#he’s so painfully soft in this episode it hurts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

morganas-pendragons · 5 months ago

Text

nightmare | celebrimbor

I cannot be stopped. Hurt/comfort is my JAAAMMMMMMMMMMM.

I guess this can technically be read as spoilers for episode 8. read at your own risk!

if any of you know billy joel you will automatically guess the song I used because somehow since I watched the finale it is ALL THAT PLAYS IN MY HEAD!!!!!!!!

tags: @ladyoflindon

the same elf reader of wash away the blood and ease - if you guys want to see more, I may take a few requests for Celebrimbor only over the weekend!

That evening, the stars and the silence are his only company. Annatar has had him working mercilessly on the completion of The Rings, much to your dismay. You are the only one coming to Celebrimbor's defense as his mind continues to betray him. His voice has been taken by The Lord of Gifts.

You, however, are content to remind him that you are there to be his defense.

He cannot help the exhaustion that overwhelms him as night fully falls. All the other smiths are asleep, including you, and Celebrimbor has never been one who enjoyed his solitude. It is worse when he feels as if Annatar is lurking around every corner like a viper waiting to strike at its prey.

He is alone. He is alone, defenseless, and desperately in need of sleep and sustenance.

Celebrimbor cannot ignore the lure of sleep as his head slumps forward to come and rest against his desk.

The dreams are worse than his reality.

***

The night is dark and full of terror. You, along with many of the remaining Elves from the Siege of Eregion, are forced to your knees in what remains of Eregion's courtyard.

There are bodies everywhere. Fire encompasses much of what remains of the ruins, and you are on the precipice of losing the only home you have ever known.

Your hope is truly lost when you see what Annatar has done to the man you love.

A scream builds itself inside the back of your throat as you see Sauron march Celebrimbor out of the tower. The supposed Lord of Gifts holds your husband's robes in one hand, a pole suspended in the other as he throws Celebrimbor to the ground in front of you. You are only mere feet apart.

There are so many words that can be exchanged in those moments. You want to hold him, for him to hold you, to shelter one another from the cruelties you both have endured.

Annatar has a bow slung over his shoulder and is coming closer to you than you want him to. His presence makes you angered for all the things he has done since he came here, the pain he has caused, and the dissension he wrought upon your people.

Two of the Uruk have you pinned to the ground, your arms painfully pressed to your sides as you struggle to reach Celebrimbor.

One singular arrow fires. The whimper bubbles in your throat as it impacts Celebrimbors shoulder. There's so much blood on him that you almost cannot see his skin. The smell is in the air, tangible on your tongue, and the very thought that it is all his makes you want to retch.

Those eyes are as gentle as ever.

"All will be well, my love."

You can barely hear the sound of Celebrimbor's cries as Sauron wrenches your head upward and grips your chin with a bruising grasp. "I know that of your heart's desire. For someone so powerful, it proves to be your greatest weakness." He said. "And now you will watch as I take him from you."

He fires another arrow.

Celebrimbor thrashes awake at his desk with the sounds of your screams lingering in his ears. He has to run his hands across his chest numerous times to ensure there are no lingering wounds from arrows, and that there is no blood staining his robes. All he feels is soft fabric and warmth from his own skin.

It is not enough to quell the fear.

"That will not do," Celebrimbor whispers as he scrambles to his feet and out of The Forge. These steps that follow have been memorized out of many nights of sheer desperation and longing for respite found often in you. "Need to find... has to be safe..."

Your chambers have been one of the only places within his tower that he has felt truly safe since The Lord of Gifts has arrived. You have forced him to sleep on numerous occasions since the beginning of forging The Nine, and Celebrimbor has found himself stumbling to find you on numerous occasions out of sheer desperation.

His quiet confessions are always piercing. You are the only soul that ever hears them.

"I am afraid, My Love. I cannot sleep when I am so.."

You never question him. You take him into your bed and he curls against you, back to chest, and lets himself fall asleep to the lull of your voice as you sing.

Celebrimbor hates that it has been you comforting him so often. He wonders when the time will come for you to be the one comforted, but he also believes you are a gift sent from the Valar in his most dire time of need.

He shakes his head roughly and steps inside your room. There is no time for such thoughts. His heartbeat is pounding so wildly in his ears that he barely hears his own call of your name as he stumbles toward the bed.

You are the very picture of peace. The sight alone comforts him. He so rarely has had nightmares bad enough to wake you up, but Celebrimbor is not sure he can deal with the effects of this one on his own.

Tender fingers graze your cheek as he shakily settles on the bed. You hum lowly in your sleep, seeking out the familiar warmth of his touch as you lean into him. It is only upon feeling his shaking hand at your hip that you stir enough to open your eyes and peer up at him.

He freezes, shame flooding his body as he averts your gaze. "Celebrimbor," You whisper. Celebrimbor does not dare to turn his head to you. His aversion is what prompts you to sleepily prop yourself up on an elbow and use your free hand to cup his jaw and turn him toward you. "My Love? Come to bed. The Rings will be there in the morning.''

Celebrimbor's eyes flutter closed. You seem to be waiting for some type of explanation, and he owes you one.

"I-" He swallows the knot in his throat and exhales softly. "I fell asleep at my desk."

"As you usually do." You tease softly. You tip your head downward and kiss his wrist.

"I fear I am to the point where I do not know what are dreams and what are real." The mere fact that he is divulging this is what wakes you up further. You shift your body in the bed so you are sitting upright, parting your legs to wrap them around his waist where he sits in the bed with his own body poised toward the door as if he would even attempt to flee. "I only wish for the peace of sleep. Sleep, in here, with you."

The silent words of away from him linger in the air as you link your fingers together where they rest on his stomach. When the two of you sit this way, you can feel each individual breath, the pounding of his heart, and the sweatiness of trembling hands that so tightly clutch your own.

The foundations of an idea are building in your head when you suddenly find yourself lowered onto your back on the bed. You know that look in his eyes when you see it; A longing rooted deeply in fear and shame over what Annatar has done to him, a desperation in needing to forget what has been done to him and because of him.

"You are struggling to discern that which is real?" You ask. Celebrimbor does not respond as he towers over you, caging your body in with his own as you submit to him. You know he needs this, so you will give it to him. You would give all of yourself to him if it brought him peace. "I will remind you."

You lay your hands on either side of your head facing upward.

"When I first came to Eregion, you took these hands into your own and led me through the city while giving me its history. History you were present for in a city you saw built from the very foundations. You took me back to the healers that night. When I was too fearful to let another touch me, you took care of me with these hands. Was that real?"

The memory sits clearly in his mind underneath the fog that has gathered there. He struggles to grasp onto it, to feel the weight of that memory until he can link his fingers with yours where they lay on the bed.

"That was real," He whispers into the dark. "I was fascinated by you. You were something new. Something new that needed protecting... and I felt that only I could give that to you in a way you needed."

You angle your head upward to press your lips to his forehead in such a tender kiss it sends a shiver down his spine. His breath fans against your face, mingling with your own as he anchors onto you.

You continue, "Not long after we met, I came to you in confidence about a group of male elves who had been harassing me for getting too close to their Lord. Two of them tried to advance. You did not let them. I was fairly shaken as that is the first time I can recall that happening, and you boldly stepped out to kiss my forehead and assure me all would be well and no harm would come to me again. Was that real?"

Celebrimbor knows that one well too. The reality of his memories with you is enough to permeate the darkness of his illusions fabricated by Sauron. The longer he grasps them, the calmer he feels, and the more he relaxes.

"That was real." Celebrimbor pauses to consider his next words as you peer up at him in equal parts fascination and awe. He will never quite comprehend the magnitude of how you look at him. "I have never felt devoted to anyone outside of my own kin."

Your eyes drag downward to settle upon his mouth for just long enough that he notices. Celebrimbor presses his knee into the natural part of your thighs and bends his head to meet your lips halfway.

That is the difference. That is what is real. So much of his waking hours as of late have been plagued by a bone-chilling cold. It is the warmth of your mouth against his own and the little sounds breaking at the back of your throat that remind him of what's truly important: Better than any amount of power or legacy he could ever dream of having.

You.

You pull away just enough to tilt your head and press a kiss upon whatever skin you can reach. "The first time you kissed me was outside the library," You whisper in his ear, soft and warm as you nuzzle where his jaw meets his neck. "We were both terribly nervous. I did not want to ruin what I had built with you, and you..."

"I did not wish to impose upon you if you chose to leave."

"Do you remember what I said?" You ask.

Celebrimbor closes his eyes. He can recall that night so clearly. It's the first time he confidently remembers the depth of how much he knew he'd come to love you.

His feet lead him out of the Forge and into the courtyard before Celebrimbor can properly process that it is raining. The path ends at the doors to the Library where he stops short and freezes once he realizes you've opened the door before he thought to knock upon it.

You're wearing his robes. The ones he'd given you your first night in the city. The red ones. They're his favorite.

"Celebrimbor," You muse softly as you drum your fingers against the doorway. "You're soaking wet. What-"

"You have consumed me," Your eyes widen as the words stumble past his lips, and he cannot help himself. "Thoughts of you have consumed me and will not seem to stop. You are the only Elf to cross into these gates that has embraced me as Celebrimbor, without looking for the Greatest of the Elven Smiths or the Lord of Eregion. I-"

You peer up at him now, wet hair clinging to your face as you step fully out of the shelter of the doorway and into the rain that falls upon you both. Your fingers idly reach for his own and squeeze when you recognize the sharp intake of breath at such a simple offer of touch.

"What do you want, Celebrimbor?" You ask softly.

He's the only thing you want you are too fearful to take.

"I want the pleasure of asking if it is okay to kiss you, my Lady. I have been wishing for it for quite a while now."

The color of your cheeks darkens as you nod, and he is upon you, in your space, trembling fingers slotting against the curve of your jaw before you surge upward to meet his mouth halfway. Something broken echoes in the back of his throat when you pull on his robes to tug him closer, curling your own fingers into the wet curls that press against his temples before Celebrimbor forces himself to pull away and allow you both to breathe.

"You chose me in a time I thought I would be alone forever," The words spill past your lips as he cradles your jaw and tenderly runs his thumbs over your cheeks. "But I will promise to you for all our eternity that I will choose you. Now, then, in every lifetime."

"You spoke of choosing me in every lifetime," Celebrimbor reminds you, lifting one of your linked hands to lay a kiss upon your knuckles. "And I will say the same to you for as long as you continue to have me."

You smile softly. Most often times silence would convey disagreement, but he knows simply by looking at you that there is no deceit or malice hidden there. Your smile is an assurance of his own words. No matter what Annatar does to him, you will be there, and you will choose him.

Celebrimbor unlinks your hands beside your head, feeling properly calm for the first time in days, and slowly turns to sink into the bed. You are quick to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his shoulder as he moves backward to press his back to your chest.

Relief floods him. The panic and fear that brought Celebrimbor in here has died down to a quiet thrum in the back of his head. It will surely rear its ugly head again later when Annatar comes seeking him out in the morning.

For now, in the darkness of the night, he will allow himself this one reprieve.

"You always seem to fall asleep easier to song," You murmur lowly in his ear, trailing your fingers up and down his side as you speak. He can tell you're not too far away from falling asleep again too. "I want you to tell me. What do need from me?"

It's a foreign thing for Celebrimbor to be asked now. It's so often, "What you can do for me." instead of, "What do you need from me?" He's a means to an end. A tool. A pawn for Annatar in whatever game is playing, a piece to be moved about the board.

Celebrimbor's words knot in his throat. He knows what he needs, but he cannot speak it.

Thankfully you seem to already know the answer. Raising your hand to his head, your voice softly begins to sing in his ear as he drifts between wakefulness and slumber.

"Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes... And save these questions for another day.... I think I know what you've been asking me... I think you know what I've been trying to say...."

His body gradually grows more lax in your hold as you continue, "I promised I would never leave you... and you should always know..... wherever you may go, no matter where you are.. I never will be far away...."

A single tear falls to stain his robes. You hate that he is in so much pain. You hate that you can do little but be his shield, forced to step between him and Annatar for fear that this charade of creating the Rings will be his downfall.

You will not let that happen. If covering Celebrimbor in love is enough to ease that pain, to quell that fear, then you will do it. His needs far outweigh your own.

"Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream.... and dream how wonderful our life will be...." Your voice breaks as you hold him tighter, keenly aware Celebrimbor has fallen asleep in your embrace and can no longer consciously hear you.

You do not finish the song. You simply allow yourself to feel the weight of him in your arms, the depths of each breath beneath your palm, and remember that you have tonight. He will be gone by the time you awake.

"I love you," You breathe. He does not hear your confession: The first time such words have fallen into the open. "And I will remind you of it again and again even if it is to be the only truth amidst all of the deceit."

You do not realize that he is only on the precipice of sleep and has heard your every word enough to hesitantly whisper, "I love you too, my love." before sleep claims you both with the stars and the silence as your company.

#Celebrimbor #Celebrimbor x Reader #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power

143 notes · View notes

short-honey-badger · 3 months ago

Text

Doll 9

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Summary: Time passes, and Shanks and the crew train your new abilities. And a surprise waits for you on the next island

Warnings! Mentions of torture, hurt/comfort, and panic attacks

Doll Masterlist

Your training goes about as well as Shanks imagined it would. He doesn't have much of a basis other than how Roger taught him, so on days when the sun is shining and the crew is feeling lazy, Shanks and Yasopp toss round, wooden balls at you. You acquire more than your fair share of bruises, but you never ask them to stop or slow down. Eventually, you begin to dodge them, your observation haki putting its work in and allowing you to “see” where the wooden balls would land.

When they weren't doing that, Benn was taking you aside and teaching you about the flintlock pistols that he favored. He explained the use of sea stone and how a single shot from one of his weapons could put down even a logia type user.

You made sure to spend time with each of the crew, learning all that they were willing to teach you. On days where they were busy, you would gather everyone's laundry and sequester yourself away in your room. Limejuice had taught you about meditation, and you did your best to practice after you hung up the crew's clothes to dry out on deck.

The days soon turned into weeks, and your relationship with Shanks bloomed. You slept in his bed every night and sometimes were able to sleep through the night without having a nightmare. Whenever you did have them, Shanks was always there to calm you down and talk you through it. Afterward, the redhead would hold you close, lips pressed against the top of your head and would quietly ask if you wanted to talk about them. You’d opened up a little about your past, but most of the time, you denied his request.

You’d grown comfortable enough that just a look from Shanks would have you shedding your shirt, tossing the fabric to the floor along with your pants. Your legs were a mess of scars, and you’d quietly admitted that the head of house’s daughter had thought it fun to pull you into her room and mark you with cigarettes that the girl would steal from the other slaves when she found them. He had spent an evening with you on your back, legs bare to him as he pressed soft kisses to every burn and scar that he came across.

That night was the closest he’d come to your aching core, lips hovering over your underwear before by passing them to lave open mouthed kisses up your stomach and neck, until he could seal his lips against your own. As much as he wanted you, every part of you, Shanks knew it wasn’t the time for that yet. He needed you to know that he adored you, scars and all.

Today was one of the lazy days where you pulled apart and cleaned Benn's pistols, then put them back together under his watchful eye. He looked on in quiet pride when you presented him a perfectly repaired weapon and reached out to pat your shoulder.

“Gettin’ faster, seashell.”

You huffed at the nickname, but it didn't truly bother you. Lucky Roux had started it when he caught you out on deck one day, placing each of your collected seashells by size out on the deck. The cook had grinned and handed over a tiny nautilus shell and encouraged you to keep growing your collection on the next island that they stopped at.

“Thanks, Benn,” you murmur and then lean back on your hands, face pointed towards the sun.

Shanks watches from where he is lounged on a barrel near the wheel of the ship, sipping sake from a small saucer cup that hits his grin. You've been doing so well these past weeks. He'd learned more about you, slowly, painfully almost, but it seemed like the more you spoke about what you went through, the better you got. They’d had a few episodes since that first panic attack, one so bad that your haki had sent him careening across his room to smack into a wall. You had cried over thinking that you had hurt him, and Shanks spent the rest of the night assuring you that he didn't even have a scratch left behind from the accident. Honestly, he’d been more excited over the fact that your abilities had grown so much that you could start defending yourself with them.

It was good seeing you so embedded within his crew. He had taken a risk in letting you come, even though he knew that there would be no leaving you behind all those weeks ago. How long has it been now? A month, give or take? Shanks didn't know, nor did he really care. He was simply happy that you were here with them.

It was also almost time for their next resupply trip, and the closest island was one much bigger than the one he had found you in. Shanks had considered having you stay on board while the crew went out to get what they needed, but it didn't sit well with him to order you around like that. You had just gained your freedom. He wasn't about to become your next jailer.

Shanks stands and lopes over to where you sit in the sun, and Benn gives him a nod before he leaves with a farewell pat on your shoulder. You grin when you see your partner, and Shanks has zero qualms about sitting on the deck next to you.

“We're going to be stopping at the next island soon. The closest one is called Moorboro Haven. It'll be a lot bigger than the last one, but not as big as Sabaody,” He tells her and watches as you nod, taking in everything that Shanks says.

“I want you to stay close to me, alright? Anytime you want to go somewhere or explore the island, you take one of the crew members if I'm not available.”

You nod diligently. You had no problem with having someone with you, especially while landbound, “I will, Shanks. I promise.”

Shanks kisses the side of your head in thanks, grateful that you didn't want to fight with him over the matter, not that he thought you would anyway. He was leery about leaving you alone, worried that someone would snatch you up, and he would never see you again. Not that he would ever let that happen, but it was still a thought that bothered him.

It was the next evening by the time the Red Force sailed into the bay of Moorboro. You clutched the railing, your hair tucked into a baggy cap and a red bandana tied around your neck. The docks were packed with all kinds of ships, and your mouth ran dry when you spotted one of the massive Navy crusiers sitting in the middle of the chaos. While Shanks wasn’t flying his jolly roger, his ship was still recognizable enough.

Your captain was busy shouting orders, making sure that his crew was getting what they needed off the ship and directing them in what they would need restocking on. They were an old hand at this, however, so it didn’t take Shanks very long to join you at the bow of the ship. His arm slid around your waist, and you leaned into him, “You’re not worried they’ll try anything?”

Shanks glances over at the Navy vessel and shrugs, “Nah. We came in with a white flag, and they’ll know better to start something when they realize that it’s us. Being an emperor comes with it’s perks.”

You snort with a shake of your head, “I’m sure it does.”

And you know it does. Even as closed off to the rest of the world when up at Marie Geoise, Sabaody was a hub of activity, and rumors flew like birds. The first time you’d heard about Shanks was when his bounty had gone up from 1,040,000,000 berries to a whopping 3,000,000,000 berri. He was the talk of the island at that point, and you’d heard everyone from your master to the slaves of other families talk about the redhead. There was a reason only the strongest of the marines dared to deal with Red-Haired Pirates.

The two of you make light conversation while the rest of the crew get the boat docked and anchor dropped, tying off the ship with this ropes to keep it still in the waves that crashed against the shore. Shanks fixes your cap when your hair threatens to fall with a concentrated look on his face. The light disguise would do well to keep you safe.

The port town was bustling with activity when the two of you left the ship, and you took care to stick close to Shanks. You were used to large crowds, but after having been around no one else but the rest of the crew, you’d grown to resent the opperissning feeling of bodies all around. Shanks kept your hand firmly tucked with his own, pulling the two of you along until they met up with Beckman on the outskirts of the dock. Benn nodded to his captain and fell into step on your other side, and the three of you weaved through the crowds of people until you found an inn that wasn’t stuffed full with people.

“Got ‘ere at a good time, youngin’s,” the innkeeper told them as Shanks paid for their rooms. He trusted the rest of his crew to find their own accommodations, but he wanted you and his first mate close.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked and parked himself on the nearest stool. You followed his lead, sitting close to your lover as the old man set bottles of booze in front of the three of you.

“The fall equinox o’course! Biggest celebration of the year,” He booms, and you try not to wince at his volume. But your interest is still peaked, and you listen in as the old innkeep begins to explain.

“Shops will start linin’ up the streets soon, parades in the evenings to celebrate the start of a good harvest, and on the final day, we’ll have a firework show. That’s what you don’t want to miss.”

Shanks nods along. He doesn’t want to linger for very long, but when he looks at you, he can see the excitement dwelling in your eyes. He’s been here for the summer equinox celebration before, and the cities knew how to throw their parties. He wants you to be able to experience that, too.

“Glad we got here when we did, then,” He comments, and you look at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t wanted to ask your captain if they could stay, but you really wanted to see the fireworks. You can’t help but beam at him and have a hard time not throwing yourself at the redhead as glee shocks through your veins. He meets your smile and bends to press a kiss to your brow before pulling back, “We’ll stay until the fireworks.”

The rest of the evening is spent catching up on any gossip that the crew has missed while out at sea. It wasn’t until Benn asked for the most recent bounties that you grew tense beside the two men, nervous to see if you would be in them. The innkeeper handed over a thick stack, and the three of your began to leaf through them.

You passed by the pirates that you didn’t recognize, though you did swipe the one of Shanks for yourself. It was too good of a picture to pass up. However, near the end of the stack, your throat closed up, eyes going wide as you stare down at a bounty, your face looking back up at you. Shanks swipes the thick paper away from you, dark eyes narrowed as he looks it over.

This picture had to have been taken a while before you’d escaped from Marie Geoise. You’re pale, hair lank around your face and cheeks hollow. There is a dead look in your eyes, so different from what Shanks sees when he looks at you now. Your shirt looks like it’d been tore open, your brand out for the world to see.

WANTED ALIVE, PROPERTY OF THE LA-MINNING FAMILY

BOUNTY 5,000,000 BERRI

#reader insert #one piece #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #opla shanks #one piece x reader

49 notes · View notes

zepp-l1n · 2 years ago

Text

His Anchor

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader

summary: sometimes Kaz needs a comforting presence. fic type - angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship warning - Kaz's haphephobia and trauma :(, also a little ooc Kaz at the end?? word count - 1,494 a/n: hiii! hope you guys enjoy!

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

It wasn't unusual for Kaz to get overwhelmed and slip into one of his episodes. Too much time spent in interactions, physical or not, would cause him to feel the water rise up his spine and start to consume him. In the past during times like these, Kaz would run off and lock himself into his room. No one was to come in, and no one was to go out. Now things were different. Now he had (Y/N).

The girl had become apart of his team of Crows early on, but it wasn't until a little while ago that the two crossed into a relationship status past friends (one that Kaz refused to call "lovers" due to his hatred for visible weaknesses). Since they had reached this point, the two had been working on trying to break down Kaz's walls. Understandably, the couple had been taking it slow, and didn't try to go to far out of Kaz's comfort zone.

So far, they had managed to make some progress. The first step had been hand holding in short time frames - which was okay, with or without gloves.

Next had been opening up about Kaz's childhood. (Y/N) still didn't know much, due to the fact that she didn't want to push him to far to fast, but it was enough for her to understand where he was coming from. Now, when he had the episodes, she was right there with him - staying far enough away so to not make it worse, but close enough that he wouldn't have to go through it alone. She was now his savior, pulling him back to shore when the waters threatened to drown him. And he needed that safety, especially in moments like these.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Kaz was crouched in the corner of his room. His goal had been to huddle up on his bed where he would be more comfortable, but the waves had become to much for him to go any farther. All he could see was Jordie. All he could see was Jordie. There was no escaping him. He could feel the cold hands of Jordie and the others gripping at his body.

Kaz had been alone in his study when the attack hit him, so he didn't have far to go to hide away. Unbeknownst to him, (Y/N) had seen his shaken form enter his room. She subtly excused herself from the conversation she was having with Nina and Matthias, and calmly made her way to the room. Inside, her brain was running a mile a minuet. She knew how bad Kaz could get sometimes, and she could only hope that he was alright.

Inside the room, the boy had curled into himself farther, trying to get any slight piece of relief. He was too far into his own head that he didn't notice (Y/N)'s knock on his door, nor did he notice her enter the room.

"Kaz?" she quietly called out. Her gaze drifted to the boy on the ground - the boy she had grown to truly care about. She could tell he was hyperventilating, a common occurrence during these episodes, but his breathing was far more erratic than usual. "Kaz, sweetheart?" (Y/N) closed in on the boy, arms cautiously open and outstretched. Kaz still didn't notice her. Once more, she stepped towards him. "Kaz, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

His gloved hands were painfully clasped around his shoulders. He couldn't take in anything other than the water and Jordie. Nothing else seemed to be real.

(Y/N)'s hands reached for Kaz's. She didn't know what she was planning on doing, but she knew that she needed to bring him out of the episode fast, for his sanity and hers. "I'm here Kaz." she mumbled, soft hands winding around the leather she had become happily accustomed to. "You're safe. You're here with me." Her words and movements were gradually becoming more frantic. While keeping one hand on his, she brought the other back to herself for a moment. She knew that holding him anywhere else was way past the boundaries they had broken, and although it could possibly help, she wasn't sure if it would make things off between them afterwards.

A broken gasp brought (Y/N)'s attention back to the boy in front of her. Kaz's chest was rapidly heaving, trying to take in unnecessary amounts of air. His already shaking body seemed to increase in speed. She needed to do something, and fast.

(Y/N) knew that even the slightest bit of cold flesh may send him farther into his episode, so she quickly pulled both hands away and started rubbing them together to get some friction. Once they were as warm as she could get them, (Y/N) placed her hands onto his body - the left cradling his neck, and the right caressing his face. She pulled his body tight against hers, resting his head on her clothed chest. From this angle he would be able to hear her madly-paced heartbeat. "Kaz, darling, please." she loudly begged.

In Kaz's head, and behind Jordie's angry yells, he started to hear a steady 'thump'. Warmth enveloped his face and neck, pushing away some of the violent waves.

Soft cries started to leave the girls mouth. She couldn't help the frustrated and scared tears misting over her eyes, or the overly panicked thoughts rushing through her head.

Kaz could feel the waves dying down, but he still couldn't get away from the cold and damp feeling of the death he experienced. The thumping was still a steady tune, pulsing through the back of his conscience. He knew something or someone was there, but he couldn't get away.

"I'm here." her choked words returned to their former softness, but still repeated rapidly, as if speaking them over and over would bring him out of his trance. "Please..."

The thumping grew louder, and faster in pace. Whatever it was, Kaz was sure would burst in minuets. It echoed in his mind, blocking out Jordie's yells - blocking out the smell of sea water and the feeling of water filling his lungs. Then came the call of a soft a familiar voice - one that he could recognize and point out within all of the crowds in Ketterdam. (Y/N). The dark haze started to clear from his mind, letting him take in the sight of the girl holding him.

For a moment everything stopped. It was as if Kaz was someone else - as if he hadn't lost Jordie, or been dumped with the other bodies, or as if he could freely touch anything and anyone he wanted. He felt the soft skin pressing on his neck and face, and subconsciously leaned into it. Fresh tears streamed from his eyes, coming into contact with the soft skin he now adored, and he couldn't help but let out matching whimpers and cries of his own.

A soft gasp sounded from about him, "Kaz!" He could feel the girl start to pull away, the feeling of her warmth leaving his cold body, and he swiftly pulled her back.

"Stay." his broken voice whispered. "I'm sorry." Her heartbeat rang in his ears, proving to him that she was real, not some body he was forcefully sat beside.

"Don't be," she hoarsely muttered. "You have nothing to apologize for. Not to me." Her right hand ran over the rough skin of his cheek, brushing against the small scars that littered the area.

"I do." his voice vibrated against her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

(Y/N) pulled his face away from her, and used her hands to force his stare back in her direction. "Kaz Brekker, don't start with that. I am here - to help, to hold, to get you through the unnecessary suffering. I will be here every step of the way." Her voice never raised above a whisper.

"But-" he started, but (Y/N) cut him off.

"No. I will be here. I will be your tether back to reality, whenever I am needed. I will bring you back to me - back to the crows - back to yourself. We will get through this. One day, things will get better. One day, I will have you, without your armor. But until then, I will be with you every step of the way." (Y/N)'s eyes pierced into his own throughout her entire speech. Her words and look were enough to render Kaz, for the first time, speechless.

Kaz leaned forward, securing himself back into her arms. He didn't know how much longer this moment would last, or how much longer he'd be able to hold her without feeling the need to throw up, but he knew she would wait as long as it took for him to be free of his fears and hold her like this always. He knew that he had her. he finally had his anchor, and he wasn't letting it go.

#reader insert #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #netflix shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #kazzle dazzle #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #freddy carter #kaz dirtyhands brekker

826 notes · View notes

anthurak · 8 months ago

Text

Something I find so damn interesting about Apology Tour is how both the scenes with Blitzo and Stolas actually show us, in real time, how Blitzo’s deep-seated trauma-defenses and internalized self-hatred actively STOP him from forming meaningful connections and burn down the relationships he forms.

In their first scene at the start of the episode, it is painfully OBVIOUS that Blitzo misses Stolas and at some level WANTS to patch things up with him. But at the same time is constantly self-sabotaging with his deeply ingrained emotional defenses. This scene really does show Blitzo at some of the WORST we’ve ever seen him, constantly blowing off, shooting down and mocking Stolas’s attempts at sincerity while being painfully obvious how desperate he still is.

And it’s all because his deeply ingrained emotional defenses and self-loathing actively FIGHTING his sincere love for Stolas in a way that I doubt Blitzo is even fully aware of: Every time he gets anywhere close to genuine sincerity or any kind of true apology, he almost reflexively back-peddles on ‘can’t-be-vulnerable-I’ll-only-get-hurt, can’t-be-vulnerable-I’ll-only-get-hurt’ to push Stolas away, to the point where when some genuine vulnerability slips out in the form of EXACTLY WHAT BLITZO NEEDED TO ADMIT TO STOLAS AND HIMSELF… Blitzo immediately undermines and sabotages it in the most sad and pathetic way possible.

It really makes it clear that what happened in The Full Moon was in NO WAY the product of circumstance or ‘just a misunderstanding’, but instead was the inevitable end result of Blitzo’s and Stolas’s relationship.

Then we have the conversation at Verosika’s party, which I think gives us a look at just how DEEP Blitzo’s self-sabotage and self-loathing really goes.

Because in this scene, unlike in previous ones, Blitzo has been effectively stripped of the normal callous abrasiveness he normally uses to keep people at a distance, with his only attempts being soft and not-even-half-hearted. Instead, what’s most telling about this scene isn’t what Blitzo does say, but what he DOESN’T.

Blitzo is largely quiet through much of this scene while Stolas does most of the talking. However, Blitzo’s nonverbal moments in this scene make it clear that he is both deeply in love with Stolas, and FULLY aware of how in love he is.

Yet it seems that when Blitzo tries to reach out and be sincere and vulnerable, he just… CAN’T.

As in, we see multiple instances during this scene of Blitzo have a chance to and even making what seems to be attempts to reach out and open up to Stolas, only to just… stop.

I think this scene is showing us that Blitzo’s self-hatred and simple, unbridled FEAR of being hurt are so DEEPLY ingrained that he simply CANNOT be truly sincere and vulnerable with Stolas or really anyone. Even when he’s not actively pushing people away, this scene showed us Blitzo being simply unable to actually open up to Stolas.

For me, these scenes and the episode as a whole really confirmed that, regardless of any issues/fault on Stolas' part, Blitzo’s relationship with him, or with anyone, was NEVER going to work as he is now.

These scenes show us that all of Blitzo’s trauma and baggage are actively PREVENTING him from forming close connections with others. And that Blitzo straight-up CANNOT have or maintain a close, meaningful and functional relationship with Stolas, or ANYONE, until he recognizes, confronts, understands and resolves all the trauma and baggage he’s been repressing for the last fifteen years.

So I suppose it’s a good thing that the next episode seems poised to drag him kicking and screaming into such a confrontation.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #helluva blitzo #character analysis

63 notes · View notes

sillybucket · 2 years ago

Text

“I will be okay” { Stolas x g/n reader }

Woo my first Tumblr fanfic - I’m a little nervous I’ll admit … my writing skills are painfully mediocre but still I hope this came out at least okay-ish :,)👍

I wanna apologize in advance for the possible ooc moments … I’m admittedly not a professional writer , I barely know what I’m doing sometimes ;_;

Also if someone already wrote something similar , know it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : none , this is just pure fluff featuring the reader visiting the owl boyo at the hospital after the events of season 2’s fourth episode … cause dammit , after all he went through he deserves some affection :,I

🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 .

< Your highness ? >

The nurse’s words seemed to bring Stolas back to reality : he turned around to look at her , his tired eyes barely able to stay open …

His encounter with Striker was still very vivid in his mind , and despite his resilience the Prince was feeling completely exhausted after all the hits and wounds he had received …

All he wanted to do was sleep , desperately trying to pretend that all that had happened was nothing but a bad dream , and holding on to the hope that after closing his eyes he would’ve woke up back to his mansion , back to his daughter …

And back to his beloved .

< Yes ? What is it ? >

, he asked , letting out a hiss as his bandaged leg started to hurt after his sudden movement .

< Well , uh , there is a demon out here … they said they want to see you . >

The nurse adjusted her glasses , looking down on a paper she was holding .

< Their name is (y/n) , do you know them ? Should I let them in ? >

Stolas’s eyes widened , and he immediately shifted to a sitting position , ignoring his aching leg and wounds .

< Oh - oh yes ! Please , let them in ! >

His heart beat quickened as he watched the nurse walk out the room : oh , how he longed to see them , to hold them in his arms and feel their comforting warmth …

After a moment the door opened once again , and a familiar demon slowly walked forward , their worried gaze softening as they stared into the Prince’s scarlet eyes …

< Hey sweetie … I’m so glad to see you . >

, they said , approaching the hospital bed and sitting beside him .

Stolas let out a soft little hoot as their hands caressed his cheek , looking at (y/n) with a loving smile .

< Me too , dearest , I’ve … really missed you . >

He kissed the palm of their hand , taking a deep breath …

< I hope I didn’t scare you too much … I can’t imagine how worried you must’ve been , finding out with a sudden text that I was here at the hospital . >

The Prince sighed , looking down at the floor .

< This is nothing to be concerned about , my love … I’m quite tough , I’ll be fine in no time … I’m just sorry I made you come all this way just for me , I hope you weren’t too busy … I do not want to waste your time , so if you have something else to do or somewhere to be you should probabl - >

While he was talking Stolas hadn’t noticed that (y/n) had gotten closer to him , and when they pressed their lips against his he let out a little surprised gasp before closing his eyes , kissing them back while holding them close to him .

When they both pulled away , (y/n) put their hands on his shoulders , careful to avoid touching any of his wounds …

< Stolas , sweetheart … nothing is more important to me than knowing you’re okay . Besides , you should be more worried about yourself : you’re the one who got kidnapped and beat up by a wanted assassin . >

The Prince looked up at them and smiled softly , leaning forward to leave a kiss on their forehead .

< Thank you , (y/n) … it means so much that you care about me . I love you . >

He looked at the pink shades of the sky outside the window , taking a deep breath while holding them in his arms and caressing their hair …

Despite everything that went wrong that day , despite not knowing what was going to happen in the future , Stolas knew that with his beloved starlight by his side he was going to be okay .

🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 . 🌙 .

If you’re reading this , thank you so much for getting to the end of my silly fanfic :D

Feel free to share your thoughts about it , I’m always happy to see some feedback ^^ I’m very bad at handling my time so I have no idea when I’ll make another one , but I’m definitely planning to do more x readers , maybe from other fandoms I’m into :)👍

Bye now , stay safe ! ❤️

#helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #helluva boss stolas #stolas x reader #helluvaboss #helluva boss

423 notes · View notes

slutforsnow · 1 year ago

Text

Health and Hell

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A/N: Genuinely love how much attention these are getting ty and ily everyone 😭🫶🏼 reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated but not required🫶🏼 (please gimme some fanfic title suggestions in the asks or inbox!/nf)

Summary//Joseph and Violet bonding before his diagnosis & death (I haven't hit episode 4 yet cause I keep rewatching Billy calling out Henry for stealing from Kathleen im sorry 😭)

Cw// foreshadowing Joseph's death, Billy being his own warning again, Billy being emotionally not there, talk of death, whore mention

Billy stood by Mr. Upson, waiting for Violet. He had asked her yesterday to stop by and watch over Joseph while his ma worked, and he was at the ranch until he could get the doctor to come look at him about his nasty cough. He trusted Violet more than anyone, aside from his ma, to look after Joe and considering Antrim was nowhere to be found, he knew that Violet would be a better choice.

"Good mornin' sir, mornin' Billy," came her voice, and Billy looked up. He looked puzzled to see her in a dress. Her bright red hair was in a braid, which was in some kind of bun, and being held together by a dark pastel green ribbon. Her hair and eyes were complimented by her different shades of pastel green dress, which made her look quite beautiful.

"Mornin', Violet," He greeted, turning to her and taking off his hat in respect towards her. "Mr. Upson, this is Violet Evans. Violet, this is Mr. Ash Upson—he's takin' me to a rancher, Billy Matthews, to see about a job."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Upson," Violet replied, smilin politely to him as she shook his hand after he took off his hat in respect to her as well.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Evans," Upson said with a gentle smile.

Billy smiled faintly at the two before leading Violet to meet Kathleen. He found her getting her shoes on and smiled a little more; seeing his ma always made him smile no matter the consequences.

"Ma, this is Violet—she's gonna watch over Joe til we can get the doctor," He said when she looked up.

Violet smiled and waved to Kathleen. "Hi, ma'am."

"Oh, why hello, Violet. I thought you weren't coming until later, but thank you so much for acceptin' to look after Joseph," Kathleen said with a gentle yet worrisome smile. She didn't want to feel like she was putting pressure on a girl that she barely knew.

"I'm just happy to help," Violet reassured with a gentle nod as the two led her upstairs to Billy and Joseph's room.

The harsh hacking and coughing almost brought tears to Violet's eyes. She hated seeing little kids sick—it made her heart hurt because no kid should deserve to suffer to painfully. Violet grimaced a little, remembering how she lost one of her friends to consumption (she was also whores but that wasn't what killed her).

"Hey, Joe."

The sudden appearance of Billy's voice, sound soft and comforting, snapped Violet out of her memory of her friend. She watched from the threshold as Billy told Joseph about Violet and he soon gestured for her to come in.

She walked into the room, sitting in the now empty chair.

Billy and Kathleen left the pair to head off to work and the ranch, leaving them in complete silence.

"Hey, Joseph," Violet greeted softly, brushing some of his dark hair from his face. Her tone was much calmer and collected compared to how she spoke the day before—it wasn't rough and tough. It was gentle and ladylike.

"Hi, Ms. Evans..." The young boy responded before falling into a series of hacking coughs once more. Violet wanted to hold this poor boy and hug him tightly. He was too sweet, too young.

"No need to call me Ms. Evans, buddy. You can just call me Violet," She commented, putting the wet rang, which she had seen on the tin tub on the dresser, on his forehead to hopefully help with his fever.

After a few moments if silence, Joseph spoke up.

"Billy would like you as his girl. Real pretty lookin'; you look real tough too," He murmured, earning a soft giggle from the older woman.

"What makes you say that I'm tough?" She inquired, smiling a bit*

"Those cuts along your nose, Vi. Only a real tough girl would have her scars out in the open."

Violet's smile faded for a moment. She forgot to hide her scars.

"Oh- why thank you, Joe." Her voice was still gentle and soft, not wanting to make him think he made her angry or upset.

As the hours went on, the two had grown close. Joseph was telling her about stories of his life with Billy and Kathleen. She was telling him tales of how she'd grown up in Silver City, aside from her trauma, and how she'd sometimes dress as a boy to play poker and help Jesse with work instead of waiting for some marriage proposal from some sleazy guy.

Joe was having more fun talking with Violet than he'd ever had since his family left New York. He felt happy, even with his awful coughs and occasional vomiting.

64 notes · View notes

kstaki · 6 months ago

Text

I am probably a little late but damnnn it! Recent episode was 😱 Genbaaaaaaa 😭😭😭 While I am glad we learn about him but argh…it hurt

Also Shirabe-Sannnnnn gah I am so glad you at least you’re not so hard on Genba.

While I had half expect her to go in full work stern mode like in beginning in demanding tone but she was so soft & thoughtful towards him. (Even to bend down to his level to ask WAHHH 🫡 ) Especially when she had to (painfully) inform him he was under surveillance & she tried to fight for him 😭 (Yet Genba was so understanding that she started to feel guilty 🥲)

(I guess being around them she really start to grow on them but thank youuuu Shirabe-Sannnn)

My two fav character. Really wonder how the story would go weee

#boonboomger #bakuage sentai boonboomger #genba bureki #shirabe saibu #APPRECIATION POST EVEN IF SO MINOR I DON’T CARE #I love these two a lot seriously they got a lot on their weight but they still can try find way to cheer themselves up #if anything else happen to both of them 😠#Just feel like Shirabe-San treated Genba right as he should be

13 notes · View notes

xraiyax · 1 year ago

Text

Writing Patterns

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged by @katia-anyway! Thanks you for tagging me <3 I will start with my newest fic.

Then Came You (T)

One Piece | LawLu | Hurt&Comfort | Post Wano Canon Divergent

„Please Captain don’t die.“ Law could hear Bepo repeat the words over and over.

Nothing to Lose (T)

One Piece | Kizaru x Akainu & LawLu | Hurt&Comfort | Enemies working together

Kizaru could move as quick as light but not whilst carrying another person, especially a dying person.

My Sweetheart (T)

One Piece | Kizaru x Akainu | Fluff | Kizaru teasing Akainu

The first time he called Sakazuki Sweetheart was in his office.

Better Than Us (Gen)

One Piece | Sengoku & Garp | Hurt & Comfort | Mourning their dead adoptive sons

„Sengoku. I have to do something.“ Garp dug his nails painfully into Sengoku’s arms, but the other did not flinch, only kept holding him in a tight grip.

His (M)

One Piece | Kizaru x Akainu | Thoughts | A side of Sakazuki only Borsalino knows

„Borsalino.“ Sakazuki‘s voice was so sweet when he begged him like this.

Welcome Home (M)

One Piece | Kizaru x Akainu | Smut | Borsalino comes home after a mission

Sakazuki sighed relieved when the door fell shut behind him and stretched, groaning with the ache he felt in his shoulders and neck.

A Moment of Weakness (T)

One Piece | Kizaru x Akainu | Comfort | Sakazuki waking up after the fight with Kuzan

Sakazuki woke up in a room that was way too bright for his eyes and too cold to feel comfortable.

Calendars for the Doctor (T)

One Piece | LawLu | Mutual Pining | Modern AU

Christmas season was hard to plan for Law. Or rather something he did not plan at all.

As Simple As It Can Be (M)

One Piece | LawLu | Soft Smut | Inspired by the Breed Episodes

“Now kiss.” “Kiss? I thought you wanted to make us fight?” Law stayed quiet, while Luffy shouted at Breed.

Helping Hands (T)

One Piece | LawLu | Fluff | Luffy helping Law wash his hair after Dressrosa

“Why are you doing this strawhat-ya?” Law still remembered how Nami-ya had to force the other captain to take a bath.

Tagging: @eriathalia @andaniellight @khepiari @travelertale @chenziee

24 notes · View notes

probssomethingorother · 1 year ago

Text

🚨 NEW CHAPTER! 🚨

I said I was going to turn this out and I did! Whoop whoop. Unfortunately, I have done barely any review on it so good luck folks. Will go back and make fixes soon. Feel free to call out anything glaring/jarring. @eedsknees gave me the idea to include (SPOILER) some nightmare content, so they are lowkey responsible for jump starting the writing process on this one.

Back & Forth: a the last of us fic

post-episode 8 Silver Lake hurt/comfort

Ellie & Joel, both riding the struggle bus, canon compliant

Rating: Mature for dark themes, nothing more than the show

It was Joel who stumbled first. He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it. It was Ellie who moved first after that.

chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 | chp 5 | chp 6 | chp 7 | chp 8 / chp 8 |

chp 9 !!! YAY !!

read on Ao3 with the link above or below the cut, and remember comment where you can! <3

Chapter 9: (warning not proof read, will do that in the AM)

A lifetime ago, he was warned that raising a teenager - a teen girl at that - was going to be one of the hardest things he was going to live through. Joel had just started into the moody teenage years with Sarah before he lost her, they had their small arguments here and there, but really hadn’t quite hit that point where she was talking back, slamming doors, walking away, or giving him the silent treatment. Still, he had done all the mental preparation for the day his teenage girl would suddenly start putting him to the test, but he never thought in a million years that the teenage girl doing it was not going to be his Sarah. No, it was Ellie.

Ellie, who had gone from pouting in silence on the couch to fitfully falling back asleep. From his spot a few feet away, Joel had first thought she was muttering under her breath, talking through something and trying to vent her frustrations, but then he noticed the way her body rose and sank rhythmically. Still turned away from him, he couldn’t see her face to confirm, but after countless nights of looking over her while he took watch, he knew her breathing patterns like a parent knowing their child’s distinct cries.

She was asleep, and deeply; unfortunately, it just wasn’t peacefully.

For a long few minutes, Joel waited in the wingback chair, knee bouncing as he debated how long to let the restlessness go on before intervening. Hunched over with his arms on his knees, he wrung out his hands as he watched each one of her breaths and acutely listened in for what was slipping from her mouth, even turning his head so his good ear pointed more in her direction.

Over the months together he had seen her have a few occasionally, but he had never woken her, and eventually, she did always settle. But now, this just felt different. She had been struggling in her waking hours, it seemed cruel to also let her suffer in her sleep.

“I’m not…don’t,” she softly muttered. The words were more distinct than much of the rest that had been coming from her, and the sense of desperation behind them was painfully evident.

Sighing, Joel stood up with a groan and silently moved closer to her. The blankets were still tightly wrapped around her, constricting her movements to small twitches of her body, clearly unable to manage anything more against the weighty fabric. Her hair splayed across the cushion and fell down her back, which just made Joel realize it now was fully out of its normal ponytail, elastic lost somewhere - maybe forever. In the soft light of the fire, her hair looked almost golden. However, it also meant its tangles and mats were highlighted, strands clumped and bunched in weird spots.

“No….stop…no,” Ellie cried out again, still a soft and breathy slew of words, her body twitching again before settling.

For a moment, it actually looked like she might be calming for good, heavy breaths petering out for a second; so Joel hesitated before making any further moves, hand lingering just above her shoulder. From above, he could now see more of her face. It was contorted with a tightness, brows pushed together and jaw clenched. It looked like she was trying to turn it more into the cushion, hide it away from something, but she could only push in so much into the fabric without smothering herself - even her unconscious body seemed to know that.

Wherever she was, or whatever she was seeing, in her head, couldn’t be anything good.

Suddenly, Ellie’s breathing hitched, a whimper escaping her lips, her eyes fluttering beneath her lids as she relived whatever terror she was experiencing. “Please…,” she whispered.

The sounds tore at Joel's heart.

Enough was enough.

Taking a deep breath, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to shake her awake, “Hey…hey, Ellie. Wake up,” he murmured, voice thick with concern.

But his soft murmurs only seemed to increase her unease. Her breathing grew more rapid, each exhale punctuated by a soft whimper of distress.

"Ellie.." Joel tried again, placing more pressure on her shoulder to tip her onto her back. Her body complied, and she was now supine, but that also only seemed to make things worse for her. The whimpers started to get caught in her throat, her face screwing up like she was about to cry.

"Kiddo, time to wake up," Joel said, a little more sternly as he brought a gentle hand to the top of her head in a small gesture of comfort. It was an old instinct, something he used to do for Sarah when she was too afraid to sleep- gently caressing the top of her head, brushing back her beautiful curls to lull her down. (He later learned she should be in a bonnet when she slept, hair tucked away, but oh well).

He brushed back some of Ellie’s hair too, trying not to get distracted by how utterly dirty it was, bits sticking together by something, making it feel almost crunchy.

“Ple….don’t….that’s…you’re hurting mmm….”

She sounded like she was talking to someone now, and just being in proximity to it made Joel riddled with guilt as if he was the one it was directed at. With another soft sigh, Joel’s hand trailed down her head, past her shoulder, and onto her arm, giving it a squeeze. The move was a bad choice.

Ellie's body immediately jerked away from him, eyes shooting open in terror, as her arm flung out in a wild, blind attempt to get the touch off her.

Her hand connected solidly with the most vulnerable part of Joel- her loose fist hitting his barely stitched-together stab wound, dead center.

Ellie’s hand was tiny, but even so, it fucking hurt so bad. Time seemed to freeze, the sheer intensity of the pain anchoring Joel in agonizing stillness before the sensation hit him in full, like a tidal wave. He saw stars, the bright flecks dancing in front of his eyes as every nerve in his body screamed in agony. It felt like a thousand needles were being driven into his side, radiating outwards in a hot, searing wave of pinpricks that washed through his body from head to toe.

He stumbled back with an unstable step, knocking into the edge of the coffee table before trying to catch himself, only for his legs to do the opposite and give out beneath him. He crumpled to the floor with a deep pained groan, voice ragged and raw, landing with a thump.

For a very long moment, the world seemed distant, muffled, as if he was underwater as he sat still on the floor, hands not even able to clutch at the spot, just ghosting above it. For that same very long moment, Ellie’s eyes stayed fixed wide, now with a different form of terror as she came to terms with what she had just done. Both rattled by the sudden change of events, everything became eerily still between them as the room turned scarily quiet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, played on repeat in Ellie’s head, until finally she was was scrambling to sit up, blankets tangling around her, restricting her movements. With a frustrated groan, she yanked and kicked them away, tossing them angrily aside as she popped off the couch, desperate to check on Joel.

She almost tripped and fell down too, feet getting caught up in the pile of discarded fabric on the floor. The stumble became a somewhat coordinated descent, and she dropped to her knees at his side.

”Oh God, Fuck, fuck, Joel?,” Ellie stammered, her voice laden with guilt. She knelt anxiously beside him, hands hovering, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. His eyes were squinted, brow furrowed, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. He looked as he did when she first put him on that dingy mattress in the basement, just constipated with pain. It made her want to vomit knowing she was now the one to cause it this time.

Still filled with lingering anxiety from her nightmares, Ellie’s body was cracking under all the emotion, tears pricking at her waterline. She fluttered her eyes quickly, trying to get it to stop, but the longer she stared down at Joel the more she felt the tears threaten to spill over.

“Joel? Dude..what- tell me what I can do,” she stumbled out desperately.

Joel could barely register her voice much less what she was saying. A ringing in his ears was now taking over making everything just seem a bit staticky. His eyes wandered around the ceiling for a second before screwing shut, trying to stave off an incoming wave of dizziness.

He couldn’t understand why it hurt so bad, why a hit less than a punch had literally knocked him on his ass.

God fuck if she was able to do this, how was he going to defend them against anything if something did happen?

He groaned then, but from the thought of his inability not the pain. The pain was on a level that far surpassed groans.

“Okay..okay just,” Ellie began, taking his shaky hovering hands and moving them away, “let me look. I’m sorry.. sorry.. sorry,” she finished, biting at her lip as she slowly tried to raise his shirt to see the damage she had caused.

But Joel wasn’t going to let her feel bad for this. Certainly wasn’t going to allow her to make it her responsibility to fix him again. Absolutely not.

Despite the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him, Joel managed to open his eyes. Through the haze, he saw Ellie's panicked face, her deep brown eyes wide with fear.

She had barely gotten his shirt up, it sticking to him with dried blood. "S'okay," he rasped, bringing a hand up to push down the fabric and stop her before she could get much further. "Don’t," slipped out, although he had been going for “don’t worry.”

Ellie stopped moving, but didn’t release the grip on his shirt, worried now that anything she would do would just make it worse. “I- okay - just what - how? What do you need?”

Realizing his poor attempt at speaking before had only made her more anxious, Joel didn’t rush into replying this time. He took a long breath in and out, controlled through his mouth. It made his stomach produce a deep pain when his diaphragm filled and released the air, chest cavity rising and deflating. He pushed his head further back into the cold ground, trying to focus on a different sort of feeling than something beside his side.

“Just gimme…a second.” He pushed out, words complete and mostly steady this time.

Ellie bit her lip, regret evident in her eyes. Releasing his shirt, and with a deep exhale she sat back on her heels, giving Joel space but still close enough to assist him if he needed.

She couldn’t believe she had fucking hurt him. He was still fucking fragile and she really could have done some damage - she knew it. It wasn’t like she had given him world-class first aid in the first place.

“Did I get your stitches?” She asked with apprehension. They were probably so fucked.

“Ellie.” Her name reverberated through the sparsely furnished room, the sound trailing out shakily from a Joel. He might as well have just said, “shut up,” because somehow that’s what it sounded like to Ellie’s ears.

Silence started and dragged on then for several moments as they both waited for Joel’s pain began to recede, neither moving much at all. Every so often there was a small sniffle as Ellie tried to bite back tears.

Joel's voice, rough and filled with exhaustion, broke the monotony.

“Already feeling better,” he offered, after the third sniffle. Ellie had been trying to hide being on the brink of crying, but there wasn’t much space between them for things to be going unheard.

With a roll of her eyes and a huff, she wiped at them with the back of her hands.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying…I’m not a fricken crybaby,” she mumbled, clearly frustrated with herself. Joel hummed in agreement as he began to reposition himself, more focused on not causing himself any more pain than producing a reply to her.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Cause you don’t look okay…” Ellie pushed anxiously, trying to get the focus back on him.

“I’m fine. Just caught me off guard is all.”

They both knew that was a bit of an oversimplification and by the look on Ellie’s face, she wasn’t too happy with his attempt to brush this under the carpet.

"It wasn't your fault," Joel murmured, pushing himself to a sitting position with a wince. Every movement he made seemed to be a battle, a very annoying struggle against the pain that radiated from his side. "You were just reacting... to something else…. probably my fault anyhow.”

Joel's eyes inadvertently flicked down to Ellie's bare thighs, the blue-black hues of bruises evident even in the dim light, as she knelt next to him. He had noticed them earlier, but the immediate crisis then had pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Now, they came flooding back, mind zoning out as his gaze lingered on the red flags that marred her body.

She had been reacting to something else.

“I said don’t touch me motherfucker!”

Broken pants.

“Don’t do it, please don’t do it.”

Scratches on her waistline.

“you’re hurting-”

Begging, even in her sleep.

“Please don’t.”

"Quit staring," Ellie muttered with a hint of bitterness. Drawn from spiraling thoughts, Joel’s eye flicked back up to hers, filled with a genuine concern, and a bit of remorse.

"I wasn’t—“

“You were," she cut him off, her voice filled turning to something else, a mix of exhaustion and defiance as she pulled down her sweatshirt the best she could to cover her thighs. It barely did a thing.

”Let me see your side," she said, moving toward his shirt once more. He held out a hand, stopping her.

He wasn’t going to let her keep avoiding this.

“Tit for tat - you wanna check on me, I wanna check on you,” Joel rasped, his voice carrying an edge of firmness, making it clear that this was really non-negotiable even if presenting it as such.

Ellie’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” she said sternly.

“You ain’t,” he countered, eyes again flicking down to her legs, purposefully this time, brows raised before he came back to meet her eyes. They were as terse as he’d ever seen.

They darted away from his view as she muttered, "It's nothing,” her voice low, but Joel caught the slight tremor in it.

“It ain’t 'nothing'," he pressed firmly.

With an irritated exhale, Ellie rose as her eyes rolled. She stared down at him for a long moment before shooting her hand out for him to grab.

Joel looked at it, and then at her, and then back to it. He hadn’t really anticipated getting up this soon, but he wasn’t going to deny the hand she was extending, metaphorical or physical. He hoped that despite the anger her face showed, the gesture was as much about reconciliation as it was assistance.

Of course, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

With more force than he thought she capable, Ellie helped him move to stand, pulling him vertically and giving him a tight grip to sink into it. She didn’t say a word about the heavy groan that ripped through his body during it all or the way his strong grasp made the cut on the side of her hand burn. She turned away her head from his as he made his way up, not wanting to meet his gaze, and not wanting him to see the way she was making her own body ache with the effort of supporting him. Head drooping toward the floor, she stayed by his side for a moment as he panted through the residual pain, bent at the waist just slightly his free hand on his hip. When he seemed steady enough, Ellie slipped her hand from his, giving it a little shake to rid the irritation in her fingers from his clenched hold.

Marching back to the couch, she aggressively snatched the blankets off the ground and plopped herself onto the worn cushions with a glare and a huff, deliberately positioning the university quilts over her legs to hide it all away.

“Fuck you,” she spat stoically as her body hunched down, arms crossing over her chest.

It had flipped so easily inside her, the switch back to anger and frustration, that it was almost catching her own self off guard. Her stomach felt like it was hanging low, her muscles were all tense, her throat was aching to scream, and her body desperately just felt like picking up the closest thing and heaving it across the room.

She bit the impulse back, stifled down the brewing aggression and frustration - but just barely.

The last time she let herself get swept up in the same feelings a man’s head became sludge on the carpet. Ellie knew she wouldn’t do that to Joel - ever - but she also didn’t want to go anywhere near the emotions that she knew could fuel that sort of thing.

But, that was much harder said than done. And right now, her mind and heart were at odds, unsure of which was actually in control, but either way, one was telling her to make Joel hurt. To make him sad and angry. To make him feel the way she was suddenly starting to again.

“You took off my pants.”

The regret was immediate as she spat the words out with venom, but there was also a sweet satisfaction that came afterward, when the words hung heavy in the air, when the look on his face told her she had it - that soft spot inside of him, that protector persona - easily crushed.

“Ellie..”

She shouldn’t be doing this, not to him, none of this was his fault, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself stop.

“You wouldn’t’ve even known… I never said you could do that, ” she muttered, eyes narrowing.

The color drained from Joel’s face, and for a moment he looked as if he was about to topple over again. He sucked in a long breath, a deep feeling of culpability settling in his heart. It was almost more painful than Ellie’s hand connecting with his wound just moments before - actually, he might prefer round two of that now, then this, or whatever this was shaping up to be.

He knew what he did, knew it had been necessary, but it made him feel dirty all the same. She didn’t have to do much to bring out the guilt when he already felt ashamed.

Slowly, Joel turned and eased himself into the wingback, taking up refuge in the same spot he had watched her battle through the nightmare earlier - a nightmare he was suddenly worried was somehow about him.

Head low, forearms resting on his thighs, palms, and hands anxiously rubbing together, he ground his teeth back and forth, her screams echoing in his ears once again.

A blip of his large hands encircling her tiny bruised wrists as he moved them away, came to mind, coming back to haunt him like he knew it would when had done it. He hummed at the thought, wondering for a second if perhaps he had done something wrong.

Rushed through it, overstepped, and caused more harm than good.

But then thought of how she was fading in and out, how she shaking - so badly - how her skin was like ice - might as well have been a dead body, cold like a corpse.

Joel nodded his head up and down, convincing himself of what he already knew.

There were lots to feel guilty over, but this couldn’t be one of them.

Anxiously, he raised his head and met hers, trying to read her face and not her words. Ellie’s expression was one filled with contempt, but her eyes held a completely different story - a kid broken and scared.

She was hurting, and if the look in her eyes wasn’t enough, the bruises on her face and the blood splatter still staining her complexion were more than enough of a pointed reminder that Joel needed to tread lightly even if she was marching full steam ahead, raging at the world - at him.

She was doing this on purpose, pushing him, but he wouldn’t push her - couldn’t.

He thought back to before, when he came rushing back into the living room fearing she had slipped away in the few moments he had taken to get the blankets. He remembered the small smile on her face when he made his way into her sights, and how she cracked open his heart with her candid confession:

“I’m always gonna come back.”

“I like when you do.”

Centering himself on that memory, and not her screams, Joel ran a hand down the length of his face before brushing it back and forth against the scruff of his beard. He let out a long sigh, a little worried he was about to say the wrong thing.

"I had to..." he began, his voice coming out more as a gravelly murmur than anything else. He stopped, swallowed hard, and tried again. "You were freezin’..." he said remorsefully, but pointedly, a statement of fact and an apology, side by side.

Ellie nodded with a blank expression, purposefully trying to keep her face deadpan. She didn’t remember all that much, but she wasn’t stupid - logically, she knew that’s what happened.

That hadn’t been the point of bringing it up.

“You couldn’t do it yourself, so I had’ta.”

“I told you to stop,” she countered.

Truthfully, she still didn’t remember much of the whole ordeal, but bits were coming back slowly. There were some moments, vague, but there, she could use against him if she wanted - paint a certain image, true or not. All she could see was her arms and hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, yelling at him.

Her gaze found the fire for a moment, landing on the red and orange licks of flames, just past his shoulder.

Hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, red carpet, flames.

“…I was yelling and you kept going…” she said, almost absently, head somewhere else for a twinkle of a second.

She gulped down a growing lump in her throat as her eyes quickly flicked back to Joel, and with a few blinks cleared the images of him away.

Joel opened his mouth to reply but shut it quickly, giving her a nod instead. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

In the very back of Ellie’s head, a small voice was screaming at her to not be an idiot. To stop whatever this was, now, before she took it too far. That he wasn’t him. That this is leftover aggression stuck inside, threatening to ruin something good.

But she couldn’t.

Her jaw clenched tighter as her eyes went hard and steely. Her head was really starting to throb again, and the hot feeling that had been in her gut was now starting to travel up her body, making her throat tight as it also ushered in a bit of nausea.

She was seething so much that she was making herself sick from the intensity of it all. And for what?

She wiggled in her seat, hands going to grip the sides of the couch, knuckles going white, as she lowered her head to stare at the floor, wondering why he wasn’t getting mad like she thought he would.

“I know, you were..” Joel confirmed, hoping that not denying, or trying to belittle it would somehow make this better for her.

He was able to see her demeanor going colder and colder with every moment she sat on the couch, coming to slow a boil like a pot on a stove. Part of him did want to defend himself and go toe to toe with her - it was only natural - but a bigger part of him just wanted to gather her up in another hug and just never let go. Make her emotions quell, stop the roiling.

"I know what your doin'..." he said, shaking his head, "I know you don't mean what you're sayin’."

"I - ah ..," Ellie stuttered, not expecting to be called out. ”Asshole," she said, trying to recover, albeit not strongly, before tumbling along, words spilling from her mouth. “You’re an asshole, and you - if you gave a shit about me then, you wouldn’t have -“

“- Hey now…“ Joel interjected quickly, a grovel in his voice clearly revealing that his calm exterior was cracking away, her words now hitting him with a certain potency. Ellie’s voice trailed off at the sound of his, focus going to watching the change in his body language, his shoulders tensing, eyes moving away, hand rubbing at his thigh.

Of course, he gave a shit about her. After everything?

She really wasn’t making this easy, and now the underlying guilt that still coursed in his veins - that was practically a part of him now - even though he knew it was misplaced - was turning to frustration, and frustration into precarious anger.

And Ellie knew it too, and now she couldn’t hold back. She wanted to pry that spark of anger from behind his eyes and ignite it. Light it on fire like that fucking restaurant.

“Would you have done that to Sa-“

“Enough.” Joel spat, jaw tight, eyes hard.

Sarah.

It was a low blow, even for Ellie.

His heart was thumping in his chest, whooshing in his ears. He knew where the sentence was going the minute, it was coming out of her, and he couldn’t let it stand. He had sidestepped what she had been insulting the entire time - the dark impropriety of it all - because it was just so far from the truth that it wasn’t even worth playing into. But now, bring up something like that, almost accusing him, with his daughter…no. It crossed a line.

With a deep inhale, Joel pushed himself off the chair the pain of it all buried monetarily under his own indignation, only a small wince escaping. The old wood creaked under him, the sound echoing the tension in the room. With a slow-paced stride, his leather boots thudded against the floor, the rhythmic sound resonating through the still air, each deliberate step echoing ominously. His fists were balled tightly as he sad and his face stern.

Ellie watched as he got closer, content that she had finally pushed him over the edge.

She hated herself, but not just for this.

Coming to a still directly in front of her, he lowly began, “You don’t-,” he dragged in a long breath, “you don’t bring her anywhere in this….that ain’t right, and you know it.”

His intention wasn’t to be intimidating - just firm, but standing above her as he was, was a little bit menacing. Ellie gave him a slow nod, eyes looking forward, not up towards him. Her quickening pulse was echoing in her ears, mouth getting a little watery with apprehension.

Joel looked anywhere but down towards her, not wanting to show her any more anger than he already had let slip out. His fingers ran against his palms, still tightly screwed together, as his eyes wandered around the area behind the couch, scanning the kitchen, hoping to use it mundanity as a means to steady himself.

Exhaling through his nose, Joel took a long step back, and then another away, turning his back toward Ellie.

God, bringing his Sarah up like that, now. What was she thinkin’?

Drawing his head up to the ceiling, he called back to that feeling in his gut when he woke up alone in the basement. That feeling in his chest, when he thought he was about to find her body a the end of a trail of blood. That feeling in his heart, when she fell into his arm, scared as all hell.

He shook his head. Ellie was his too.

An oppressive silence stretched between them, the weight of unsaid words becoming almost palpable as Joel swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, debating what to say, how to carry on. It was clear she was just lashing out, generally, but he couldn't let it all slide. Not that easily.

"Trauma ain't a hall pass" - Tommy told him that once.

Sucking in a final long breath, hands going to his hips, Joel turned to face Ellie.

“I know I wasn’t there. But I got to eyes. And I know somethin’ happened to you. And if this is - was? - you tryin’ to make sense about that then, fine. Spit whatever you want at me, okay? Hit me, yell at me, I don’t care…I’ll take it.. I deserve that…cause that’s on me for leaving you alone.” His voice was eerily steady, low, and coarse like how Ellie knew it when he was barking orders at her, way back at the beginning of their journey together. The tenderness that he had exhibited since coming back together seemed to be gone, even though his words painted a different picture. For better of worse, this was the Joel she knew.

“But listen to me. I’m serious Ellie - Listen here.” Joel waited for Ellie to look up and meet his eyes. When she did so, he continued. “Sarah stays far out of it.”

Ellie didn’t make a move, a little stunned by the way he seemed to have his emotions under control, especially after she had expected so much more.

He was going to end it at that, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him he might as well dot all his ‘I’s and cross his ’T’s too.

“And to be clear, I didn’t do anythin’, would never, do anythin’ to you- like what you were getting at.. makes me sick just thinking about it,” his tone was serious, yet his words danced around the hard topic like he wasn’t confident using the real words for it. His mouth turned down as the thought of it stayed in his brain, festering for a moment before fading out.

The look in his eyes had Ellie swallowing back some guilt, tears even beginning to prick at her waterline again.

Joel's hand came to his neck, rubbing away the much-accumulated tension, while looking around the room to search for something else to focus on. His eyes landed on her again - how could they not - and he paused. Blood, bruises, brewing with anger. He could fix some of that.

His eyes went to the pot of water still resting on the coffee table after all this time and then over toward the hallway.

He cleared his throat. “Now, I’m gonna go see if there ain’t something around here to clean you up with.”

It’s said with genuine care, but it's not hard to read that perhaps it’s also a distraction - a misdirection- to take away from the fraught way the conversation had come to a close.

Joel scooted past the couch with a slight limp, heading toward the hallway and out the room, leaving Ellie sitting alone.

46 notes · View notes

biowhore · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Things

hi i've been sad so have a comfort fic with my comfort couple

Gale/Tasha (Tav)

Content: hurt/comfort, no sex, bathing, headaches/migraines, brief positive mention of weight gain, short and sweet, post-canon

Word count: 2.3k

She was drifting when she heard his gentle voice in her ear, “You are so beautiful,” quiet and reverent. Grinning she whispered back to him, eyes still closed, “You just like it when I’m under your spell.” “A heady sensation to be sure, but,” she felt two fingers brush either side of her cheeks, tracing along the delicate scales there, “You have no idea how stunning you look right now.” “Naked in the bath with the Hells knocking about in my skull?” “Exactly,” he murmured, the feather-light brush of his soft lips against hers making her crack open an eye.

Fic list, AO3

These times of hell within her own head haunted Tasha. She used to live her life constantly braced for the next episode, the next round of being chained to a bed in a dark room. Healers helped but did not cure, and she felt no long-term relief until she was ironically host to a terminal parasite.

Long after being cured of the mind flayer tadpoles, those episodes started up again. She had hoped they were gone for good, but she supposed that she had to take some bad with overwhelming good that had come her way after everything. She and Gale had made a wonderful life together, her friends were whole and hale, and wrote to her often. What was a little illness now and then?

This morning she woke to the usual citrus and salt fragrance of their rooms bombarding her nose, the lovely cast of the morning sun through their window piercing at her eyes, and the sounds of Gale through the house and the bustle of Waterdeep outside nearly deafening her. Loud and clear that warning had been. So, she darkened the room, crawled back under her thick covers, and cast a sound dampening bubble around the bed. There was sweet relief for a while, but then the pain came full force as she expected.

Heat flashing through her skin, the muscles of her neck and jaw tightening painfully, the sludgy feeling through her mind, and of course the throbbing pain on one side of her skull. Her familiar demon.

As she breathed evenly through the waves, she suddenly felt a blessedly cool hand on her brow, causing her eyes to flutter open.

“Time again?” Gale asked in a whisper.

All she could do was nod. She closed her eyes again, refocusing on her breathing as she felt him leave her side. The quiet sha sha of his clothes shifting with his movements told her where he was in the room. By the chest at the foot of the bed now, and next came the slow deliberate sound of him attempting to open it quietly. He was retrieving some of the potions she kept on hand from healers for these episodes. They helped with the pain, but her body would still feel wrong, sometimes for a few days when these attacks were at their worst, before the tadpole.

Shuffling feet to her right announced Gale’s return to her side. “Here, love. Can you sit up?”

Tasha propped herself up on her pillow, Gale’s arm hovering across her shoulders. He handed her a deep purple glass vial, stopper already removed, for her to bravely choke back. She shot it back like cheap liquor, grimacing and immediately reaching for Gale’s proffered glass of water to dilute the horrid taste in her mouth.

“Really wish I could help them figure out how to make these taste better,” she groaned, sticking out her tongue.

Gale only smiled at her, helping her shuffle back under the blankets. As she became settled again, closing her eyes, his forehead met hers gently. His fingers at either side of her delicately scaled temples provided magical coolness, a balm to the inferno building behind her eyes.

Whispering still, he asked, “Now, before that kicks in, is there anything you need? Anything you’d like to do? What about a bath, or tea, or food?”

She hummed as she took time to sort through her thoughts between waves of throbbing pain, breathing evenly, Gale’s touch grounding her. A bath did sound nice...

“Maybe a bath first, then tea,” she sighed as his fingers began massaging in small circles, then a thought occurred to her. “Don’t you have classes today?”

“Not anymore.”

“You can’t cancel a full day of classes just for me,” she sighed again. He’d been teaching for a while with the Blackstaff and was quite accomplished.

“Of course I can. Besides, I rather think most of my students appreciate the day off.”

She huffed a tiny chuckle at that, causing a spike of pain in her skull. Sucking air through her gritted teeth, she grimaced, “As much as I love the way you make me laugh, better not for now.”

“Of course my love,” he pecked her nose and pulled away, trailing his fingers along her jaw as he went, “I’ll make sure everything is set up in the bath and come back. Stay put.”

No problems there. She sank into her pillow and let her mind wander a while, listening to the gentle splash of the water filling the tub in the bathroom. A tinkle of glass there, a shuffle here as Gale prepared the bath.

Gale took her hands and helped her out of their bed. It was cozy, not overly large and made of dark wood. It had posts that were carved with vines - very useful when she was in better health, but those fantasies would have to wait.

He led her across the carpets into their washroom. At her insistence it had been renovated when she moved in in order to fit a large and deep tub, kept magically warm for hours, of course. She could sit on a shelf that lined the inside wall and still be covered by the water up to her collarbones. This was worthy of a dragon.

Now she sat with her head leaning on the rim, Gale brushing through her thick straight black hair with a bone comb. He had a slow and gentle pace, the teeth of the comb gliding through her untangled strands, softly scraping her scalp in the most wonderful way. She matched her breathing to his pace, grounding herself to his care. He always kept her tethered to earth when she needed it.

“How are you feeling?” He whispered.

“Seems to be working, but my head is still so foggy.”

“Can I do anything else for you?”

She sighed as she thought, eyes closed. “Hmm... talk to me? Tell me a tale, I love listening to you tell stories.”

She couldn’t see Gale’s cheeks flame, but she’d surely set him off with that compliment. He’d have to behave himself. He cleared his throat, “Well, um. Let me think...”

He continued his slow and methodical motions through her hair, pondering which of his many tales he might regale her with, when an idea came to him. He lowered the comb but his fingers still sorted through her silky tresses, until his hand came to the back of her head. His fingers kneaded the space where her skull attached to her neck, coaxing a small moan from her. Smiling broadly to himself, his forehead lowered to hers.

“Have I told you about when we met?”

“I was there, wasn’t I?”

“Hm, yes, but you weren’t in my mind, even with the tadpole.”

“True... did I stun you with my beauty?”

“Exactly that,” he chuckled, speaking softly, “I thought my prayers were answered, that if anyone could save us it would be you.”

Tasha huffed in response, clearly unconvinced. It was then that she felt his other hand slip into the water and trail down her arm, a loving light caress.

“I thought,” Gale continued, watching her closed lashes flutter, “This contradiction of a creature, with her warm brown skin, icy eyes, and tempest disposition... Well, she knows what she’s doing.”

That brought a full laugh out of her. She shook her head and opened her eyes as Gale lifted his head and dragged his hand back up her arm, resting it gently on the side of her neck. Her eyes always mesmerized him; she had a reptilian pupil and black sclera in the left eye, more of her draconic heritage coming through along with her opalescent scales. Both eyes were a stunning green-blue, icy being a truly apt description in most lights, but when one deigned to look closer, they would find a startling blue flame there, a sure sign of her warm-hearted nature that lay buried under her hard exterior.

Her eyes lit up when she laughed, but then quickly collapsed into a grimace as she touched two fingers to her temple.

“Ah, why must mirth be punished so?” she sighed and sunk lower into the tub. A sharp pulse of pain ricocheted through her skull, overcoming the potion she had taken earlier. After a moment it began to subside, but she was left even deeper in malaise.

“Have you thought of seeing Halsin?”

“No,” she blew out a breath, “My family and I went to many healers as a child, none of them Halsin, mind, but they could not fix this. They only help ease the symptoms.”

“Still, I’m curious what Halsin would have to say.”

“I’ve thought about it since these attacks have come back. You and he together might have interesting theories, I’m certain, but I also think fixing it would involve some sort of meddling in my brain that I’ve had enough of for one life.”

Gale chuckled at that, “No arguments there, my love. Rest now, let me take care of you.”

She dipped her head below the water to wet her long hair, staying under for a moment. The warmth relaxed the muscles in her face and scalp, a welcome relief as the earlier pain ebbed away. When she surfaced again Gale was there with soap and nimble fingers, digging into the roots of her hair and massaging her into a limp mess at his mercy. Her head lolled against the rim of the tub, her jaw slack, arms floating limp.

She was drifting when she heard his gentle voice in her ear, “You are so beautiful,” quiet and reverent.

Grinning she whispered back to him, eyes still closed, “You just like it when I’m under your spell.”

“A heady sensation to be sure, but,” she felt two fingers brush either side of her cheeks, tracing along the delicate scales there, “You have no idea how stunning you look right now.”

“Naked in the bath with the Hells knocking about in my skull?”

“Exactly,” he murmured, the feather-light brush of his soft lips against hers making her crack open an eye.

When he pulled back she grinned at him again, “Dry and oil my hair then take me to bed, wizard.”

“Yes my lady,” he did not miss a beat and gave her a quick wink before helping her rinse the soap from her hair. He guided her to lean her head back, letting her hair drip down the side of the tub. With a soft cloth he patted most of the moisture out, then used a simple spell to create an air current between his palms. The air tickled the tips of her ears as he worked and she let her mind wander. Again, the bone comb was meticulously run through her strands as he applied oil to the bottom half, leaving the dark curtain of her hair soft, shiny and smelling of roses.

Finished, he guided her up out of the water with small touches to her shoulders, her hips, her hands. She stood on a woven grass matt as he dried her skin with a linen sheet. His hands never ruffled, never lingered, but continued his methodology over her body. He kneeled before her, eyes upturned, as he moved the cloth over her legs, even between her toes. Tasha was ever moved by his careful handling of her at her weakest, but never making her feel weak. A soft smile stretched her lips, her hand reaching out to trail down his cheek and jaw, following the old path of the magic that once doomed him. Her fingertips passed through the transition from textured skin to neat scruff, ending at his chin and falling away back to her side, their eyes never leaving each other.

She felt his hands glide like wings upward to the space behind her knees. Her left knee had a dusting of scales that he passed quickly on his way over her thighs up to her hips, where more grew in a pattern that painted a V shape over her abdomen. He paused there, roaming over the softness that had widened her hips and rounded her belly since they had saved the world and taken up academics. Gale seemed to love that about her, that his food and their new life together had helped her “bloom” as he liked to say. She simply gained weight, but she wasn’t about to stop him from describing her in such flattering flowery language.

The slight callouses on his palms tickled her soft umber skin as he leaned forward and rose up from his knees. His arms encircled her and lifted her up with him, fulfilling his agreement to take her to bed. Legs wrapped around his waist, arms over his shoulders, and head tucked into his neck, her heart melted to the floor as she was brought back to their bed.

The satin bedclothes were a siren song as her skin brushed against them, and she scuttled further beneath the thick batting-filled blanket. Gale was there beside her as she finally got comfortable, reaching out and taking her fingers in his.

“I’ll likely sleep all day but I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “What will you get up to today?”

“Keep an eye on you.”

“Not much to keep an eye on when I’m asleep.”

“You’ve got to eat, don’t you?” He slipped his fingers from hers and lightly tapped the tip of her nose, “Besides, I’ve got a lot of reading to catch up on. No reason I can’t do both.”

Tasha shook her head at him, eyes beginning to flutter.

Gale grinned at her warmly, “Rest, love. Don’t worry about me and let me worry about you.” He reached out again to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be right here.”

She sighed and did as she was bidden, slowly drifting off in the comfortable silence between them. Eventually she felt his weight lift from the bed and his soft steps fade into the background, her mind traveling with him as she sank into pleasant rest.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gale/tav #gale/tasha #gale x tav

24 notes · View notes

that-wildwolf · 1 year ago

Text

So uh how do you post fic to tumblr?

i wrote a thing and it's not a fic but it's not not a fic and uh yeah

────────────

Pain lasts.

It's something that Shepard has learned long ago but that always surprises her when she realises it. Pain lasts long after its source has disappeared.

She can still feel the leg she lost, still feels ache in what is no longer there. She wakes up in the middle of the night, clutches the empty sheets where it should be. It still hurts.

She can still feel the raw despair of losing Anderson, of losing Thane and Mordin and Legion and Miranda and Alenko and everyone else she's lost. Years pass and they're still gone, and it still hurts.

She can still feel the pain of leaving Garrus behind whenever he looks at her the way he did that last time in London. She feels his pain, and she feels her own, and they don't speak a word. It still hurts.

Pain lasts. Shepard knows that and she sees it in herself and she sees it in Garrus, and she still doesn't understand it. She doesn't understand why everything still hurts even long after it's supposed to stop. She doesn't understand why years pass but the pain doesn't.

She doesn't understand it, but she has always accepted it. Both she and Garrus have learned to live with the pain.

There is no innocence between them, no hoping for the best, no naiveté. There is no hope that things will get better. They just… get through every single day. Sometimes with ease, sometimes without ease, but always, always with dread that things will get so much worse. For every good day, there is a bad day. For every smile, there is a tear. For every good news, there's bad news.

But for all the hate and all the sadness, there's love. For every panic attack, there is love. For every tear, there is love. For every moment of loneliness or fear, there is love. Love is what prevails. Love is what keeps them going. Love doesn't disappear. Unlike everything else, love lasts. What they have... lasts.

Shepard's never known relationships to be like that. She subconsciously waits for the moment it implodes. That's what happens when people are in love, right? They fall out of love. They grow tired of each other.

It doesn't happen this time.

She treads carefully, not sure when this will end. It's got to end eventually, right? They can't just... stay in love forever, right? That's not how life works. That's not...

She doesn't understand it. She doesn't understand why love lasts this time. Why she doesn't grow tired of him. He's always there. Shouldn't she find that infuriating? Shouldn't he resent her for her mood swings and panic attacks? Shouldn't she find his depressive episodes too difficult to deal with? Shouldn't they be tired or even exhausted of being in this painfully co-dependent relationship?

Shouldn't they have fallen out of love by now?

"What are you thinking about?"

Garrus looks up at her, tiny brush in hand, for the moment looking away from his current task of painting her nails.

Shepard closes her eyes. A small smile spreads across her face as she holds his face in her free hand. The soft skin on the underside of his chin always surprises her. It's nothing like the usual roughness of his hide. Of course, as soon as she rubs her fingers on that spot, he starts purring. He always does. He does it for her, because she likes it, because it makes her smile, because she told him once that she liked it. So now he does it every time.

"You're going to laugh if I tell you," she chuckles.

"Shepard, honey, I promise I won't laugh at you." Garrus flicks his mandible — a small, lopsided smirk.

"I was thinking about how I love you."

He smiles, but now it's nothing like that sly smirk. Now, his whole face brightens up and his eyes sparkle. This is a genuine, happy smile. This is the best expression she's ever seen on his face. Every time he smiles like this, Shepard feels her will to live replenish completely. Fuck it, she's willing to do anything, to give up everything, as long as he continues to smile like this. She's ready to do whatever it takes to protect that smile.

"You were?" Garrus looks at her with that beautiful, genuine smile plastered all over his face and she wants nothing more than to hug him so tight it hurts.

"Yeah, I... was." Shepard bites on her bottom lip. His joy is out of place here. Her thoughts were not as pure and kind as he probably thinks they were. They weren't... nice. "But it wasn't... It's not what you think."

He wrinkles his nose. That smile she loves so much is gone within seconds. She hates being the thing that takes it away.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says quickly. "Yeah, I'm... fine. I just... One of those days, you know."

"Alright." Garrus sits up in front of her, all business now. "Remember your breathing exercises. It's all about mindfulness. Here." He takes her hand and places it on her chest, over her heart. "Deep breath in. Feel the air in your lungs under your hand."

Shepard smiles. She's far from a panic attack, far from anxious enough to need this exercise right now, but... She might just indulge for his sake. If it will help set his mind at ease.

She takes a deep breath, and keeps her eyes on their joined hands as her chest rises. When she glances up at Garrus, she finds that he’s entirely focused on watching the rise and fall of her chest — she doesn’t doubt for a moment that he’s counting the seconds, measuring each of her breaths, because that’s just how he is. It takes her another second to recognise that the way he’s holding her hand allows him to keep his thumb on her wrist, to feel her pulse.

Shepard frowns when she sees that complete focus in his eyes. He always gets like this. As soon as anything even remotely upsetting comes up, he needs all the physical evidence he can possibly get to believe that she’s alright. Touching her chest has stopped being sexual — it is now just a sign of worry, of trying to reassure himself. Holding her hand is no longer romantic; it’s just him being scared. He doesn’t trust her words anymore, doesn’t believe her when she says she’s alright. He needs to know for sure, needs to check for himself.

Maybe, Shepard thinks, he’s lost her too many times now. Maybe he won’t ever be able to be calm about this, about her.

But — and that thought is comforting enough for her to actually grab his hand and gently move it off her chest — he still loves her.

Despite it all, despite the darkest and messiest parts of her, he still loves her.

Through the worst the galaxy has thrown at them, thrown at her, he still loves her.

For all the pain he’s had to endure, for all the difficulties of being with her, he still loves her.

He still loves her. She still loves him. Shepard is under no illusion about them: they’re extremely messed up, extremely damaged people. Maybe Garrus is the only person who could love her now. Maybe she’s the only person who could love him. She’s not so stupid as to say that what they have is what they wanted, but she’s not pessimistic either. She can see that the love is there, she can see that love lasts.

She still doesn’t understand it. She doesn’t understand why he still loves her any more than she can understand why she still loves him.

No, she doesn’t understand it.

But she never doubts it.

#shakarian #mass effect fanfic #mass effect not fanfic #i dont know what to call this

35 notes · View notes

tarisilmarwen · 2 years ago

Text

Rebels Rewatch: "In The Name Of The Rebellion"

In which you owe your crazy conspiracy uncle an apology. XD

Live reaction version.

Ya-vin, Ya-vin, Ya-vin, Ya-vin. :D

Per the dialogue we are setting down on Yavin for the very first time. Apparently I was confused about this the first time around but it's very obvious now that Kanan, Sabine, Ezra, and Chopper broke off from the flotilla at some point in order to head to Mandalore while Hera and Zeb et. al. continued on to Yavin.

As I noticed in my first watchthrough there's a bit of the Rebel Sullust cue in here.

Ezra worrying about Hera crashlanding while Kanan has complete faith in her aww.

"I've seen worse landings." Fpfpfgkjhkf Kanan plz. It should not have taken this long to crack a blind joke.

This time through it's much more obvious to me that Ezra's expressing sympathetic leanings towards Saw and his methods out of frustration over Lothal, a niggling desire to hit back at the Empire hard out of anger. He keeps bringing up the fact that they've promised to help Ryder and his cell and he feels let down by the Rebellion's new hesitance to take action, to defer liberating his planet to "later".

Oh ouch this moment with the map resonates more painfully now with Jedi: Survivor's release and Cal's paralyzed despair over just how big and overwhelming the Empire is.

Ezra's signature is so troubled Kanan can pick it up from feet away. :((((((

Love this soft moment of the two meditating and talking.

I think I've already said my piece about the whole "How we choose to fight" theme, as it is contrasted by Saw "He Who Fights Monsters" Gerrera and Mon "Lawful Good" Mothma so I'll just enjoy this and move on again.

Sabine backing Ezra up on his sentiments about hurting the Empire. <3

"If we destroy the relay the Empire will just build another one." Mmmmmm that kind of depends. Do they have the resources and manpower to spare for that kind of construction project ready and available on the fly? That thing isn't exactly small. Wasting the Empire's resources and buying yourselves time is in fact a valid strategy.

Given that Hera shares Ezra's feelings completely but can't disobey orders, it's arguable that her line here is self-justification or what she's rehearsed as the expected excuse.

Eyyyy the Sabezra Halo jump! Accompanied by lovely music cue.

You know I gotta cap the mid-mission hand catching. <3 Oh and it's even punctuated with Ezra's theme, nice.

Lol Chopper just face-planting into the antenna base.

You know what? I'mma headcanon Chopper botched the spike install on purpose because he wanted to blow the disc too.

That he backs up Ezra's "idea" is only reinforcing that for me. Because this is a terrible idea, Ezra honey, no.

"Oh that is just so typical of our luck." Lol.

<3333

It's adorable how Sabine packed detonators just in case.

Music is really on point this episode.

Shut up and let me enjoy this.

Kanera trust flight moment. <333

Still love how Saw basically kidnaps Ezra and Sabine here and how pissed Hera is about it.

Aaaaaand goodbye Brom Titus. You could seriously make a drinking game out of how many named Imperial officers from previous seasons bite it in this one.

They look a LOT more uncertain despite agreeing to be here in the heat of the moment.

They are Not Impressed, lol.

Hey yet more evidence Sabine isn't Force Sensitive, she can't hear the kyber crystal.

Saw does sound crazy to the kids and to the wider Rebellion but remember, he's ultimately vindicated. The Empire was building a giant superweapon in secret.

Rebels said when in doubt always mistrust your government, I mean what.

Love the kalimba and xylophone in this track here.

LOL THE PERFECT COMEDIC TIMING OF THE SHRILLEST STORMTROOPER SCREECH RIGHT AS THE DOORS CLOSE ON EZRA LEAPING ONTO HIM LOLOLOL.

Saw's so hyperfocused on the actual weapon he doesn't realize these prisoners are yet more proof of his theory.

I'm amazed Saw is still using just stun blasts here.

Gotta say, very effective jump scare with the Deathtroopers here. Also love the horror movie vibes of our trio taking out the Troopers in the smoke here.

This is such a pretty sequence. It makes the kyber crystal seem like some kind of archaic magic artifact. Which, I mean, it is.

Chopper's interactions with the prisoners is such a fun running gag.

Love this little moment of Ezra clearing the Troopers for Sabine. What a gentleman. :)

Yeah so the number one way to get me to not like Saw is still to have him hurt Ezra.

Hi Slavin!

Saw being so obsessed with the big picture of his cause that it makes him apathetic to the plight of the people suffering under the Empire's hand. Thrawn parallels much?

(Oh hello moment that helped make "Reflections" wind up three times longer than planned.)

And the major difference between Ezra and Saw (and by extension Ezra and Thrawn)? Ezra is not willing to step on others in order to gain a victory.

Yeah no, regardless of how right he is, leaving Ezra and Sabine on an exploding ship was a dick move.

Still love Ezra getting to be badass against the Deathtrooper commander.

Shades of Season One "Breaking Ranks".

Aaaaaand bye Slavin.

I love them your honor.

At times I kind of wish this could have been the premiere because it's just so much fun. Has that nostalgic OT feel and sets up the new status quo much better. Ezra and Sabine get lots of lovely interaction and the themes of previous seasons are continued, with Ezra coming to an internal realization that he won't sacrifice the people in front of him now to some unseen "greater good". Which positions him perfectly to be a foil to Thrawn. <3 And sets up our return to Lothal, to fight the war the Rebellion thinks is still far off.

There's so much to like about this two-part episode. It's one of my favorites.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabezra #rebels rewatch #liveblog #i have been battling a fever the past two days so i have very little energy even for this #hopefully i'll be better soon.

34 notes · View notes

hiramaris · 2 years ago

Text

Dusk til Dawn

Part 10

Summary: Following Episode 9. And spoilers for Episode 10.

Author’s note: As Episode 10 is just released I just want to say heads up for those who are not yet finished. Completing the game without spoilers really made a difference, and as much as possible I want everyone to experience that. And for those finished, I’ll gladly welcome you to my domain where MC took a different route.

Disclaimer: I do not own Duskwood or any of the related characters. Duskwood is created by and owned by Everbyte Studio. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Duskwood story belong to Everbyte Studio.

Warning: Mentions of blood, suicide, violence, pedophiles, drugs, gun, murder, sex offenders, kidnapping

Gif not mine (please kindly inform me if anyone of you knew)

Y/n's really leaving.

It's the mantra that kept playing over Jessy's head like a broken record player.

As Jake dropped the call, you hadn't had the chance to spare them any more glances as you prepared your things. You had inspect the gun you have with you along with its ammunition multiple times already. You even took out a hunting knife and place it in a holster wrapped around the side of your leg.

She shivered at the thought you even had to use them.

When you confessed about your true self, what she said was true. Nothing had changed about what she thought of you. You're still Y/n, the one she had grown to care and love.

Yes, love. She knew love is such a deep word to use when she had only met you not too long ago. She believed before that finding love online is futile, and it was difficult to establish trust with some strangers she met online. Her boyfriend was able to cheat on her after years of being physically together, what more can someone from miles away where they'll be away from her sight and touch?

But when you came, all these doubts seemed to wash away. The fact you made her feel safer more than anyone else just by merely being on a phone with her, making her feel special just by asking her on a virtual date, making sure she's okay and the occasional sleep calls with you, none of the people she had dated made her feel the same way you do and you weren't even here physically.

There's no room for doubt anyway. Not when you had risked your life for this group many times already.

Now as she watch your back, ready to risk your life for the last time, she realized that you really are determined to go.

And she didn't have the heart to stop you.

She wanted Hannah and Richy back. She really does. But at the expense of you? That's something she finds hard to accept. She knew you were fully capable, but that doesn't do anything to ease her worries.

What if you get hurt?

What if you don't come back?

The mere thought clenches her heart so painfully that breathing felt like a chore now.

"Guys, please don't give me that look."

The cabin was so silent that the request that left your lips seemed louder than ever.

****

The next few minutes of preparation were a lot of crying on the girls and Thomas' end. Dan, well, his tipsy ass kept passing you drinks (that Lilly always takes away from you). You assumed that's his way to say 'Be careful.'

You appreciate what he's doing though. You didn't want to leave them feeling like this. Like they just sent you to your death and they can't do anything about it.

After leaving everyone's safety to Dan, you decided it's time to go.

You were surprised when Jessy volunteered to walk you to the porch. You assumed she wanted to say goodbye properly.

The porch was bathed in moonlight when you stepped outside, casting long shadows on the wooden planks. You turned to her, her red hair illuminated by the soft glow.

"Jess," you began. "I'm sor—"

"Don't," she sniffed, stopping you from your statement. "I'm sorry I'm making it hard for you to leave. F-for... for being selfish." Her voice cracked. "I just... it's dangerous and I— God. I just didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry..."

You couldn't help but wrap her in your arms. You held her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You've got nothing to apologize for, baby."

"There's a lot. And a lot to thank for, too," she breathed, leaning into your embrace for dear life. "And I'd like to tell all of them to you once you come back."

"You mean..." Your eyes widened at her implications.

"Yeah... I'm letting you go." The way she lets out those words seemed like it's physically hurting her. She lets out a watery laugh, "and It's not like my opinion matters this time."

You couldn't believe what you are hearing. You leaned back to her embrace, hands carefully gripping her by the shoulder. Puffy, tear-filled eyes met your own.

But they are not begging you to not go this time, but begging you to come back.

"It matters." You reached out and gently cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing against her skin, eager to make your point across. "It sounds so screwed up and yet," you paused, your eyes boring into her own with great intensity. "you can tell me to stay, and I will."

Whatever may happen tonight is a huge gamble to play.

Lose and you will lose everything.

Win.

That's all there is to it.

Fight and win.

You can't afford to lose. Not now.

"No... No, Y/n." She shook her head gently, her touch on your hands warm and comforting. "We both know that's not who you are."

"Jessy..." Your eyes softened drastically.

"Save Hannah and Richy, okay?" She took hold of your hands on her cheeks, her voice quivering but determined. Despite the tears running down her cheeks, there was a fierce resolve in her expression. "If there's anyone who could do it, it would be you, Y/n/n."

Her words hit you deep, like a surge of energy coursing through your veins. She had an unwavering belief in you, and it only made you more determined to succeed. The lump in your throat grew, and you didn’t trust your own voice enough to speak without breaking. And so, you did the only thing you thought would convey your emotions best at that moment.

Leaning in, you brushed your lips against hers in a tender kiss. It was a mixture of longing and reassurance, a promise that you'd come back to her. There was a softness in the way your lips met, a silent exchange of emotions that words could never fully capture. When you finally pulled away, her eyes were teary but determined.

She tasted like salt from her tears, the faint sweetness of strawberries, and the familiar comfort of home.

"I love you," she whispered as you both separated, her breath warm against your lips. Your eyes widened at her confession, a mix of surprise and joy filling your chest. "Don't," she breathed, eyes still closed. "I'll wait for you to say it back once you come back. I just want to say it."

"You're no fair, Miss Hawkins." A watery laugh escapes you, and you couldn’t resist the pull any longer. You leaned in, capturing her lips in another tender kiss.

"Just want to make sure, Agent," she replied, her voice holding a hint of teasing. "Now go, save our friends, and come back to me."

It looks like you have to speed up the process because waiting for days to say it back is going to kill you, you’re sure.

Despite everything, despite the danger that lay ahead, you found yourself smiling.

You were still under the same sky, and somehow, that thought gave you comfort.

Everything’s going to be okay.

****

"Any updates on Michael's whereabouts?"

These were Jake's first words to you as he entered the car. You didn't have to look to know it was him. The same monotonous voice can be recognized from miles away. The heavy door of the car clicked shut, sealing the two of you in the confined space.

Oh, and of course. How could you forget? The guy loves his comfy hoodie so much, his mask, and his favorite beanie that his mom personally crocheted for his birthday. Even in these circumstances, he still clung to his attire like a security blanket.

"None so far," you settled on as a reply.

You started the engine once again and sped past the mini stop you and Jake agreed upon on. It was a little far from the cabin but it was relatively closer to Jake's hotel.

Tonight was cold and you wouldn't really blame Jake for his chosen clothing. However, this type of cold is something a warm coffee couldn't handle. It was the type where it send chills down your spine, you felt a sense of impending doom, not for you but for Hannah and Richy. Time is against you two and you know from experience that time is an opponent you cannot win against.

"You know you really don't have to do this."

"I have to. It is the best option we have. You have put yourself in danger for long enough. Listening to Michael's demand would be suicide. That is why I cannot allow you to go alone, but at the same time, I cannot allow Hannah and Richy to be in danger. They are both in the Ironsplinter Mine. I can almost pinpoint their exact location. I cannot say how long this will be the case." Jake's voice remained steady, his tone unemotional, though his words conveyed a sense of urgency and conviction.

"I didn't know you'd be this talkative personally," you chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I am glad to be doing this 'kamikaze' mission as Dan would like to say, with you."

"Indeed, we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have, Jake. Yes, we have."

The car ride continued in a comfortable silence. There was an understanding between you and Jake that didn't require many words. It felt weird but right in some way, like two puzzle pieces that somehow fit together despite being from entirely different sets.

Both of you are polar opposites. An investigator and a criminal. Who would have thought both would remain seated in a confined space and talk about the most random things.

If someone would tell you you'd be partnering up with a hacker and probably one of the most wanted criminals in this part of Europe, you'd probably give that person a glare of a lifetime, yet here you are with Jake.

Indeed, you'd come a long way.

****

"Y/n," Jake began after minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" You turn to look at him briefly, careful to not let your eyes stray for too long away from the road. You wouldn't want to have a repeat of Hannah and Amy's mistakes. The forest was dense, and the road was illuminated only sporadically by dim streetlights. With its numerous twists and turns, you couldn't afford any distractions.

"I wish to ask one last favor of you." He continued as he typed away on his laptop. The hum of the car's engine and the occasional tapping of his keyboard filled the space between his words.

"Sure, what do you want me to do?"

"I would like to ask you to tell Michael that you are on your way to the Grimrock." He looked up at you, his gaze steady and serious.

"Makes sense," you mused. Slowing down a touch, you pulled out your phone and started composing a message to Michael, ensuring to keep your driving steady at the same time.

You grinned at your own antics. You showed your phone to Jake, knowing he shares the same humor as you.

"Seriously?" He lets out a soft laugh, the subtle crinkles around his eyes giving away his amusement. "This should not be a laughing matter, however, I find it really funny."

You snorted, unable to suppress your chuckle. "I just can't miss the opportunity."

****

"I don't get it, you know?" You mumbled aloud, the words escaping your thoughts unintentionally. It felt like you needed to voice your confusion, even if just to the air in the car.

"Hmm?" Jake turned to you with a quizzical look, his attention fully on you now.

"Thomas is right." You muttered after a beat or two, your gaze fixed on the road ahead as the car continued its journey. The cave on the outskirts of Moonvale was getting closer with each passing mile. "I am literally the highest-ranking criminal investigator in the region. I don't get why you're all so protective of me. I am fully capable of subduing someone like Michael. I've been trained for it for years." You voiced your thoughts with a hint of frustration in your tone. "I'm just not used to it," you exhaled sharply, your breath carrying a mixture of resignation and confusion.

"Jessica cares for you," Jake responded slowly, each word carrying weight as if he was carefully considering the impact. "You can be Superman, and be all invincible and she'll still be worrying about you. You cannot take that away from her. The same goes for everyone. They have grown to care for you."

"But what about Hannah and Richy?" you countered.

He didn't respond immediately, his fingers still dancing across the keyboard.

"Just because they don't want you to go doesn't mean they don't care about them. It just means they don't want you to go, however, it wasn't really their choice to make as the situation still demands you to go. It's not really a matter of choice of who is more important than who, and who is more capable than who." Jake's gaze met yours, his expression serious. "Remember your question back then, when Jessy was attacked and you were ready to fly here?"

"How far is too far when it comes to saving a life?"

"Precisely. Life is life, Y/n. No one will be greater than the other. We do not want you to put yourself in danger just because you have the capacity to do so."

"And you're allowed to do the same thing?" You scoffed. You know Jake's response was logical, but it didn't quite quell your frustration. "Why can't the same rules apply to both of us? I have seen that they are mostly relieved to be knowing it will be you who will go rather than me. And I saw their distress when I decided to come along, too, Jake."

You wanted to say it's unfair because it is.

"Y/n, you cannot blame them."

"I am not. It's just not fair." There you said it.

"You have formed a bond with them. A genuine one, it will only be natural for them to be more worried about you." He tried to explain. "I have threatened them and invaded their privacy on multiple occasions. That's why I do not expect them to warm up to me the way they have to you."

You wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. If they have known you have access to their private data as well, would they have thought of you the same?

You don't even want to know.

You sighed. You're also being unfair to them, thinking about them like this. They have accepted you for who you are, and you having access to their private account seemed to be shallow compared to what you have done, and yet they turned a blind eye to them.

This is some fucked up shit, really.

"But what about me?" You spoke softly, almost to yourself. "You have formed a genuine bond with me. So, my opinion for you not to go doesn't matter?"

"It meant the world to me, Y/n. That you cared for me. But I have already made the decision to protect you at any cost." He said softly. "I have been on the run for four years. One event changed my whole life completely. I lost everything in a single night. My home, my identity. Every single person in my life, Y/n. There was nobody I could trust even though I did not want to."

"I am sorry to hear that." You let out a sigh. "I just didn't want you to think that no one cares about you."

"There is no need to be sorry," he replied, ruffling your hair, which earned a playful groan from you. "I knew what I was getting into. I made that decision."

"But that doesn't mean it's not hard."

"You do not have to sacrifice your life and career for me. I am already used to running away. I also knew you wanted a life here, with Jessica, and the others. I will not take that away from you."

You smiled sadly. Yes, you do want that.

But will the situation permit you? You're not entirely sure.

"Don't you ever have the desire to stay here with Lilly and Hannah?" You questioned back. "And live a normal life?"

"Of course, I do." He answered, eyes growing a bit distant. "However, I know it will be impossible."

"Can you maybe stop predicting things, Jake?"

"You and I both know how this will all end."

"Do we?" You challenged, a small smirk creeping into your features. "Maybe we should start trying for a few alternatives."

"What do you mean?"

****

"Well, here we are," you announced as you parked the car. The headlights illuminated the end of the road, revealing the entrance to the cave. It wasn't exactly a picturesque spot, with a glaring red "No Trespassing!" sign catching your attention. "Looks like it's pretty isolated."

Jake stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him, and took in the surroundings. The air was heavy with anticipation, and the looming darkness of the cave entrance only added to the eerie atmosphere. "Seems like no one's really allowed around here," he observed.

"Hmm, so I guess we don't have any choice. We're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way," you said, stretching your fingers and rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension from the long drive.

"By old-fashioned, you mean breaking and entering?" Jake quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you grinned. "Cleo would be so proud of us."

A soft chuckle escaped Jake. "She does have a reputation for breaking in."

"Shall we contact the others?"

"Yes, that would be ideal," Jake agreed, his expression serious as he retrieved his phone.

****

"Hello?" you greeted everyone, your voice carrying through the phone's speaker.

From the other end of the call, a collective sigh of relief seemed to escape.

"Oh my goodness, there you are!" Lilly exclaimed.

"You've been gone for ages," Jessy added, her voice tinged with concern.

"They were only gone for a little over an hour, Jessy," Dan interjected. "Hey there, Sherlock and Hackerman. How's it going?"

"Oh shush it, Dan. One hour is long enough." Jessy shot back with a playful roll of her eyes. "How are things going, you two?"

"We have reached the Ironsplinter mine," Jake told them.

"Yeah, see this big opening with these do not cross tapes all over it?" You explained, turning your phone's camera to capture the scene. The cave's opening was imposing, shrouded in darkness and warning signs. "That's the entrance. We're going to have to cut through the tapes and climb our way through to enter."

"Yeah," Cleo's voice came through the phone. "So, technically no one should be allowed inside?"

"Exactly," you replied, a playful grin in your voice. "I can now see why you like breaking in."

A burst of laughter echoed on the other end of the call, most notably from Dan. "Good one."

"Seriously, Y/n?" Cleo can only facepalm in exasperation. "I was afraid Dan has already corrupted you, and it was only a few hours since you arrived here."

"Hey! I'm not that bad."

"Anyway, there will be instances where we will be suddenly offline, but don't worry. The reception here is just really unreliable as you can imagine." You informed them.

"I thought as much," Thomas chimed in.

"Thanks for the heads up," Lilly added.

"We're lucky to even have any reception at all," Cleo remarked.

"Be careful, both of you," Jessy's voice held genuine concern.

"We'll keep you updated as soon as we can, okay?" You assured them before ending the call. Turning to Jake, you said, "Now, shall we head inside?"

****

In the dim light of your flashlights, you and Jake ventured into the cave's mouth. The air grew cold and heavy, laden with dampness that clung to their skin like a shroud. The walls seemed to close in, the jagged rock formations looming like the teeth of some ancient, evil creature.

"Comfy," you whistled as the interior of the cave unfolded before you. If the outside was already pitch black, then the inside is pretty much the epitome of darkness. Outside, at least there was the moonlight to help you make out your surroundings, but inside? If you hadn't brought flashlights, you'd likely be navigating blind. "Creepier than I imagined."

"Well, considering its history, it has all the right to be called creepy," Jake mentioned while examining his map. "During my research, I found out quite a bit about this mine."

"Sounds like you," you playfully nudged him.

"I wanted to be prepared, just like you," he scoffed. "I'll handle the tech stuff, while you do your agent thing."

"Jake, I'm everything but prepared." You sighed as you navigated the uneven terrain, moving with cautious grace. Your steps echoing softly. The cave's floor was uneven, a mosaic of rocks and pebbles. Occasionally, you would need to clamber over a protruding rock or duck beneath a low-hanging stalactite. "I just want to get them both back," You added after a while.

"Since when did Dolos come unprepared?" he remarked, his flashlight tracing patterns on the cave's wall.

"Guess there's a first time for everything," you conceded with a shrug. The cave's darkness seemed to breathe, and an unnerving ambiance hung in the air.

"Dolos... the spirit of trickery, a master at cunning deception, craftiness, and treachery," he mused. The glow of the flashlights danced along the tunnel's walls as you both continued deeper into the cave. "I can see why you chose that alias. It has quite fit you apparently."

"I'm not sure if I'll take that as a compliment." You raised an eyebrow. Did he just call you a liar? Just in a metaphoric way?

"It is a compliment," he affirmed as he led you to a tunnel on the right. The narrow passage led you deeper into the heart of the cave, each step echoing softly against the rocky walls. "I was fascinated by you from the start. It's no secret that I have access to all private and public information of this group. But I do not have access to yours." He paused, his tone contemplative. "And I know you only let me access your phone because it's a dummy phone that only has your private messages with them, nothing else." He continued, his footsteps echoing faintly. "You know the basic tricks in hacking, and there are also instances where you've demonstrated advanced techniques. Things that a normal citizen wouldn't have knowledge of."

"I am a covert agent for a reason," you replied, your voice steady in the echoing tunnel. "As a master in psychology, it is easy for me to deceive my targets, which is a vital tool in becoming an undercover agent."

"What I am saying, Y/n is that you're the only one capable to subdue Michael." He paused for emphasis before continuing. "Play with his brain the way Dolos would."

"Roger that." You smirked. "Though it surprises me you'd known about Dolos a lot already."

"Maybe Dan is not the only biggest fan of yours."

****

"I must say, it's quite smart of him to use this mine to hide Hannah and Richy," Jake commented as you both treaded cautiously through the depths of the cave.

"Because it's so extensive," you nodded, the beam of your flashlight cutting through the darkness.

"Correct," Jake affirmed. "The Ironsplinter Mine has a total length of more than 60 miles. The main entrance in Terrendale has turned into a museum, with a part of the tunnels accessible to visitors." He gestured at different parts of the map. "However, most of the tunnels beyond that point are blocked off and in danger of collapsing. I'd estimate that Michael has about 30 miles of tunnels at his disposal."

"A perfect place to hide," you agreed, a thoughtful expression on your face. Then, a realization struck you. "Jake, what if he's been hiding here from the beginning?"

"Then we must assume that he knows his way around quite well," Jake said through gritted teeth. The tension in the air grew as you both continued your journey, maintaining a brisk pace while staying alert.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, your hand never straying far from your weapon. Being ambushed by Michael Hanson was not a situation you wanted to find yourself in.

Suddenly, Jake came to a halt, his flashlight revealing a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down. "Looks like a shaft," you commented.

"Indeed," Jake replied.

"Let me just update the group."

With your phone safely secured in your pocket, you turned your full attention to Jake. "Anything else I should know before we head down? It felt like you deliberately left something out when talking to the others."

"It's kind of unsettling how you can pick up on that," Jake sighed. "According to my research, the ladders in this shaft go down for about 200 feet. In case any of the ladders are damaged or missing—"

"Hmm we're fucked, right?"

"I was going to say our plan will fail but I guess it's the same thing."

****

Upon midway in descending the ladder, your phone began to vibrate incessantly in your back pocket. The unexpected vibration caused you to falter for a moment, your grip on the ladder tightening instinctively to prevent any accidents.

Once your feet were firmly on the ground, you retrieved your phone and checked the screen. It was flooded with notifications, indicating that you and Jake had been exploring the mine for a longer period than you had realized.

"We have to be thankful that the ladder was relatively stable," Jake mentioned, his gaze fixed on the map in his hands once again. "However, they have been exposed to constant moisture for years and are quite rusty."

"I think we should seriously reconsider using them on the way back," you remarked, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of relying on rusty ladders above a 200-foot drop. "The last thing I want is plummeting straight into the abyss."

"Right, especially if there are four of us."

"Is there any other way out?" you inquired, your eyes scanning the intricate network of tunnels that surrounded you. Without a map on hand, getting lost in these winding passages seemed like a very real possibility.

"Yes, there is. However, they come with some extensive detours."

You sighed, a sense of fatigue settling in. "Oh, boy... this is going to be one hell of a night."

~~~~~

A/N: Hello! First of all, I want to apologize for making this fanfiction under WIP for months. I have read your comments and everything and I want to thank you for spurring the author in me once again. School has been a pain in my ass and it has been a hassle juggling life and boosting my GPA along with some personal issues. To make it short, it had emotionally and mentally burned me out to the point I can't even write anything. Not to mention I was bombarded with paper works so I really have to force myself to vomit words just to survive the semester so yeah, I think that sums it up. My apologies again because I have to cut this part out upon reaching 4.5k because I feel like the whole part will be far too long and I wouldn't be able to put a breather between scenes. The next part will be uploaded soon after this, don't worry.

Question tho: what are your thoughts on my writing style? Because I feel like I'm stretching out the storyline more than it probably needs, adding details that might not be entirely essential. I want to hear what's on your mind.

29 notes · View notes