on.” You bring your tired eyes to the girls and cough out to Ellie, “Place pressure on his abdomen and drag him using his sleeping bag, the rope, and the horse Leave me here and find someplace warm.” Ellie can feel her eyes sting and her vision goes blurry, it feels like bittersweet poetry. You softly grab your hand, “Listen to me. Ellie.” She tries to shake her head but you gritted your teeth, the adrenaline had begun to fade and you were beginning to feel the sharp pain across your stomach, you grunt and squeeze her soft small hands, “Ellie, remember what I asked you to promise? Go. Please, save him.”

It had been a campfire night out in the woods at the university and Joel had fallen asleep again during watch. You had both been talking about mundane things, to your hobbies and what you missed about home, to ask about what her life was like in FEDRA school, at one point you realized that there would be a difficult decision to make and that you needed to prepare her just in case it might occur. You didn’t memorize everything from the game, but you knew damn well there would be a possibility that you and Joel might get injured and Ellie would have to choose.

You grab her hand, abruptly stopping her from her previous sentence, and look her in the eye, “Ellie. There will be a time when you have to choose between me and Joel. In the event we both get badly injured, you need to save Joel, no questions asked.” The teen tries to protest but you silence her, leaving no room for argument, “Joel will protect you better than I ever could, we both know that. You need him more than me, I’ve been alone for almost all of my life… this is nothing new, but you… you are something so special. You must choose Joel for your sake, do you understand?” Ellie’s lips form a thin line, and stubbornly she shakes her head, “No. I’ll save you both. Just you watch.” Your eyes soften at her naiveness and hope, “You can’t save everyone, Ellie. So, I know it’s unfair to ask you this, but I need you to promise me to save him when it comes down to it.” Her eyes begin to water as she reluctantly tells you, “Okay.”

In a voice so broken and vulnerable, you hear Ellie whisper into the cold air as she puts pressure on Joel’s wound and looks at both of you, “I can’t fuckin’ do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel, Birdie.” You give her a small smile, “Ellie, sometimes, just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. Keep going, Ellie.” She sniffs and she lets tears slip down her cheeks, you keep smiling as you use the rest of your strength to lift your hand to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ellie. This was where I was meant to be. Thank you, Ellie, remember that you are loved.”

You feel your vision begins to fade and drop your hand from Ellie’s cheek, letting your head rest on the plush snow, no longer looking at the teen, you tearily look up to feel the snowflakes gently fall on your face. You distantly hear Ellie drag Joel and tie him up on the sleeping bag as a makeshift sled. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and start to droop, you turn your head to see Joel struggling to open his eyes, seeing your freezing, bleeding-out body staining the white cold snow. Joel cries out your name, pleading, “Birdie. Wait. No. Please…”

You look up at the bright gray sky, blinking and slowly beginning to only hear muffled sounds. Your horse decides to rest next to you, knowing what was about to happen, cuddling your bleeding-out body, and staying with you til the end. You decide that this was the best way to go, protecting and shielding the people you loved as much as you could. So you hum carols softly, as sweet as you know, a prayer that our burdens will lift as you go.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

AGAIN MY BAD FOR THE HUGGGEEE DELAY – I 1000% blame the jet lag since I just flew out to somewhere on the East Coast! Sorry, ya’ll! T^T (Also the fuckin 5 hours of sleep, I am running on fumes rn)

YAY YOU KISSED AND SLEPT TOGETHER WOW GOOD JOB

UR OFFICIALLY HIS GIRL *confetti*

Holy fucking shit that was sO HARD TO WRITE

OKAY NOT BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFY WRITING IT CHILL– its um, cuz, miss gorl here has never been properly kissed or um had a boyfriend lol so take a freaking guess to why

So writing a romance scene reALLY REALLY TESTED MY KNOWLEDGE, PATIENCE, AND HECKING ALL THE ROMANCE BOOKS I’VE READ PLEASE I WAS CLAWING MY WAY THROUGH THE ENTIRE TIME

I hope it wasn’t too awful or unrealistic :,))

HORRAY FOR FINALLY FACING YOUR FEAR AND VOICING OUT UR NEEDS AND WANTS GOOD JOB HERE HAVE A COOKIE

FUCK JOEL GOT STABBED MF

YOU ALSO GOT INJURED?? AGAIN?? WTF IS WRONG WITH U *bonk* ARE U DEAD OH NO? WTH!?!?1

ALSO MF PEDRO PASCAL IF I EVER MEET YOU I MIGHT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF YOU AFTER YOU DESCRIBED PTSD SO WELL WTF– ahem, I have PTSD and I’ve never seen me represented properly in any television series or movies. It’s always (usually) war veterans yk (CALM DOWN— CHILL PRETTY VALID AND PRETTY DAMN FUCKIN TRAUMATIC) But as someone who has PTSD and yk hasn’t been to a literal war it’s a bit harder to connect or relate to it (im not fucking whining, I’m just telling you my experience with PTSD) But the way Pedro showed it— fuck man. It was like staring at a mirror. My own brokeness represented in one episode. I felt so seen for the first time.

BUT THIS ONE, MF PEDRO U DESERVE ALL THE AWARDS

yay for Maria and Tommy! Such cuties congrats on the baby!!

someone should probably help me find a boyfriend— idk i Need research for smut :DD (this is a joke please don’t)

This chapter was wAYYYU more personal and intimate to write about. I just needed to do this right for my sake and others. 

Sorry for the delay! The smut part was a little bit intimidating to write since yk I have zero experience with it LMAO

Thank you for sticking with me and I look forward to all of your comments and feedback! It gives me an idea if im doing this right and opportunity to connect with all of you! I LOVE YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH AND OFF TO EP 7 I GO AHHHHH

Grace

[olenvasynyt]

A Court of Embers and Sunlight: A Lucien backstory: Chapter 8

Summary:

It has been eighty years since the end of the Human War, and a delicate, tenuous peace has grown in Prythian. But as an ancient rivalry between two High families suddenly arises, the consequences of the War are pondered, and painful memories are stirred up for members of the Vanserra family, including Eris Vanserra and the Lady of Autumn. But being sixty and the youngest of seven brothers, Lucien Vanserra is eager to avoid a lot of things. Including the consequences of the War. Haunted by secrets and keen to avoid the Forest House, Lucien allows his errancy to lead him to Prythian’s Summer beaches, Winter lakes, and Spring fields until he finds himself stumbling down a path to a female he never expected. One who lights up his dark, rotting world like dappled sunlight through the leaves.

Read Ch 8 Ao3

Start from the beginning

Excerpt:

It didn’t take long for Lucien to spot him; tucked away in a lonely corner was Tamlin, with a dark grimace on his face and his hands behind his back as if they were shackled.

Lucien snorted.  He looked like a prisoner of war, chained between the refreshment table and a cluster of gaudily dressed courtiers.  Brushing past the crowd of faeries on the ballroom floor and scooping up two glasses of wine, he made his way to his friend.  Andras followed him like a shadow, either as a cover or to remind him to behave.  

Tamlin gave him a single glance and looked away to the farthest end of the ballroom instead, ignoring the glass he held out for him.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

Lucien ignored that remark.  “It’s good to see you too, Tam.  Though I figured you would be half-wasted by now.”

“Need a clear head.  I’m on duty right now.”

He looked his friend up and down.  The only sign that he was on duty was the sword and knife that hung at his belt, though there was no Illyrian-style bandolier in sight.  “Your father put you on duty during your mother’s tea party?” he asked, amused.  “Was it punishment for something?”

“He requested it,” Andras said quickly.  He gave Tamlin a look, which Tamlin ignored.

Lucien guessed it was to avoid his brothers and father.  “Are your brothers and Euen here?” he asked mildly, looking around at the crowd.  “Or are they causing chaos and destruction elsewhere?”

Tamlin’s jaw twitched.  “They are on a hunting party with a few courtiers.”

“Some delicious violence before the main event.”

Tamlin lips pulled tighter in an attempt to hide whatever emotion rattled around in his blonde head, but he didn’t answer. 

[pursuitseternal]

“Something:” an update to “Our Blood is Thicker,” 🐦‍⬛💞🦇a little something for the Anniversary of BG3

Ascended Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | T | 1.6K

Summary: One year since she found her betrothed in her path, Cordehlia reminisces with heartache and happiness in equal measure.

CW: mentions of their past griefs and traumas, nostalgia

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterlist

One year… a full year since that nautilus crashed, a year since she found her once betrothed elven lordling in her path. Had it been only a year since her heart rent itself apart at finding him again and let their love stitch it back together?

It had also been a year, then, since her life hung precariously in the balance, a life and a love deemed worthy of seven-thousand and seven souls to be his eternal bride. The passage of time had taken their hopeful, youthful Star Elf selves and broken them, refined them, and made them into the adamantine weapons of power they now were—The Ascendant and his Consort. It was days like this, when the summer heat was unbearable along the Sword Coast that she longed most for the emerald foliage and canopies of the Yuirwood.

She longed for the carefree playing in streams and knolls, in mud and sunshine. She missed his violet eyes and her star-kissed silver ones, those long nights of pleasure on the mossy banks of the forest, the feeling of their warm bodies moving more fluidly than the streams just beside them.

She missed their parents, the wizened, knowing smiles her father would give, even the subtle looks of approval his mother, the High Lady, would sneak her way when they were alone.

In all her decades of darkness, pursuing countless foes and splashing herself in their blood, she never once felt homesick. Love sick, yes. Grief stricken, yes. But it wasn’t until his love for her thawed the chill of her hatred and pain that she remembered home.

And now, she lived in a luxury not of her own heritage. Her skin was cold and her teeth were sharp. Her heart no longer raced with the pleasure he coaxed from her still, and it didn’t rap against her ribs in battle or flutter nervously when Astarion smirked at her. It was probably for the best that their past was nearly as eradicated as their own hopes for a life among their people.

She knew their village had left, that everyone journeyed to other reaches of Faerûn or other realms after the death of their High Lord and Lady… their murder in the City and the ultimate decimation of their line had been exacted.

They had been robbed of their rulers, their line… and their prince. Astarion.

It was all pain that should have been so easy to forget in their palace gardens. Leaning against the great oak tree at its heart, she sat with her skirts fanned, a book on her lap. This late summer sun warmed her too much; even back home, she preferred the cool caress of shade.

Not like him, her love, her lord. He stood near her, gazing down into the pond that collected the bubbling streams of water from the fountain of pure gold. Opulently, impeccably dressed, his silk jacket and pants caught the breeze making that cream, pearlescent material shimmer in the sun. But the gold and silk, the water or the sun itself, none of it was as radiant as him. His fearsome, handsome reflection no doubt shined up at him at his feet, that rakish tilt of his brows, those full, smirking lips rippling and paling in comparison to their original.

He was magnificent, glorious…. Ruthless to his enemies and adoring to his Bride.

The Vampire Ascendant.

It was a far more intimidating title than a mere elven High Lord. Astarion traded in being a prince for the mantle of a Vampire Lord, his ancestral manor now overshadowed by the walls of the Crimson Palace. His wealth was uncountable and ever-growing, untold powers at his command, gifts from the hells and magic beyond what any of the undead should wield.

It was what he deserved after centuries of suffering. But…

What she wouldn’t give for a blanket spread on their mossy bank in the forest, a single bottle of Ithbank to pass between them, the filtered sun above the foliage kissing their naked skin. She closed her eyes, letting the bark of the oak score into her skin through her waif-like dress. The scents of the forest, of nature, came back with instant recall, that soft gurgle of the fountain barely different in pitch from the stream in the glade where Astarion had taken her—

“Cordehlia,” he breathed her name, lips brushing her right ear. A warm hand on her cheek turned her face into his as her crimson eyes fluttered open once more. “My love,” he purred so tenderly, the warm pad of his thumb caressing the gentle arch of her cheek.”Tell me, what do you desire?” his voice was low, a gentle rumble in his chest as he poured all his love down their bond. “What can I do for my dearest?”

“It is nothing,” Cordehlia smiled softly; pulling him to sit beside her, so close their bodies flowed nearly seamlessly from one to the other. “Just thoughts of…”

“Home,” he interrupted. A subtle smirk tweaked his mouth just enough to show a fang. “It’s been a year, you know, since we defeated the Brain…”

His lips whispered against hers. And she whispered back. “A year since I found you on the beach and nearly trussed you up to gut you, you mean…”

“Oh,” he laughed with a husky giggle, “feel free to truss me up any time just to relive it, my love.”

Cordehlia sank her fangs in his bottom lip, making him laugh properly. “Be thankful I let you live long enough to fall back in love with me.”

Astarion broke from their kiss. Where she expected to see that impish glint, that rakish smirk, Cordehlia only saw purity, sincerity. Love. “I am thankful. Everyday,” his words so quiet, even her keen hearing struggled. “Come,” he stood swiftly, pulling her gracefully to her feet. “There’s… something I’d like to show you…”

Making their way inside, they hurried down corridor after cooridor. That nostalgia only deepened. Memories flashed of how these halls festered in darkness and rotted with wickedness under Cazador. She could still smell the dank of the dungeon, still recall the pain of that bastard’s bite as he tried to kill her…

A year ago. A year that passed faster than a blink of an eye. If time was nothing to her existence as an elf, it was less than nothing now that she was undead.

Now that she wandered the bright scarlet and golden halls of their palace. Now that she held the hand of her Sire, their hearts beating as one as his Bride.

She smiled at the word. Bride.

Feeling her thoughts, Astarion paused at the threshold to their rooms. “Oh yes, my Bride, don’t think I didn’t get you a little something to commemorate our union.”

“Always one to spoil me,” she shook her head, leaning in to taste his kiss once more. A sly smile twisted his lips as they pressed together.

The door creaked on its hinges, opening to reveal their bedroom, bathed in blue green light from their windows. Their sanctuary.

Her gaze instantly settled on the box on their bed, a small wooden chest. A nod of his head, a sparkle of childish delight in his crimson eyes, Astarion pulled her closer to it.

Eager fingers lifted the lid, and Cordehlia’s undead heart burst as if it had stopped beating altogether.

A shining silver war helmet, plates once cracked were soldered back together. Intricate designs of feathers spanned the sides, and a great eagle’s head rested on the crown of the helm. She would recognize it anywhere. She had polished it countless times as an elfling, wearing it in their home to pretend to play soldiers and war… a merry laugh coming from the chair by the fire as he watched on…

“Father,” she choked, her musical voice cracking with grief. “Oh, Father,” she breathed again, reverently stroking the eagle feathers and face that was their namesake, Aquillae. Eagle. That same name shined, etched into the back of the armor: Cassius Aquillae, The Great Eagle. Her eyes leaked the tears she could no longer keep at bay, and two warm arms embraced her from behind.

“Halsin found it,” he explained. “With the Shadowcurse lifted, all manner of relics were found. But he searched with great care for anything of your father’s.” A small laugh sounded in her ear. “My idea, of course. Don’t give the Druid any more affection or credit than he deserves, my love.”

A wet laugh was his reward for his possessive, bratty humor. As always. Astarion reached for the helmet, lifting it out to reveal two more pieces that instantly struck her in the gut.

Sharp pains of grief again. A bright silver locket, inlaid with golden leaves, and a small teal ring, that crest of its signet shining brighter than the gold it was made of. She didn’t need to look closer to know it was a heart and two daggers slicing cross-crossed through it, a pattern of little stars speckling its background.

The Ancunín crest.

His voice was heavy, his own throat bobbing against the back of her head as he reached around to caress the pieces. “Mother’s locket and Father’s ring… I found these in one of… his… vaults in the Counting House. The trophies claimed from Mother and Father’s murder.” Tenderly, he set the helmet back in the box, closing the lid silently. Then, he pulled her stiff, suffering body into his warm embrace. “Those aren’t my gift, don’t you fret.”

“I should hope not,” she forced a aggrieved laugh. “Still it is… good to have pieces of them, their bodies never put to rest,” she whispered into the cream silk of his jacket.

“We are about to correct that,” he smiled into the top of her head, breathing in her scent, wildflowers and moss. “We are going home.”

[quillthrillswriting]

i'm writing in jealous aang AND a sparring scene in the upcoming ch of "the teenager in the iceberg"- y'all kataang stans are eating GOOOOODDD 🤭

in order to placate you lovelies, enjoy a couple short & sweet excerpts!!!

also, i love the way that tiny aang in the header looks like he's desperately trying to seperate jet and katara 😭🤍

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Sokka rose, crossing his arms as his expression shifted to anger. “The traps are Fire Nation. You can tell from the metalwork- no other tribes can achieve seams this flawless without the aid of a Firebender that can bend blue flame.”

Aang’s nose wrinkled as he gently landed next to Katara. “What do the firebenders want with these forest animals?”

“We won’t be sticking around long enough to find out.” Sokka said decisively as the three began to walk back to where they’d left Appa. “As the leader, I say we get walking AQAP.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “AQAP?”

“It means As Quickly As Possible.” Sokka recited the acronym as if it was obvious. “It’s a more efficient method of communication. I call them ‘short-word-quick-talkers.’ Trust me, they’re gonna be very popular.”

Katara and Aang side-eyed one another sceptically before falling into step behind Sokka. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara bent a stream of water from the bottle strapped to her hip, then carefully sent a water-whip straight for their fire, silently proud at how much her late-night practice sessions had allowed her to improve. “Who says you’re qualified to be the boss, all of a sudden?”

“I’m not the boss, I’m the leader.”

Katara scoffed incredulously. “You’re the leader?”

“Naturally.” Sokka puffed out his chest like a peacock pigeon. “I’m the oldest.”

Aang raised an eyebrow, grinning teasingly. “Sokka, I’ve been around for over a century. I have training robes that are older than you.”

Sokka deflated slightly, his shoulders slouching before he managed a retort. “Well, I’m wiser, then. And I have instincts.”

“Ooh, instincts.” Katara wiggled her fingers at him, her voice filled with fake awe. “Please, oh wise leader, share with us your wisdom.”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Down you go,” Jet grinned, self-satisfied and authoritative in his stance. Katara beamed back, her lips parted in an amazed expression, while Aang and Sokka’s features quickly settled into irritation. Before long, an archer and a few other kids dropped from the trees surrounding them, and both Aang and Katara jumped into the fray in response alongside the mismatched gang of weapon-slinging kids. Sokka joined in, his irritation visibly rising as Jet took down each soldier before Sokka could even get close to being in range.

“You snooze you loose, man,” Jet shrugged, his hooks snagging on a man who had been about to grab Katara. “Apologise to the lady.” He smirked, then kicked the man hard, dropping him to the side.

“I had her,” Aang grumbled under his breath, occupied with bending currents of wind to sweep soldiers out of the clearing. Katara furrowed her brow at Aang’s irritation, but decided to note it as something to ask about later. Finally, the remaining soldiers scampered out of the clearing in retreat, their shouts and yelps echoing through the forest. Katara still couldn’t take her eyes off of Jet. He sauntered over to her, a roguish grin on his face as he spoke.

“Hey.” He tossed his hair as he said it, his grin directed entirely at her now, and Katara felt a soft blush spread across her cheeks as she looked up at him. She broke her gaze only to check that Aang and Sokka were okay, and as she looked across the field to Aang…

Was she imagining it, or was his jaw clenching? Was she imagining it, or was his normally approachable expression shifting into a deadpan stare?

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

His gaze flicked from Jet to Katara, to the brush brushing her cheeks, the soft smile of her full lips. He was hit by the thought that he wanted to be there, next to her, in Jet’s place.

What was it about Katara that made Aang feel as though he could only breathe when she was around? 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara was too caught up in her Jet-related nerves to notice the way that Aang’s breathing was coming more quickly, that his fists were quickly clenching and unclenching. She walked towards Aang, who was joined by Sokka, only for Aang’s eyes to flit away every time they met hers. She reached out an arm reflexively, her hand lightly brushing Aang’s bicep as her brow furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright?”

His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite read, and his jaw clenched before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Katara, I just… I need a minute. My judgement is…impaired, right now."

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Would you… would you care to join me for sparring practice, tomorrow morning? Might help you feel a bit safer next time you need to face off against Fire Nation swine.”

Katara smiled back. “I’d like that.” Jet continued to regale her with stories of all he and his fighters had accomplished as of late, but Katara found herself distracted, her gaze wandering over his shoulder every now and then.

It was not lost on her that Aang’s light had stayed on and his curtains drawn until Jet had returned her to her room for the night.

♥ if you want to stick around for this ch to drop, feel free to head over to the work here! ->

[glorious-sunset]

Reflections on Ep. 7 of LBFAD on rewatch

Shuyu Forest, Day 10: Xiao Lanhua (XLH) drew a possessed Yingzhao away from the other fairies but is about to become Yingzhao fodder! (where is her Xilan magic when she needs it?!) Our dashing anti-hero knocks the beast unconscious, saving both of their lives once more! DongFang QingCang (DFQC) can’t believe how close he came to dying again due to the insufferable one-heart curse and XLH’s reckless actions!! Where the hell was Shangque (SQ)?! He is about to kill Yingzhao but XLH stops him. In her gentle way, she purifies Yingzhao of evil qi, heals him, and captures him with a Demon Pill.

As Dieyi lurks in the trees behind them, DFQC, barely glancing in her direction, blasts her shoulder with excruciating Hellfire. DFQC chides XLH for her soft-hearted nature which led to her placing herself in danger. “I will remove this nature from you completely so you won’t be in danger again” he says, intending to add an emotion-repressive component to their regular training sessions. In the past few days, he had spent hours with her every day trying to improve her cultivation and powers, although progress had been slow (as he complained to SQ in ep. 6).

But it is XLH who rubs off on him instead. She explains to him gently that if she and the other fairies hadn’t cared about each other and worked together, Yingzhao would have devoured them all. Placing a soft hand on his shoulder, she says that no matter how dark and painful his past was (she has no idea!), she and others are there to help him through it.

Their tender interlude is interrupted by Changheng (CH) calling for her. XLH entreats DFQC to leave. “If CH sees me with you, he’ll think that I…” “What will he think?” he taunts her with a long stare, feeling irrationally infuriated by her infatuation with CH. “That you’ve been colluding and fornicating with a criminal?” He wants CH to believe that they are lovers, that he has irrevocably claimed her for himself, and she is off-limits to CH forever. The thought is delicious…he wants to kiss her in front of CH right now…

But for now, he lets go of this fantasy and disappears. It is too early to reveal himself to his enemies. A panicked CH grabs XLH’s arms and is relieved she is unhurt (no thanks to you CH! You’re hardly ever there when she’s in danger :P ) Appearing soon after, Ronghao (RH) now knows that XLH, the target of his failed assassination attempt, is CH’s secret crush. Lady Sansheng and Supreme Liyuan (LY) also appear and LY is very suspicious of how exactly XLH managed to subdue the rabid Yingzhao. Her priority is, of course, to protect DFQC, and she refuses to mention his presence there.

But she is worried when RH retrieves the evil qi she had dispelled and LY claims that only members of the Moon Tribe or celestial criminals could have reared such an evil force! Does that mean…that Da Qiang might have been responsible? This seem unlikely to her, but then, who else here could have done it? She does not suspect RH at all – ah RH, you are too good of an actor! Nobody ever suspects you of anything!

Fountain Palace: LY and CH believe there must still be an escaped criminal from Haotian Tower at large, and LY decides to seal off the Heavenly Spirit Lock gate until they are captured. This presents a problem for RH, who is unable to return to Haishi.

Arbiter Hall: That evening, XLH receives a message from Lady Sansheng congratulating her for achieving first place in the fairies’ examination that day! She is overjoyed! :D

Due to use of the evil qi, DFQC has realised that the people of Haishi who tried to kill XLH made another attempt today, and that it is connected to Lady Chidi’s destiny leaf. XLH interrupts his talk with SQ by asking him to join her for a chat. Still suspicious of why he was in Shuyu Forest that day, she asks whether he is connected to the evil qi. DFQC never explains his actions to anyone, and so, his ambiguous denial is not enough to satisfy her. On a side note, he has this habit down to a fault! After returning to Cangyan Sea, he doesn’t explain to Xunfeng, or the elderly lady of the hunters’ camp, or to anyone, what he had been up to for the past 30,000 years. Xunfeng believes he had been living in Shiyuntian all that time, as he challenges XLH in DFQC’s body in ep. 12: “you’ve lived in Shiyuntian for 30,000 years. Have you forgotten our rules now?”

But for the first time, DFQC’s evasion backfires on him, as XLH takes him by the hand and uses the Xilan seal to make him turn himself in! He is forced to compromise his usual behaviour and explain that he had been in Shuyu forest to protect her. Yingzhao would have killed her if he hadn’t been there! “If you die, I will die too. Your life is as important to me as my own life” he tells her resentfully. Note that the value of her life to him changes over the series. At the start, it is equal to the value his life only because of the physicality of the one-heart curse. Soon after, it is equal to his life due to his growing love for her. But soon, it surpasses even that, and her life becomes much more valuable to him than his own life! In ep. 26, he tells her not to use her blood to heal or revive others, not even himself. When she dies, he cannot bear to live, despite no longer being bound by the Xilan curse. And by the end, he sacrifices all that he is…his life, his spirit, his very existence, and is prepared to sacrifice even the memory of his existence…to save her.

XLH is overwhelmed by his sweet proclamation and by the fact that he has saved her life yet again. As they sit down to tea together in their usual idyllic alcove, she reminisces about the joyful memories they have created together over the past ten days or so. Just yesterday, during one of their regular teatime chats, she had happily recounted to him how she had seen snow fall in Haishi for the first time recently. To her delight, he had created snow around Arbiter Hall for her, and a little campfire to warm themselves by as they watched the falling snowdrifts together. In this little alcove, they had eaten her flower cakes together every day, both having a fondness for sweets, and curled up with books next to each other. He had helped her with chores around Arbiter Hall whenever she had asked, folding sheets and blankets with her and even cleaning (she mentions in ep. 9 that she got him to do chores). In the lead up to the examination, he had spent hours with her every day trying to train her powers – something nobody else had ever cared enough to do. With her damaged roots, no one else had thought she could improve, except for him – he was the only one who believed in her.

Every day, Da Qiang had collected dew for her, and taken her to see the sun. Usually for the first rays of sunrise, but sometimes he let her sleep in and took her to see the late morning sun. XLH was not a fast flyer and Yunzhong Water Pavillion was a great distance away, so he would inevitably carry her there and back again ensconced in his strong arms, while she also held onto him. She enjoyed that part very much, although it made her heart race to be so close to him.

But the sweetness of these memories only made her heart ache all the more. It was bad enough that she would have to cancel her result of winning first place in the exam, as she couldn’t accept a result that wasn’t completely her own. In giving this up, she would be giving up the one dream that had kept her going over the past hundreds of years, of working at Fountain Palace. But what was even worse was the thought that one day Da Qiang might be gone. She tried to tell him how she felt, that he was like sugar to someone who was used to taking bitter medicine. She wished he could stay with her forever, that she would never have to taste bitterness again.

DFQC did not quite understand, but she had given him much to think about with her speeches on the value of emotions. As he watched her sleeping that night, a vague memory came to him once more of being tortured to the point of longing for death, to have his emotions removed so he could control Hellfire. He was not fully aware of the reasons for this, but the Moon Tribe had been facing imminent genocide at the hands of Shuiyuntian and their lethal spirit-vanishing arrow formation, to which they had no defence (mentioned in ep. 16). In the end, everything his father had done, to his father’s own unimaginable suffering, had been to save DFQC’s life, as well as the existence of their people, both of which could only be protected through his son’s control of Hellfire.

Haishi: RH, twisted as he is, is trying to remember his beloved Master by forcing another helpless woman to disguise herself as Chidi. His relationship with Chidi was not romantic; rather, he revered her as the magnificent Goddess of War that she was. He had been a blind and unwanted little flute boy, abandoned by his family and by the world, who had condemned him to a miserable death. Nobody had cared to give him a scrap of food or warm clothing against the bitter cold. Lady Chidi had given him a new life, one where he had sight, power, wealth, immortality, and most importantly, was cared for. How could any other woman even come close to his formidable Master? His guards wait in the wings to carry another corpse away the moment the maidservant slips up.

Arbiter Hall, Day 11: XLH finds a firefly in her greenhouse! Luring it with food, similar to her way with Yingzhao, she captures it in the Magical Jade Firefly stone CH had given her. She plans to return it to CH while cancelling her examination result, thus giving up her dreams of both Fountain Palace and of CH. “Everything will return to its original place,” she says sadly but with acceptance.

Yujing: Danyin, in an awesome growth arc, threatens to beat XLH into a pulp if she talks about cancelling her exam result again! As a judge, CH will not hear of it either, and persuades her to keep the Firefly stone.

Haishi: RH, having tricked XLH into purifying evil qi and resurrecting an Ice Jade plant with green Xilan energy, realises that she is the Goddess of Xishan! And also, that she is under the protection of the Moon Supreme, who had used Hellfire on Dieyi, and on inspection, has escaped from Haotian Tower. Our power couple have been discovered! Rotten friend that he is, RH does not tell CH that the woman he loves is actually his fiancée :D Instead, he tells the unconscious body of his Master that they will be reunited soon. The drama doesn’t explain well why Chidi is undergoing mortal tribulations, apart from Taisui saying it will keep her spirit alive (ep. 22). In the novel, however, they are her punishment for reviving RH through unnatural means. Despite her resounding victory over DFQC, the cruel ruler of Shuiyuntian had condemned her to live through 1,000 mortal trials, and in each one, she would be doomed to be murdered by the one she loved D:

Here is a link to my episode 8 review (contains spoilers). All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[masiethewriter]

Honored Eternal Path of Demise CH. 19 - Forest Meeting

Turning around a bit too quickly, Binghe's eyes fall upon the open frame in Shen Qingqiu's hand. He reaches across the table and Shen Qingqiu holds it out for Binghe to grab the note. As he does, the tiniest metal key falls from between the note and picture, landing on the table with a clatter.  "Eh?"

First Chapter ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ AO3 Link

The painting depicts that of a man and a woman standing together. 

The man is what first stands out when entering the room. His clothes mark his high status with a tailored black cloak and matching trousers. The entire outfit is decorated with details of red, simultaneously making him appear fashionable as well as looking like droplets of blood.

Though the reason he is noticeable is not his outfit, but rather the state of his face.

The painting appears to still be in good condition. The frame is golden and shiny as if it is still being cleaned every day. The colored paint is vibrant as if it was just painted on. The canvas strong and flat.

Only his face has become a rotten unrecognizable mess. The paint and cloth molding together like a piece of spoiled meat.

The combination of the spoiled face with the bloodied outfit makes a chill run down the spine of anyone looking upon him.

In contrast, the woman is bright and handsome. Her golden dress fall elegantly down her body, the painter having perfectly caught every wave of the material. Her long dark hair weaved together in an intricate pattern. Jewelry adorn her throat and dress, each gemstone looking as real as if they could be picked out of the painting.

What comes unexpected for a woman like this is the pure aura of strength that surrounds her.

Standing even taller than the man, her back is straight as she looks straight ahead. Her expression is confident and proud, an air of authority to it. There is nothing docile or submissive about her, even the muscles of her arms are visible even through the sleeves of her dress.

While both give quite different impressions, there is no doubt about their relationship as the man embraces the woman, who in turn is embracing her own stomach, heavy and round with child.

There is no doubt this is the lord and lady of the mansion that looks down upon those who enter this room. 

Shen Qingqiu remembers this painting very clearly. In general, he tends to find the paintings in the mansion memorable, usually thanks to the beautiful artwork that would depict them in the game. Quite often they would also stand out having hidden secrets incorporated into them.

This one being no different. This painting being one step in the puzzle needed to get to the shortcut that Shen Qingqiu aims for.

His attention caught on the painting, he does not notice Binghe stepping up to him until a blanket suddenly is thrown over his head. He lets out a surprised "wha-?", which gets interrupted as Binghe immediately begins to rub him roughly with the blanket, the harsh movement an attempt to return warmth to Shen Qingqiu's freezing body. 

Trying to wiggle out of Binghe’s grasp, Shen Qingqiu only manages to free his head from the blanket. Coming face to face with Binghe, the other’s expression is that of worry as he searches Shen Qingqiu's face for any signs of pain. 

The blanket is made of rough wool, scratchy and definitely not made for drying. Binghe is careful not to rub harshly against Shen Qingqiu's burnt arm, but as he looks at the state of the bandages, he does not like what he sees. His careful work has turned into a drenched mess that must be painful against the reddened flesh. 

The state of Shen Qingqiu’s foot looks even worse.

"What happened? How did the trap get triggered?" Binghe asks, his voice sounding lost. 

At the question Shen Qingqiu suddenly remembers. He lifts his hand and the both of them stare down at the note he holds.

This... is so unreal... Shen Qingqiu remembers specifically falling down, barely able to keep his head above water. How in the world has the note not fallen to pieces?? It is just like the drawing in the forest, having been left out in the rain for hours, but easily readable. While the note is dripping with water and has a few smudges along some of the words, even Shen Qingqiu's blurry eyesight can see it is mostly still intact.

Silently Binghe takes the note out of his hand. He looks at it for a moment before he looks back at Shen Qingqiu.

Smack!

Harshly, Binghe hits the table with the note, leaving it there in a crumbled mess. His eyes are shooting lightning as he straightens his back, towering over Shen Qingqiu. Watching him with wide eyes, as Shen Qingqiu sees Binghe open his mouth to speak, he can already guess what he is about to say.

Trying to delay the inevitable, he hurries to interrupt. 

"Okay, listen, I get it, but you have to understand, I had no idea it was a trap! The page was just laying there!" 

"This is the second time you almost died from these notes, Senior! Don't you see you are just putting yourself in danger?!" Stepping closer, Binghe grabs the blanket around Shen Qingqiu, effectively trapping him. Shen Qingqiu isn’t even able to take a single step back, no space for breathing between them.

He understands that Binghe might still be in shock after what just happened, so he tries to argue to his rationality, tone reassuring in contrast to Binghe’s raised voice.

"I didn’t know it was dangerous. It looked no different from the notes in the bedrooms. Since none of those triggered any traps, I did not suspect this one would either. I couldn’t possibly know this one wasn’t safe."

"But why are we collecting the notes in the first place? In what way can they help us as we run for our lives? How can they be used to get us out of here?!"

"I don't know yet, but there must be something. Why else would they just be laying around?"

"Why does there need to be a reason for them laying around?!"

Trying to calm Binghe down, the last words hit Shen Qingqiu like a ball to the face. If it wasn't for Binghe's tight grip on the blanket, he would be stumbling back.

He knows. He knows this makes no sense for Binghe. That without the knowledge of all of this being a video game, Shen Qingqiu's behavior must appear illogical at best and downright suicidal at worst. 

Even Shen Qingqiu is doubting the use of the notes, but why else would they be here? Why else would they constantly stumble upon them? Why else are some of them triggers for traps?

What is the point of them? What is the story? The lore? What can they tell that Shen Qingqiu doesn't already know? Why risk his life for them when he definitely knows the game can be beaten without reading a single page of the diary?

The thing is, Shen Qingqiu is a completionist. And as a completionist, it is just not in his blood to leave obvious collectables laying around when they aren't necessarily dangerous.

For a full minute, Binghe and Shen Qingqiu just stare at each other. Shen Qingqiu has no answer for Binghe's question, but neither is he willing to back down. Instead, he can only look at Binghe with tired eyes.

Without taking his eyes off Shen Qingqiu, Binghe reaches back and grabs the note. Uncrumbling it, he finally looks down. His eyes scan the words, before he reads it out loud.

"The most peculiar thing happened today! I was out collecting mushrooms and I met a little boy! Well, little might not be quite the right word, but his voice sounded young. When I first saw him it looked like he was speaking to himself, but then I found out it was just a little kitten! Once he heard me, he seemed scared at first, but after a few words he calmed down. I have always loved cats very much, so I asked to see the kitten. Once he showed me, I found it was hurt and quite sick. He asked that since I love cats, if there was anything I could do to help it. Of course I couldn't say no to that. So I took the kitten with me, promising to nurse it back to health"

Once he is finished reading, he once again leaves the note on the table. He removes the drenched blanket from Shen Qingqiu, throwing it to the side with a wet splat. He then turns around and wordlessly begins to look through the shelves.

Binghe might be sulking, but Shen Qingqiu on the other hand finally feels the intrigue.

Undoubtedly it was the Killer the maid met must have met. Her descriptions combined with what Shen Qingqiu already knows of the Killers background makes him certain. Though some parts are new. 

Shen Qingqiu has no memory of a kitten mentioned when playing the game? If anything, he would expect the Killer to hurt animals as early signs of his murderous nature? But at least based on the maids' words, that is not the case?

Shen Qingqiu got to admit that his curiosity is piqued. Something must have happened between the Killer and the maid and now he is looking forward to finding out what it is.

If Binghe will be reading any more diary pages for him, that is. 

Binghe is roughly opening each of the many shelves, digging through the papers before moving to the next shelf. His movement is harsh and irritated, but still, as Shen Qingqiu moves over to help him, he pushes a stool over, so he has somewhere to sit.

Shen Qingqiu can't help much with the papers without his glasses, so instead he looks at the desk. Quickly his eyes are caught by a picture frame which he picks up. The black and white picture depicts multiple men and women, standing side by side. They appear as if standing outside, but he finds it hard to make out the details. Underneath the image is a long line of text he has no chance of reading. 

While he looks over the frame, Binghe moves from the shelves to the framed painting of the lord and lady. At the bottom there is a bronze plate with smudged writing on it. Binghe reaches out to try to clean the plate, when he somehow manages to push it back.

In surprise he steps back. The painting slides open, revealing a hidden metal safe behind it. Watching on, Shen Qingqiu is glad that Binghe found out how to open the painting without his help. Studying the safe, Binghe is quick to find it to be locked.

"I wonder if there could be anything of use inside of here," he mutters as he looks at the secure box.

With Binghe distracted, Shen Qingqiu returns his attention to the frame in his hand, turning it around. Opening it from the back, as he removes the wooden covering, he finds another piece of paper inside.

Looking up, Binghe is still focused on the safe. With how much Binghe dislikes the notes, Shen Qingqiu briefly considers not telling him about it. It is clear he won't get Binghe to understand their relevance, so it might be better to keep them for himself.

He would have gone with this thought if it wasn't for his lost glasses. Even if he were to hide the note for later, when would he be able to read it? He has to rely on Binghe for such a simple task, even as it only seems to grow friction between them.

With a sigh he calls him over. "Binghe, I found another note. Will you take a look?"

Turning around a bit too quickly, Binghe's eyes fall upon the open frame in Shen Qingqiu's hand. He reaches across the table and Shen Qingqiu holds it out for Binghe to grab the note. As he does, the tiniest metal key falls from between the note and picture, landing on the table with a clatter. 

"Eh?"

A slip of paper is tied to it with a string and as Binghe picks it up, it reads 'Storage' in bold letters. Turning it this and that way, it is clear it will not fit in the safe, even without the note to declare where it belongs. Turning his attention to the note he looks it over. 

"It is another diary page," he says, quite the obvious statement.

Of course it is another diary page, they have been doing nothing but finding diary pages down here! But Shen Qingqiu can read between the lines. Instead of letting Binghe restart the conversation of the usefulness of the pages, he encourages him to instead read it out loud.

Binghe sighs, but obliges.

"At first I thought the boy had been sneaking into the mansion, but he told me he lives in a hut with his parents. He refuses to tell me who they are or even his name. He also says he isn't allowed to go near the mansion. It sounds like he is very alone, which I find sad for him. But I am glad I then get to keep him company. Today he even gave me a drawing of him, the kitten and me! It was so very sweet. I don't want to risk anyone finding the drawing, though. I am afraid it will get him in trouble with his parents. I have hidden it in the storage room. I know one of the bricks is loose after cleaning up there. No one will suspect me of hiding anything in there.”

Eyeing the key in Binghe’s hand, Shen Qinggiu feels like he just solved a challenging puzzle, but before it turning frustrating. They definitely have to check the storage room for that drawing, it must be of some use!

“I wonder if the drawing is still there,” he says, trying to keep his tone wondering and not too excited. Based on Binghe’s look, he does not believe he is quite successful.

“Senior, I have to ask again. Just what will we get out of this goose chase?”

“We were able to use the drawing at the hut as a map. Who knows what we could use this one for?”

“Being able to use one drawing doesn’t mean we can use another!”

“If we aim to go to the storage room anyway, we might as well check?”

“We don’t even know where the storage room is, Senior.”

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu tries not to sigh. “If we had found only the key without the note, would you have been this resistant to finding the room?”

Binghe goes deadly quiet. First looking down at the key in his hand, then lifting his head to look directly into Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, he pockets the key.

“Senior is right. Without the note I would be no less afraid about going there than any other place here. But now, instead I worry that Senior will get further hurt if we go there. Is that really so wrong of me?”

Hearing those words, Shen Qingqiu can’t help but soften. Calmly picking up the thrown page, he adds it to the diary he keeps on his person. 

“I appreciate Binghe’s concern, but I ask that you put some trust in me. I am not suicidal and I have learned from past mistakes.” Taking a second to think, he tries for a compromise. “If anything, once we are there, you can look for the drawing? That way you don’t have to worry about me falling into another trap?”

Binghe considers the suggestion. Meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu also thinks that it will be safer in general if Binghe just picks up the notes from now on. With his no-deaths-shield there is no risk of him burning to a crisp or drowning to death like Shen Qingqiu. 

Finally, after heavy contemplation, Binghe nods. 

“That would make me feel better,” he agrees. “If Senior promises not to pick up any more notes, but instead leaves them for me, then I agree we can look for the storage room next.”

“Then that is a deal,” Shen Qingqiu says. He offers his hand for a handshake, which Binghe hesitantly gives. After one shake, Shen Qingqiu feels satisfied and ready to search the rest of the office. 

From here they find little of interest. Shen Qingqiu brings the picture from the frame with him, deciding not to disturb Binghe with it for now. While they have reached an agreement, he doesn’t want to push Binghe’s allowances just yet.

Before they leave, they find one last shelf with a broken drawer. At first Shen Qingqiu assumes they will have to abandon it for some other time, but Binghe surprises him. Without him realizing, Binghe had brought the crowbar he used to release Shen Qingqiu from the bathroom. Having placed it in a corner while they explored the office, he brings it forward to break open the shelf.

It is a success. As the drawer falls open, multiple papers fly out, it being filled to the brim.

As Binghe immediately begins to look through the mess, Shen Qingqiu picks up one of the loose papers that have fallen to the floor.

His eyes widens.

In his hands is a very simply drawn map, completely unlike the child's drawing from the forest. Instead, this must have been drawn by an adult. Straight lines thick enough that even Shen Qingqiu's bad eyesight can see where they go come together to create a maze. Big room-esque squares are connected, each with bold letters written within.

Hurrying to Binghe's side, he hands him the drawing. "Will this be of any help?" He asks.

Looking at the map, Binghe's bad mood dries up as he also becomes eager. "Yes! We can use this to navigate the basement!"

Shen Qingqiu knew it! Sitting together, Binghe is quick to explain the map to him. First he identifies where the office they are currently in is. From there he can not only point out which direction they came from, but more importantly, which direction they should go.

He localizes the storage room and as they check the different routes they can go, one of them passes a room labeled 'Library'. Upon hearing this, Shen Qingqiu becomes even more thrilled!

It is inside the library that the shortcut to the upper floors is! Even while knowing they won't be able to enter it currently, he definitely still wants to check it out. 

In his excitement, he hurries to stand up as fast as he is able. 

"Senior, please wait. I got something I want to check out before we leave," Binghe asks as Shen Qingqiu limps towards the door. There is something of a warning in his voice, as if Shen Qingqiu is left unsupervised for 5 minutes, he will somehow stumble into another trap.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't quite appreciate his worry. Yes, he knows he has been extremely unlucky essentially every time he has been out of Binghe's sight. But that's just it - It is just bad luck. Terrible traps won't just materialize out of thin air like that.

"I will just check that the coast is clear," Shen Qingqiu declares as he reaches the door.

"Senior, if you would just wait for one minute-" Binghe complains, as he stands up. Seeing no reason to wait, Shen Qingqiu peeks into the hallway.

And comes face to face with a masked face. 

Before he can make a sound, the cold hard stone floor rushes towards his face. As his face is pressed harshly against the rough rock, he finds himself unable to breathe as his hurt arm and leg smacks against the ground. Vision turning white for a minute, he can only cry out in pain as his mangled limbs are unable to stand the harsh treatment. 

In the distance he can hear Binghe call out something, but his dizzy mind can't make out what. Then the presence above him suddenly disappears. Footsteps running away sound out before he feels much gentler hands against his body. 

"Senior, are you hurt!? What happened!" Carefully moving him around so Shen Qingqiu is laying on his back, Binghe checks him over for any further injuries.

Shen Qingqiu can only whimper brokenly as the injuries of his arm and leg flare up. Laying there, he fears that the pain killer isn't able to overcome the spasms of pain.

But slowly, the agony weakens until a bearable, but heavy ache. Able to breathe normally again, he shakily lifts his unhurt hand to grasp Binghe's knee.

"I'm fine... I was so surprised, I barely saw what happened..." He shakily says to calm the other.

"Who was that?" Binghe asks, still not past his fretting. "I wasn't able to see anything before they ran!"

"I... It..." Shen Qingqiu hesitates, brain still shaken. Feeling slightly nauseous, he turns his head to the side to calm his shaky vision.

That is when his eyes fall upon a piece of paper. A dropped note. The white paper curled just enough for two clear words to stand out at the top of the paper.

"I have begun sneaking a bit of fruit and leftover cake from the kitchen. No one should notice when I bring it to the boy. I have come to greatly enjoy his company. He talks a bit slow and simple, but I think that is because he is alone so much. He is certainly not dull or senseless, he just takes the time to think. He is always asking about the kitten and I am happy to share that it is almost back to full health."