#his tiny fucking horse is killing me

[wilwheaton]

the waiting game sucks

I was playing Assassin's Creed: Origins last night (61 hours in, level 31. Not sure how far I am into the story) and I tamed this hippo, because I thought it would be amusing to have a giant hippo waddling around with me. I named them Hungry Hungry the Hippo, because I am perfect.

I have this cool chain assassination skill, so I like to wait for Romans to ride by in a line, grab the one at the end and follow up with the one in the middle before any of them realize what's going on. More often than not, the one in the front keeps on going and doesn't notice his two buddies aren't with him.

(SIDEBAR: Unless you want to kill an entire village, don't poison the corpses. I'm real sorry about that, formerly-populated tiny village against the mountains.)

But last night, the guy in the front turned around and threw a spear at me ... which REALLY PISSED OFF Hungry Hungry the Hippo, who charged the guy, knocked him off his horse, and proceeded to murder the fuck out of him.

So I'm like, "Hungry Hungry the Hippo, you are such a good friend! Thanks for helping me fill the streets with the blood of my enemies. I'm going to set you free to celebrate!"

And that's when I discovered that Hungry Hungry the Hippo has two states: tamed and aggro. I was like, "Here you go," and she was like "THANK YOU NOW I WILL MURDER YOUR FACE TO DEATH!"

I want to tell you that I ran away and climbed up a tree or something, until she calmed down and went on her way. But we all know that wouldn't be true, and Bayek needed some hard leather to upgrade his armor, anyway.

So I thanked Hungry Hungry the Hippo for her service and sacrifice, looted the corpses, and went about my business.

Every villain is the hero of their own story.

[18catsreading]

Koda: I am better than horse. I will carry you.

Katja: wmWhat. Did. You. Fucking. Say?

Koda: I am Better than Horse.

Rekha: Katja squares up.

Aabria/Antiope: I immediately grab Katja like 'nope, nope!'

Katja: let me take him don't you hold me back!

Antiope: Bear back up, back up! You don't want me to let her go.

Koda: okay.

Becca/Penny: I hug the bear. Just don't say, we know it's true, don't say it again.

Katja: what?!

Koda: oh yeah, what, what, what?

Antiope: Girl you wanna get let go?

Katja: Am I gonna fight a bear?

Antiope: go fucking get him! Aabria/Antiope: I let go and push her forward. Kill this bear!

Izzy/Ostentatia: can I cast enhance ability and give her beat shit?

Antiope: smoke this bear, Katja!

Brennan: I'm gonna pull up bear --

Becca/Penny: no, not Koda, please, I'll give my life for Koda!

Sam: Koda, I believe in you. And I give Koda bardic inspiration.

Katja: what! Against me?!

*overlapping chatter*

Brennan: okay, so you have enhanced ability, I'm gonna need an athletics check with advantage from you.

Sephie/Sam: my first time bardic inspiration!

Brennan: what did you roll?

Rekha/Katja: I rolled an 18, which plus my athletics is a 27.

Aabria: let's go

Becca/Penny: come on Koda

Brennan: I'm gonna roll.

Sephie/Sam: remember that bardic inspiration!

Brennan: yes, bardic inspiration.

*overlapping chatter*

Rekha/Katja: Absolutely psychotic

Aabria/Antiope: I want Hunter's Sense on this bear. What is his weakness?

Rekha/Katja: fuck yes

Antiope: I'm whispering in your ear like, 'go for his nuts.'

Becca/Penny: I get an acrobatics check as I spin the bear on my feet?

Rekha/Katja: this is unreal you created, and then brought back this bear.

Penny: Koda is a circus trained bear and I have acrobatics.

Brennan: so I'm gonna roll. Here's, here's Koda's athletics check.

*math happens* Katja: 27, Koda: 24

Erika/Yelle: before this resolves --

Katja: and it will never resolve!

Erika/Yelle: everyone hears a voice in the back of their heads that says: 'Everybody knock it off and grow the fuck up.'

Rekha: gasps

Penny: yeah, Koda

Yelle: you too Koda

Sam: especially Koda

Brennan: Katja you've got --

Ostentatia: who just fucking cursed at me?

Brennan: so you all -- so Danielle just communicated telepathically. You gently release Koda from the arm bar that you have Koda in.

Rekha/Katja: yea it was an arm bar and I was about to grab him like *gestures with a clenched fist* like this is his shirt and put him up against the --

Izzy: shirt?

Rekha/Katja: yea, but this is fur, against the thing. And go like a 'why I oughta!'

Becca/Penny: no Koda wears a tiny T-shirt, that's right.

Rekha: *something I can't catch* really small.

Izzy: is it Paddington?

*overlapping chatter and laughing*

Brennan: a talking Kodiak Bear with an enormous rain jacket and hat. Less cute that size. Cool. So, so Katja you were clearly about to tie this bear in a knot.

Aabria/Antiope: kick this bear's ass.

Brennan: and Danielle grabs everyone's attention. Zelda looks at Yelle and goes [as Zelda]: cool. Yeah, we need to head to the Baronies. We should go.

Katja: yeah, yeah. Are you cool, Koda? Are you fucking cool?

Koda: if you are cool, I am cool. We have no problem. Maybe next time we go there's no sucker punches, and we sort of, you know?

Yelle: okay, you know what. This is what we call, in the industry, bear baiting. And you're not going to fall for it.

Izzy: what industry?

Aabria/Antiope: we're getting baited by a bear that's fucked.

Katja: I am not falling for this

Penny: the nature industry

Katja: I am strong, I am strong, and you are weak

*overlapping chatter*

Brennan: uh, amazing. So it kicks off a little bit again, and you guys head off from here. Katja and Koda, the tension is palpable.

Rekha/Katja: and we're sitting next to each other!

Penny: I hope on Koda's back

Izzy: they're gonna fuck!

Penny: I'm whispering to Koda what a good boy he is, and how he's better than a horse.

Katja: I'm whispering to cinnamon "you know there's nothing on earth that's better than a horse, you know that right?

Cinnamon: I didn't let that bear get to me. I didn't let that bear get to me.

Brennan: so you all move along

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - The Vet: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @Hangmanscoming @1-fuzzy-squirrels @nerdypinupcrystal

Prequel to upcoming September piece Broken - Travis Wheatley

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

Rip’s at the Foreman’s House when he hears the gunshots echo over the pasture in the darkness. He’s just uncorked that bottle of that red you like from the winery in town because it’s been over a year since you stole this old cowboy’s heart and he wants to do something special to mark the occasion.

“I’m on my way.” You had promised him only a few minutes earlier when you’d called him. “I just need to check in Artemis.”

Gina’s horse had injured it’s leg during a barrel racing exercise a week ago and you’d been treating her since. Her cottage is less than a mile down the lane from Rip’s residence so he knows it won’t take long for you to arrive.

The instant he hears the two gunshots, something twists in his chest because they’re close, too fucking close. Both his home and Gina’s are on the Dutton’s land so he knows no one would dare go hunting in these fields. He tucks his own gun into the waistband of his jeans before he snatches up the keys to the truck and hurtles out the door.

Gina’s driveway is unusually busy when he pulls up outside her residence. There’s a black SUV he doesn’t recognise parked alongside the stables and your pickup blocks his path, the engine still running, the driver’s door thrown open.

Already he can hear the sounds of scuffle coming from the stable, shadows flicker against the warm illumination as a man curses and wood creaks.

“Touch that fucking horse and I will fucking kill you.” He hears you spit as he swings into the stables, his own gun drawn.

The scene before him is far from the one he expected.

Teal Beck is sagged against the door of Artemis’s stall, cradling his right arm close to his chest as blood jets from his badly broken nose. Dislocated shoulder, Rip assumes as Artemis paces her stall, tossing her head and grinding her teeth.

You’re standing with a Glock clasped in both your hands, finger on the trigger, weapon trained on Beck. There isn’t a single waver in you, your feet are spread apart, shoulders aligned just like they taught you when you signed up for a career in the Army as a miliary veterinarian. You’d done three tours before you resigned your commission and returned to Montana to take over your daddy’s practice.

“He was coming in here to kill the horse.” You tell Rip with a tone that could freeze the rivers of hell.

Of course, you’d go this crazy over a fucking horse. You leave and breathe for the animals under your care, every charge takes a tiny piece of your heart and you’d protect them with your life.

“You need to check on Gina.” You tell him, inclining your head slightly as you keep your eyes Teal. “Where there’s one Beck brother…”

There’s usually another.

Malcolm Beck’s been making his displeasure about his ex-wife known ever since that rodeo journalist had published the article about her come back. They’d all thought she was down and out after being kicked to the curb by him but now she’s back on the circuit, winning for the Yellowstone. She’s been spotted in the company of the rodeo king himself, Travis Wheatley.

It must have pushed every single one of that SOB’s buttons to see she was succeeding without him.

“Go.” You say again, this time more urgently. “I can take care of Teal, but Gina needs help.”

Rip’s already in motion, rushing from the stable as you keep the gun fixed on younger Beck brother.

“You better fucking hope he hasn’t laid a hand on her.” You say to Teal, your finger tightening on the trigger. “Otherwise you won’t live to see another sunrise.”

Teal smiles at you through bloody teeth.

“If that girl ain’t dead yet, she’s gonna wish she was by the time my brother’s finished with her.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[simplepotatofarmer]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream remembers the Butcher Army

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare, Dream?”

Techno’s tone was light and teasing but Dream’s cheeks went hot. He hadn’t meant to stare. He kept his eyes on Techno because there was some irrational fear clinging to him that he would disappear into thin air and Dream would be left alone once more. Scoffing half-heartedly, he rolled his eyes and watched as an amused smile broke out across Techno’s face.

“Yeah, but—” There wasn’t an excuse that Dream could give. The truth was embarrassing, that he was so desperate not to be alone, he didn’t want to let Techno out of his sight in this tiny cell. His eyes travelled across Techno’s face. The amusement had softened though one bushy pink eyebrow was quirked as high as it could go. Above it, some of Techno’s hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, half covering the strange golden tinted scar. “How did you get that?”

Laughing, Techno pushed his hair back, fingers catching in the tangles. The scar went past his hairline and seemed to cover a good portion of his scalp.

“This? Oh, just when I was unfairly executed by havin’ an anvil dropped on my head.”

“Oh.” As soon as he said it, it made sense and Dream felt an odd twinge of guilt that he hadn’t realized that. “Right.”

Techno took a moment to attempt to fix his hair but without a brush it was next to impossible and he gave up.

“It could’ve been worse,” he said with a groan, stretching his arms out. His finger tips came within a few inches of Dream’s face and he had to resist the urge to smack his hand because that was the exact reaction that Techno wanted.

“Worse? You—You almost died.”

Now he smacked Techno’s hand. Techno grabbed his hand just like Dream knew he would because he had done it half a dozen times since he was locked in the cell. This time Dream didn’t jerk his hand away with a curse.

“But I didn’t.” Techno squeezed his hand. “Someone gave me a heads up.”

Dream remembered.

He had heard of the plan to kill Techno, of the group put together to hunt him down. The butcher army and Dream had always assumed Quackity came up with the name. Part of him believed it would go no where. The information and the map had been passed to Techno as a contingency plan because Dream couldn’t imagine the butcher army succeeding, not against Techno. He would have them bleeding on the ground and they would crawl back to lick their wounds. Dream had been sure of it.

When Punz gave him the heads up that Techno had been captured, it felt wrong. He hadn’t believed it. There had been a feeling of panic in his chest. They had planned for this but it still felt unreal. Punz had mentioned the horse as an afterthought and Dream had laughed because now he could believe it. He hadn’t accounted for Techno’s attachment to his animals, hadn’t accounted for the willingness of others to use that against him. Dream should’ve known better.

“Heh,” he said, throat a little tight. “That’s—That’s true.”

Looking over at Techno, Dream could see the anvil falling and hear the sickening crunch and thud before that flash of green-gold light amidst all the panic. He wondered how far the scar stretched across his scalp, if it wound its way elsewhere, to all the places bone had been crushed and skin torn. Dream gave an involuntary shudder and Techno squeezed his hand one last time before letting go, the first time he had been the one to do so.

“Don’t get me wrong, Dream, I’m grateful but I kinda wish the favor you asked for didn’t suck.”

Dream tried and failed to stop the smile and the laugh, the coldness of the memory fading.

“Fuck off, Techno.”

@sixteenth-day-event

[novashelby]

It Feels Like Home When You're Here~Tommy Shelby x Reader One-shot

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Mention of war, mention of sex, but overall sfw.

Word Count: 1,246

Summary: Tommy Shelby feels disconnected with everyone after the war. Everyone except you. This was a request using the prompt: "Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?" Just know the prompt is not mine, but I can no longer find the list. I will credit it once I find it.

Please enjoy! Please consider commenting and a reblog!

War did something to boys. Took good boys…good natured, impressionable boys and turned them into hardened, difficult to do men. Tommy wasn’t any different. No matter how he wanted to think or what he knew of himself, he was no different than the others who went to France and died. Everyone died in France in one way or another. Everyone died and everyone killed. And after scurrying through the dark, rat infested tunnels with no light other than a hand held torch, nowhere felt normal. Nowhere felt like home. People he once could connect with weared thin and fizzled off, and before he knew it, the only thing that soothed him was the brown liquor filled bottle. But they weared thin, too, and he’d have to go buy a new friend. 

After a busy Wednesday, Tommy headed to the pub. It was an unusual case. In fact, it’d be unusual if he didn’t go to the pub for a drink or two. Pushing through the creaky wooden door, he skimmed over the sea of people. Every time he’d walk anywhere, there’d be a chorus of greetings. A popular man he was. But lonely, God, fucking lonely, but he’d feel pathetic to admit it. In the farthest right corner of the Garrison, John and Arthur were sharing a rum.

“Thought I’d find ya’ two here,” Tommy said, taking a crack at a poor excuse of a sarcastic joke. He sat down and whistled for a glass. Of course, it came promptly. No one dared to make a Shelby wait for anything. 

John, already two sheets to the wind, looked over at his older brother. In a slew of slurred jumbles, he asked, “and what has ya’?” Meaning, in some sort of way; how are you? Tommy couldn’t answer before the direction of conversation changed to what it always was; women, money, horse racing. John was going on about some whore he came across the previous night. “The back end on her.” He elbowed Arthur in the side who joked that he had kids to go home to.

Sometimes Tommy would join in on the banter, enjoying the occasional lightheartedness, but usually he’d half-listen and half-observe the space around while his head just slowly drifted. That particular night, he watched the barman slide down pints and poured glasses of brown liquor. 

The door swung open, the tiny bell on the frame ringing. Tommy glanced over for a second and went back to his drink when it hit him. Only men and the occasional whore walked through those doors. But her long hair and petite features stuck out like a sore thumb. Unlike the men who dressed in browns, blues, and beiges, she fashioned something lighter. A pretty lilac under a white winter coat made of mink, or so she said. He looked back over again, eyes following her. He knew why she was there and it didn’t take long for their eyes to connect.

John stopped talking and Arthur, under his breath, mumbled, “my fookin’ God.” But she was neither of theirs, Tommy thought as she approached the table. The pub followed her as she walked. John and Arthur looked up at her, but Tommy silently slid from the table and extended his hand.

“I was looking for you,” she said, but he didn’t respond. He simply took her arm with one hand, and with the other, he downed his whiskey and took out a smoke from his pocket. Together, they walked out of the pub in silence, down the dusty Birmingham street. It was a little bit before either of them spoke. Just when they hit her small dingy flat, she said, “I was going to cook you dinner, but last time you hardly touched a thing-”

“I don’t see you for dinner,” he said, taking over the key that she fumbled with in her hands. She sighed, putting her palms in the air, moving off to the side. He just wanted to feel her bedsheets against his skin. He fiddled with the door and it came undone easily. “You need a better lock-”

“When will you admit you see me for more than sex?”

“I don’t admit things very often,” he said, and they paused together in the entryway of the flat, bodies pressed. He smiled, touching her rosy rouge tinted cheek, thumb making circles. He nodded for her to continue onward, and she untangled herself from his overbearing stance. 

Her apartment was always cold, but it was the only place where life didn’t suck. That and the pub. But even the pub became lonely and dark. He took his usual spot on the sofa and when she walked by, he reached up and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her down with him. “I don’t need another drink,” he said, nose tangled in her hair, sniffing the lavender scented shampoo in her thick curls. 

“Perhaps I wanted one,” she said, twisting herself to look at him. Hearing him whisper c’mere was like music to her ears. Instantly, she rotated, putting one leg on each side of him. She straddled him as his hands rested on her hips, keeping her steady. Intimately, she placed her hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles. She chuckled, “you need a shave.”

Tommy smiled, leaning in to peck at her lips. “I’ve only shaved this past Saturday.”

“It’s Wednesday-”

“Alright, alright,” he said. “Then I’ll just get up now and-”

She pressed harder against him, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him in close. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Her lips ghosted over his ear moving to his temple, leaving a lingering kiss while his hands tickled up her back under her blouse. When his fingers worked at her bra, she let out a soft sigh. “When will it ever be about something other than sex, Thomas?” she asked, pushing away. His hands dropped, finding a new home on her thighs. They stared at one another for a few moments before continuing, “hmm? Will you ever let me in deeper?”

Tommy looked off to the side, swallowing. “It’s just hard for me right now-”

“You always say that,” she accused, grabbing his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “You always say that. Thomas! When is it ever not hard? It’s always going to be hard, but don’t you understand…you’re here. Other men weren’t as lucky!”

Before he could process his thoughts, he replied, “no, they were luckier.”

She straightened her back, dropping her hands to her side. Scoffing, she said, “so my brother-”

“No, no, no,” he said, stopping her before she could speak anymore. He held her close again, working around her stiffness. He rubbed his face into the crook of her neck before resting his forehead on his shoulder. “We don’t have to have sex…it’s just the way I know how to express my emotions.” 

She eased a bit, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s hard, is all. learning how to navigate you-”

“Out of everywhere, this is the only place that feels right,” he said, looking up at her. “Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?” There was no answer for that. She didn’t know what to say because she herself couldn’t explain it. They agreed it’d never happen. That they’d stay neutral and it’d just be as it was and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, they bonded to one another. 

And neither minded.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

���Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

[petals2fish]

“I need you to do me a favor.” Lily Evans never knew how quickly the sound of her voice made his heart race with anticipation.

James Potter glanced up from his homework, hastily scribbled during his break on a bench in the courtyard. The autumn leaves cascaded around, creating a picturesque scene behind his girlfriend, whose hair glistened like the fiery foliage in the sunlight. With a quick motion, James tucked his quill behind his ear, took her hand, and guided her to stand between his legs.

“Of course, what do you need?" He extended his hand to trace her freckles. She was so accustomed to his closeness that she didn't even flinch as his fingertips brushed against her face, rekindling a familiar fire in his belly.

She chewed on her bottom lip adorably, like she was contemplating something, before she stated firmly, “I need you to get detention.”

James raised a brow at her with disbelief and let out half a laugh. “Are you asking me to break the rules?”

A surge of excitement tingled through him. Lily usually upheld maturity and morals, often emphasizing the need for school leaders to maintain a higher standard of behavior. Sirius dubbed it a constant high horse, whereas Lily favored the term confident leadership. James leaned more into Sirius’ path, but he knew as head boy he really ought to not be a hypocrite.

Sometimes though, detention was inevitable.

Lily settled onto his right knee, her arm draping his shoulder casually as she implored, “I am begging you actually, because I heard Mulciber is the prefect covering detention and I don’t want to be stuck in a room for an hour with him…he creeps me out.”

“Why are you stuck with Mulciber?” James asked as his finger twirled a bit of her hair, “it’s Friday, you have off from head duties.”

Lily’s green eyes rolled back to emphasis her annoyance, “no, I don’t, I have detention.”

James nearly choked on his own spit from surprise, “wait, you have detention? How?”

“I told Professor Kettleburn to fuck off,” she said it so nonchalantly, he actually let out a little laugh as she continued, “I told him to fuck off because he was telling everyone werewolves are low life bums who deserve to rot in Azkaban.”

That struck a nerve. James knew why it had annoyed Lily too. Their best friend Remus was a werewolf. Kettleburn knew that too, all the teachers did. Only a few of the students were aware why Remus looked so sickly and stayed aloof unless he was with his friends. For Kettleburn to outright say those things in class knowing there was a werewolf at Hogwarts—James’ blood boiled at the thought of the sick intentions behind the lecture.

James gently pushed Lily off and stood up, “Well, I’ll be right back.”

Lily got a dejected look as she took his spot on the bench, “wait, where are you going?”

James pulled his sack up off the ground, stuffing his quill and notebook inside. “I’m going to put tiny dung bombs all over Professor Kettleburn’s office.”

Lily tilted her head, “but he’s probably in his office.”

“That’s the point.”

“He might murder you,” Lily said, “and I prefer my boyfriend alive, for snogging.”

He chuckled at her reasoning, cheeks warm as he thought of their last snog only that morning which had made them both miss potions. “I’m breaking a rule, like you asked me too do.”

“I mean Kettleburn would deserve it,” Lily murmured as she examined chipped paint on one of her fingernails, “he’s a miserable old ass.”

James leaned down to kiss her cheek swiftly as he heaved his bag onto his left shoulder, “I’m killing two birds with one stone love, see you at five for detention!”

He leaned back just in time to watch the diamonds in her green eyes light up. She ruffled his hair in an affectionate manner before he stood up straight.

“It’s a date,” she mused, “we can snog the whole time and piss Mulciber off.”

James cackled as he sauntered off, grateful he had three dung bombs left in his school bag’s back pocket from when he’d set some off in Ravenclaw’s locker room at quidditch. They would work nicely. Aware of the inquisitive eyes on him, he pulled one of the bombs out, ignoring the titters of the portraits watching him. Any students he passed saw the look in his eyes and kept running.

The bell for class would ring in five minutes, so he had to be quick and efficient. He took a shortcut through the bougainvillea portrait, arriving at Professor Kettleburn’s office in record time. Kettleburn was at his desk, ready and available to be rained on by dung bombs.

James knew he wouldn’t get his homework done at all now, but he was doing his girlfriend a favor, and who was he to say no to a little mischief?

[blxvdlusttxx]

Preacher's daughter - Eyeless Jack x Reader

Content warning: Mentions of murder, gore, SMUT, cult activities, sacrifice, dub-con? Jack takes readers virginity, oral (reader receiving) P in V, religion (Christianity) religious trauma? reader questions her religion and belief in God. Degradation (Jack mocks readers religion), corruption kink. mentions of vomiting, praise, pet names (Angel, little thing), angst.

Fem!reader

Request: Yes / No

First smut fic on here! I know i said I'll NEVER write rape-ish fics but I'm trying my hand at not quite non-con but it's a little questionable at the begining, but reader eventually consents so It's not quite out of my confort zone. I've been listening to Ethel Cain's songs Inbred and Strangers and it really inspired this fic.

Again, as mentioned before my stories are based off of Jordan Persegati's videos of the characters so if anything seems off about the story let me know.

Enough yapping, onto the story!

The air felt cold and damp, the smell of blood plagued the wind coming into the cave entrance, making y/n's stomach turn.

She looked up at what her friends had created, the monster they had summoned. She begged them not to do it, pleaded on her knees, hands folded as if she was praying to the God above.

A loud growl could be heard from Jack as he killed the last of her friends that forced him through the sacrifice. A tear rolled down her bloodstained cheek, becoming tainted with the liquid as it trailed down her neck.

Hey eyes widen as she notices that he had also noticed her, slowly approaching her, like a Lion creeps upon his pray. She had never felt so small in her life, he looked so large from her view on the floor. She closed her eyes tight, pushing herself impossibly closer to the wall as she clutched the cross that adorned her neck.

"Darling, God isn't going to help you now." Jack chuckles at the sight of her, his voice horse and scratchy. she looked pathetic, like a tiny child crying for her mother.

"P-please Jack... I didn't want this..." she sobbed, shifting to sit on her knees, head down in shame and fear. She couldn't look at him, she was too ashamed that she couldn't do more to help him out of the disgusting predicament he is now in.

Her plea caused him to chuckle, he crouched down in front of her, looking over her features carefully. She reminded him of a baby deer, her big doe eyes now saddened and filled with tears. Her hair was disheveled and stuck to her face. her white night gown dressed her body loosely, but flattering, the neckline left her collarbones bare, and the cross sat in between them, dangling from her neck. It almost made her look pure, if it weren't for the dirt and blood that stained the white fabric, making it almost see-through.

He smirked at her trembling frame, and stood up before reaching down and slinking his index finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes almost spoke volumes of his preys purity. But Jack knew better, he knew there was room for corruption.

"I'm sorry... I tried to help but they wouldn't listen... p-please I'm so sorry." She sobbed again, her pleas doing nothing more but causing his bloody jeans to tighten at the zipper.

He chuckled again, cupping her cheek with the hand that was holding up her chin, gently stroking her wet cheek with his thumb.

"What's wrong angel? it wasn't your fault" he cooes, looking down at her hungrily. "Your pure heart and "holy" beliefs can only do so much in this sinful world. Is that What you think of me now? A sinner?" He growls. Her eyes widen as she shakes her head frantically.

"N-No! of course not..." y/n whimpers, reaching up and holding onto the arm that touched her.

He enjoyed that look, the look of her on her knees in front of him, weak and bent to his will. He'd almost feel like her God himself, if it weren't for the demon that possessed his soul, hungrily desperate to bend her over and fuck the purity right out of her tight cunt.

He chuckles yet again, and leans down to meet her eyes. He licks his lips starvingly, he wanted to take her. He could, he knows that, but he knew it would be much more satisfying if she wanted it. He wanted to break her, wanted her to beg for him, beg for him to take her all for himself. It was selfish, yes, to steal a girls purity that could only be given once. That pure desire that she'd been saving for so long.

He knew that she was different though. Her eyes could fool anyone, but not him. She took to the "Preacher's daughter" role well, but he knew that she longed for someone to touch her. To make her feel as good as her holy God does.

"You're such a pretty little thing... Christ, look what you do to me" Jack growls lowly, taking ahold of her hand and pressing it firmly against his restrained cock. She whimpers in response, looking down at the evident erection in his pants.

"I-...I don't mean to..." she whispers shamefully, attempting to pull her hand away, He clicks his now elongated tongue against his sharpened teeth and shakes his head.

"I'm afraid God won't help you here, little thing." He snarks, he reaches under her arms and lifts her up, his hands glide down her body to wrap her legs around his waist. He pins her to the wall of the murky cave, leaning in to lick up the side of her neck, nibbling on her ear. A soft moan escapes her lips, her cheeks burning red as another tear rolls down.

"Oh God..." She whines, trying to push away from him.

"How unholy you are, little one" He groans into her ear. "You're not as pure as you let on, are you angel?" he mocks, leaning back to look her in the eyes.

"I-I am....please don't do this." she cries, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.

"No... I don't think you are baby... I know you want this, we both know it." he smirks, grinding his cock into her clothed cunt. "Your God isn't here sweet girl, there's no need to hide from me." He slides a a hand from her thighs and up her nightgown, slipping under her white panties, he smirks as he rubs circles around her already wet clit.

She whimpers, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He pulls her away from the wall and lays her on the floor, careful not to harm his new toy.

Was this really something that God allowed in this world? The maker of all things, the Almighty, the Healer? How could he allow such sinful things to harm those who don't deserve it? Jack may not be religious, she knew he wasn't. But to allow this to happen to him? Why? It felt like her chest was collapsing, everything she once believed in crashing down around her, mocking her naive trust and devotion.

Her thoughts swallowed her whole, only snapping out of it when she felt Jack's warm tongue against her pussy, licking a stripe up from her hole and swirling around her clit. She gasps, gripping his hair tightly to ground herself. He laughs menacingly, crawling up her body to look her in the eyes.

"there you are angel, where'd your pretty little mind wonder off to, hm?" he whispers, a cunning grin plastered on his lips.

"W-why are you doing this?" she whines, wanting to push him away, but also not wanting to. She knew this was a sin, this dirty feeling would stain her image in the Lord's eyes forever. Maybe Jack was right, maybe God really isn't there after all.

"I've decided that you're mine, my little angel." he presses a kiss to her temple. "You don't belong to your pathetic God anymore, you're all mine." he growls, trailing back down her body.

Y/n shuts her eyes tight, maybe being his wouldn't be so bad. He hadn't killed her yet, after all.

A soft moan leaves her lips as he ravished her, sucking and licking her pussy like it's the last meal he'll ever have. Her eyes snap open as she feels him slip a finger inside her, it was large, the unfamiliar sting of her insides being stretched open caused tears to prick at her eyes once again. It was painful, but the pleasure soon took over her body as he pumped in and out.

"J-Jack..." she moans, pulling at his hair. The feeling of pleasure was something she had never experienced before. She'd heard stories from her friend's, sure, and she was always curious to know what it felt like, but she knew that it was a sin to partake in any sexual activities before marriage. Her virginity was important to her, It was something that she was excited to give to her future husband. To remain pure and untainted by men. Now, she questioned what that even meant.

She felt disgusting for liking the way he's making her feel. Every throb and wave of pleasure caused her to cringe. As the blissful feeling grew more intense, she cared less. She wanted him to touch her, she wanted him to touch her till she vomited from the violating feeling, it was addicting. She never thought it would be this intoxicating.

She felt strange, the feeling of bliss was becoming unbearable, she didn't understand what was happening. Was she dying, Is this god punishing her for her sin?

"J-Jack I- What's happening?" she pants, trying desperately to squirm away and catch her breath.

"It's alright angel, let it come." Jack cooes, holding her in place by her hips and continuing his attack on her clit. He inserts another finger and laps at her clit, chuckling at her desperate moans and pleas

Her first orgasm hit her light a fright train, she cried out, her body convulsing and grinding into his face. Her back arched, head leaned back as she cried out into the night.

He slowed down after allowing her to ride out her high. He kissed up her body before meeting her face, keeping eye contact as her slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking up all the juices that leaked out of her.

"Shhh, it's alright angel, you're such a good girl" Jack cooes. He reaches down and unbuckles his belt, undoing the button and sliding down the zipper of his jeans. Her eyes lock in his hands, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pulls them down, allowing his large cock to spring up, slapping against his shirt. Her lip begins to quiver, fear begins to take over at the large size of him.

Jack notices as he positions himself between her legs, his leaky tip prodding at her entrance.

"It's alright angel, I'll be gentle, don't worry." he shushes her, reaching up to grip her hips as he presses in. It was beyond painful, her eyes screwed shut as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She wanted to be his. She didn't care about anything else, only him. He was all that mattered to her now.

Tears ran down her temples as he stretched her out, his cock beginning to be coated in the blood of her now torn hymen. When he finally bottomed out, he remained there for a moment, pressing kisses to her tears as he waited for her to adjust to his size.

He eventually started moving, thrusting his cock into her over and over again. She moaned, gripping at his body as he took her all. The pain subsided and she was greeted with that feeling, the feeling of pure bliss that only he could make her feel.

He growled lowly, sucking on her neck until the skin was raw and purple as he thrusted into her. She was tight, it felt like she was milking him for all he had.

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good" he groans, increasing his pace.

the intense feeling was returning with every thrust of his cock. He felt so experienced, every way he moved, kissed, touched, it felt like he knew her body like a prayer. She cried out, desperate to feel that feeling again.

"Jack please" she begged, pulling on his hair.

"I know angel, I'll make you cum, just relax. I'm almost there too baby" he groans into her ear, reaching down to rub at her clit.

It finally hit her again, and she cried out, babbling a mix of his name and "oh god yes." he grunted, his own release hitting him. he filled up her tight cunt, a mix of cum and blood drooled out of her hole.

"You're mine, angel. all mine" he growled, and reached up, he yanks the cross off her neck and throws it God knows where on the dirty ground.

[4pfsukuna]

Enemies to f⭐️cking lover Toji

Ok so ive been thinking about releasing a 3-5 part enemies to lovers(or something along those lines) for toji although i know the most common works on here is one shot smut. Trust smut will be involved… its toji

You used to be an american spy but japan pays nearly tripple. The jobs were quick easy taking 2 days at max. You had climbed the interest ladder for your ability to get things done in a quick and neat fashion with minimal mess and uproar increasing your salary from 4 figures to six in only a couple of months. Unfortunately theres another assasin whos getting in your way and hes the exact opposite of everything you stand for. 

Not only does he not wear a mask to cover his identity, he lets his targets know exactly who he his just so they can have his name as their last thought before death.

Toji fushiguro.

The biggest jackass youve ever met.

This wasnt your typical one sided beef where youd get mad at him and hed flirt no he had beef with the number one assassin who was stealing his target which means his money. It truly grinded his gears and yours when they made you split a salary.

“Might as well go home princess” you hear his raspy voice though princess was said in a derogatory way hes made it clear several times he hated the way you did things. Why be so… clean. Death is death.

“Fuck off pretty boy go back and crawl into whatever shitty little backroom of a laundry mat and return to horse betting” you seethe having done your research on him. Its not like he needed the money for anything important unlike you who wanted it for taking care of responsibilities back home.

This mission had been one of your biggest yet and you did not need to blow your hiding spot nor cover by arguing with his big ass over nothing.

You're grabbed from the crouching position your in and slammed against the brick wall not hard enough to hurt but it does press into your all black outfit.

“You can do whatever research you want on me but you dont fucking know me… you dont know shit.” he snarls lip on his scar stretching further yet you shove him off. “And im not a pretty boy”

“Please youre not the threat you think you are” you scoff attempting to bruise his ego and the way he steps forward lets you know you did but you never let your guard down to your surroundings and youre quick to pull out your gun aiming in his direction.

He chuckles crossing his arms over his broad chest and you may be uninterested but youre not blind to how his compression tee squeezes him in a way thats… satisfactory to the eye.

“Going to shoot me princess? I thought you were too good to get your hands dirty. Squeemish at blood even” he pokes until you release six shots shooting the men slowly approaching that he failed to notice.

“You fucking shot me!” He growls touching the tiny drip of blood from where the bullet grazed the tip of his ear just enough to break skin not cause any definite damage. 

Taking a bow you smirk before making eye contact with him the only gap in your mask being the slot for your eyes.

“Oh sorry about that pretty boy, ill do you a solid and let you tell shiu you got this one all on your own.” you tease knowing his pride wouldn't let him take the credit for something he wouldn’t do. 

“No i don’t want your pity kill” he seethes looking as if he’s ready to throw a tantrum yet you can only smile knowing you won this battle.

“Great more money for me” you grin running past him the location no longer serving you any purpose. It was time to cash in and Shiu didnt stay up past 2am.

Toji grabs your arm stopping you from escaping though before he could speak the faint sound of sirens in the distance growing closer.

“What? You goin’ to hold me here until the cops get here with these other dead bodies how do you think that’s going to look? A big, strong and muscular giant holding a petite young woman like myself” you victimize yourself and you watch the frustration grow in his eyes knowing he has to let you go.

“Its not fucking over” he hisses releasing you with a slight push making your smile grow even wider.

“Great more chances for me to teach a pup like you what not to do” you tease tearing off a piece of his shirt and pressing it to his ear. “Wouldn’t want your blood at a crime scene would we fushiguru”

And youre dissapearing into the darkness of night and he watches your silhouette slip down an alley until he no longer can. 

You may have thought you had the last laugh but he was best friends with Shiu. So when you near you third week of no assignment you figure its time to reach out to the former and see what the issue is. Learning that Toji somehow convinced him you wanted a break you decided it was time to cut your ties temporarily with the man and find a new “project manager”

The next assignment is the most you’ve ever been offered so high in the six digits it’s close to seven and for a simple retreival mission.

So when youre standing surrounded

“Toj

Waking up with a throbbing headache youre confused when you meet the eyes of a spikey haired 5 year old who is playing with a toy truck a black puppy not to far behind. He must feel you stairing since he turns to face you and gives you a toothy grin.

“My dad must like you, he doesnt let us wear hats in the house but let you keep your mask on” he stutters slightly and you reach up feeling the mask

[moodymisty]

A kinda funny anecdote: I asked my husband who he thinks tumblr girlies would like to fuck and he sighed and said Sanguinius or Magnus.

But he wished people would thirst over Jaghatai Khan more, since he's actually a good man, playing up a mysterious façade but actually being a loyal and intelligent man, a family man even, as he is from a culture that values family. Only thing faster than his sword is his wit.

So, if you please, I would love to see the Great Khan whisk away the reader, on his bike or horse, just something a bit romantic if you feel like it <3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: YES! JAGHATAI TIME! I'm so glad someone requested him! He's really an awesome Primarch and one of my favorites, I would totally paint some if that didn't mean I had to paint white. It's sad how often people forget to mention White Scars when mentioning kinder space marines, they're awesome. Hope you enjoy.

Summary: Khan realizes he's in love not when he sees your beauty or your skills, but when he sees you in the mud with the horses.

Relationships: Jaghatai Khan/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None, Though I had a bit of trouble forming this one in a way I was happy with, so apologies if it reads a bit weird? It's also my first time writing Jaghatai

Word Count: 1143

While Jaghatai would be wrong to say this would be the oddest sight he's seen in his already long existence, perhaps it's up there.

"There you are."

His voice travels easily over the sound of the wind raking the tall grass, blowing fabric and hair along with it.

Sitting cross legged in the grass of a massive rolling field is where he found you, playing with the snout of a horse that has lazily laid on his legs to be at a similar height to you. He blows air through his lips, making an odd whinny at you when you turn and stop giving the stallion your full attention. You catch Jaghatai's eyes for a moment before looking away, a bit contrite.

"Apologies," You say, and he can hear the title Lord Primarch on your lips. You stifle it now, as he finds it far less palatable than his others.

"Do you have need of me?" You move to get up, but the Primarch gives a response before you're able. Jaghatai's mouth quirks up ever so slightly to one side, watching the horse attempt to get purchase on your clothing with his lips while you aren't looking at him.

"No. I was only curious where you had managed to lose yourself this time. My captain was beginning to think we were down one remembrancer."

You don't directly answer him, but the way you glance over at him with a guilty smile is enough.

Your hand brushes along the stallion's cheek, the thick fur of his growing winter coat raking through your fingers. The nights are getting colder, and the baseline humans that serve the massive, overheated Astartes find themself bundling pelts and fabrics tighter, skin burned from cold wind.

Jaghatai can hear you now whispering to the horse under your breath, even as the cold air whips across the barren, grass covered field. He can see the plume of smoke from another camp far in the distance.

They aren't hostile, but he never allows himself the sheer foolishness of assuming they will remain that way. Especially since they're carrying with them valuable cargo this time; Remembrancers and Navigators, and other such. Humans that would be an easy and worthwhile target, if they were ever so foolish enough to do so with a Primarch so close.

He gestures to the horse who's snout you gently rub, feeling the soft, tiny hairs on the stallion's upper lip. What a rare moment of relaxation you've gotten with no overseers looming over you as they would on Terra. How interesting that it seems the Astartes of the White Scars are less rigid than your old Imperium higher ups.

"I am surprised he's letting you do this. The last man that got close, he killed."

You look up at him as if he's telling a sort of terrible joke- then you realize that he is dead serious, as much as that soft, ever so slight upturn of the corners of his mouth might say otherwise. The Horses of Chogoris have always been so untenably wild, perhaps you shouldn't be surprised.

"I'm no stranger to that sort of thing, nowadays." He finds it amusing that you don't seem to state it negatively. "Going from Terra to Chogoris has been quite the adjustment."

The horse's tail whips sharply once, before settling again. You continue playing with him, occasionally looking to the Khan as he stays in silence. It's peaceful, far more peaceful than he's had in a long while, and the moment allows Jaghatai to finally piece together what has been gnawing at him since you'd entered his life. To think that was so long ago now, at least in the timeline of a mortal.

His eyes watch over you, your gentleness as you treat the stallion in the same, abit foolhardly way of kindness he's seen from you before. For someone who has seen more than their fair share of things that would make other mortals crumble, you seem to take it all in stride.

Perhaps its why you've managed to fit in so well. His men much prefer your attitude to the few other pompous, stiff Imperium operatives they've had the misfortune of being in the presence of. It may not be often, but more than once has he caught one of his captains rolling their eyes.

But now he finally understands what that feeling was that had dug it's nails into him; The one that had been heavy in his chest and on his mind. The one that had his mind drift to you in moments of slowness.

He is in love with you. Or perhaps more accurately, he's striding down the path closer to it. Each step he takes, each time he speaks with you, he makes his way closer and closer.

He enjoys the way you look at him, speak to him without so much formality, the way you treat the galaxy like it's full of wonders instead of horrors. You know in reality it is, but you once joked it's better to simply keep moving than to sit in the corner and weep. Perhaps that was the moment that this all started.

A part of him knows that something like this is only going to bring problems. To entangle this with a labyrinthine crusade of Astartes, of other Primarchs.

But in the end, he doesn't care.

The Primarchs were doomed to this feeling of being separated from humanity- their own internal humanity- by a pane of glass; So close and able to watch, but not truly feel. Even with how much they mimic, the Primarchs all feel a distinct emptiness within them from how cast away they are from those who they share species with.

To have a chance to maybe feel love, to actually feel truly human for the first time in his life, he isn't going to pass it by. Perhaps it's selfish, but he has little care. He is going to live his life the way he wishes any he will deal with the difficulties as they come.

Jaghatai Khan can easily vault the fence with zero effort, given his height. In doing so, he steps close to you, and the massive horse raises his head and begins to rise to his hooves, no longer allowed to slack off. He roughly gestures with his hand for you to rise.

"Up. I'll show you how to ride him."

You get up on your feet, and look up at him. He looks down at watches the light of the brightest moon of the month reflect on your skin. There's the faint smell of smoke in the air from the fires, and that stinging scent of cold air. You easily climb up onto the horse's bare back, Jaghatai even then still taller.

"Perhaps if you can tame him just enough, he can be yours."

[icarusredwings]

It's quiet uptown.

(Wrote this at like 2 in the morning. Had to spell check the hell out of it to even understand what my incoherent ass was trying to say. Give a hand to my 2 am. self because this is beautiful.)

Thinking about Logan doing small side jobs to make extra money for the house like mowing lawns and helping old ladies move their antique furniture to or from the attic, etc.

You heard me right. The Wolverine has started mowing grandma's yards for extra dough. Kinda weird right? Well. Wade didn't think so. Infact Wade joined along for the extra money, yeahhh… extra money.. That's right.

Definitely not to see Logan all hot, toned and sweaty, wiping his brow and grumbling when the mower wouldn't start, cursing when fixing it and then almost content while pushing it, simply making lines as he watched.

That loud agonizing roar of the mower having nothing on the grunts that Logan was making in his head. Day dreaming of what those strong shoulders could do to him. It was hard work really.

The restraint alone took him quite a bit of mental gymnastics as he “Helped” by trimming the bushes only to end up somehow slicing it clean off. Lets just say Miss Jackson was pissed that her rose bush was just destroyed but it was worth it.

After gathering up enough for whatever he seemed to be saving for, Logan says they're going out of town for a day or two. Blind al says not to be long or else she might be dead before they get back.

“We won't Miss Anderson.”

“Who the fuck is Miss Anderson?”

“...She is..?”

“You have a last name?”

“She didn't tell you?”

“Why didn't you tell me?!”

“Because you're annoying”

“But you told him!?”

“Logan is a gentleman. I don't know how he hasn't tried to kill you by now.”

“I have.”

“Try harder.”

“Hey!! I'm right here!”

“I know”

(For those who didn't know, Blind Al's real name is Althea Winifred Anderson. And she's a savage and her main job is to humble him.)

Also thinking about Wade reading X-men comics in his suit kicking his feet on his bed. The suit makes him feel safe. Outside of it felt scary. People make fun of his skin. He didn't like when people made fun of him. No one really did.

If Logan defends him, Wade would get down on his knee right then and there. Right in the middle of new york city like the Proposal style. Heels and all.

Meanwhile, for Logan it's the opposite. Being inside his suit felt scary. Too much pressure. Too loud. Outside? In the country? With horses and fences to be fixed? Wind and trees and fields for miles? That? That felt like home. He's content in the country and because of that he takes them upstate for the weekend.

Showing him the old mansion (which was a massive mistake but Wade wouldn't stop begging, turns out that was a bad idea because the people from this timeline started sobbing and accused him of being an imposter- which he sort of was- in a sense)

Took him to stay at a little crappy inn upstate with trees and grass, fields, and just sat on the porch for hours. Staring at the clear sky, deep in thought. Wades never saw him this relaxed before, this… at home in a place before. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, really?”

“No. I'm serious.. For once in my life I'm thinking about nothing.”

“And?”

“It's great..”

“Oh..can I?”

“It's a free country, bub.”

Then they sit on the porch together, just sitting for a while until Wade gets bored and starts pointing out clouds and asks if they can pet the horses. “Sure if you want kicked in the skull.”

On the last day of their trip, he takes him to Niagara Falls for their last stop on their tiny little get away.

“There she is. Niagara River.”

He wanted to say ‘Wolvie she's beautiful! That's gonna be me tonight after my left hand is done with me.’ Or some nonsense like that. But.. that didn't feel right. Instead, he only smiled, looking at him while the glitters from the rushing falls reflected in his eyes.

“Oh, Logan.. it's beautiful.”

At that moment something in Logan's stomach felt… funny.. oh god not this again. Really? Now? His chest was warm and he could feel his ears following. “Uhm… Yeah. This is. Isn't it?”

And for a while.. The two just stand here in silence. Watching Millions of pounds of water gush over the side of a cliff. Just themselves.

In a way… it was poetic really. Like the wave of relief that both of them felt when standing so close to each other. Just them. Just Logan James Howlett and Wade Winston Wilson. No costumes, no super hero shit, just them.

(And a shitty novelty hat that said “I 🍁 Niagara Falls” except the heart was replaced with a canadian maple leaf.)

But that's besides the point. It felt right to be just them. Two guys. Content in each other's company. Well.. and their ugly dog staring at the two of them as if she knew something that they didn't..

This has to be the gayest shit i've ever written and i've written this- (NSFW warning)

“Turn around.”

“Pft what are you gonna do, peanut? Suction Cup a plunger to my hea-” he gasps, both in surprise, delighted by the bit of pain, seeing as without warning, he was mounted and there now were, quite literally, claws in his hips.

“Oooh fun! But you don’t have to tell me to hold still tw- Aah good fucking gravy, queen marys head on a stick!!” He more of moaned rather than whined, a large chunk of his neck taken between his teeth, and hard. If he bit any harder he'd start bleeding. Whatever science was behind this must have worked because he went still and stiff yet limp and relaxed all at the same time- well- not all of him was limp. No, some of him was the exact opposite. Hm... perhaps it didn't get the memo?

(AYO 2 am me is a freak Ig)

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

[Liu Bang and the convicts find out about the Dazexiang Rebellion.] "I can't fucking believe it!" Liu Bang snarled, tossing back his cup of wine in one gulp, and then tossing the cup onto the ground for good measure. "Those bastards! Those cheating, no-good, mother-raping bastards! I'll bugger their sisters. I'll bugger their aunts. I'll bugger their ancestors to the 18th generation…" 

"What's wrong sir?" Jiang Ping asked timidly, "isn't it good that they're rebelling against the Qin, just like us?" 

"That's exactly the fucking problem!” Liu Bang snapped. “They're copying us!" 

Jiang Ping frowned. He may not have been a man of profound insight, but he did have a solid grasp of linear time, "but… didn't they do it first?" 

"Do it first? Ha!" Liu Bang scoffed, "the first to kiss my ass, more like it! They only declared their intentions before us, but if you really get down to it, we were the first ones to rebel. Think about it, I was the one who smashed my seal of office and set you lot free a full year before it even crossed their tiny minds that such a thing was possible, that a bunch of commoners could ever go against the great Qin dynasty! So what if we didn't declare ourselves rebels in name? We sure as fuck declared it with our actions! What, you think the Qin is gonna kill us less because we didn't mail them a fucking memo before we willfully disobeyed their orders and spat in their faces?" 

"Fuck no!" came a shout from the group of outlaws.

"It's easy for those braggarts at Dazexiang to boast!" roared Liu Bang, he had left his seat and was standing upright, hammering at the make-shift trestle table for emphasis. He was a natural showman and had an intuitive understanding of his audience. This group of outlaws were eating his show of machismo right up. "And what's more, the zexiang garrison had one hundred trained soldiers with horses, swords and supplies! Now, you tell me what we have to start off with? We didn't have shit!" 

"That's right!" 

"Didn't have shit!"

"And we still had the guts to stand up for ourselves! We disobeyed the Qin with nothing except the shirts on our backs and a donkey cart! Lemme tell you, it's real fucking easy for a tiger to be brave when he's big and strong, with a mouth full of teeth and ten sharp claws. I think it's a hundred times braver if a hare chooses to fight! He has nothing except for his wits and muscle. He might not do as much damage compared to a tiger, but he is putting more on the line!"

"Yeah, you're right, Sir!" Jiang Ping cried, "we were the first ones!" 

"First rebels! First rebels!" A loud clamoring was spreading throughout the gathered men. "Those Zexiang bastards stole our fucking idea!"

Liu Bang's motley crew were quickly coming around to his point of view, though it must be said they were more persuaded by their leader's strident tone and confident bearing than the merit of his argument. Any shopkeeper could tell you it was easy to sell bad wine to customers who were already thirsty. People naturally found speeches more persuasive when it contained information they wanted to hear. The men may have been the dregs of society, but even the most degraded of men still retained a crumb of human dignity, and it was infinitely more heroic to be a revolutionary than a common outlaw. 

notes:

This is one of the 200word a day pieces I slammed out. I don't want to declare it canon rn because it's super rough, but its pretty funny and i want to share it.

i've written lots of pieces on liu bang's easy-going side and all the assistance he gets from his ride-or-die friends. it's time to showcase his ambition and leadership, specifically the way he's able to seize control of his own narrative.

[takemywearybones]

Burn together

the night before daenerys’ wedding to Khal Drogo. cw incest, dead dove, noncon, alluded underage, somno, emotional blackmail

The quiet winds of the night swept through the thinly veiled curtains, and Viserys let out a shaky breath. His little sister, his Dany, to be sold off like a whore to a horse lord. The thought sent shivers down his spine. What would he do with her tiny, frail body? He’d split her in half, surely. She’s just a little girl. Viserys almost let his eyes well up with tears, almost.

This isn’t right, we are Targaryen. We are meant for one another. But when I get my crown in return, everything will be better, I'll make sure of it. I’ll be King and Dany will be my Queen. Just have to wait.

But he couldn’t wait. Viserys stood up finally, his mind set on only one thing. Make her yours. Make her yours before Khal Drogo can. He won’t even notice- no one will. Her body is owed to me. Her innocence, her purity, is mine to take. It is I who starved countless nights so that she went to bed full. It is I who bathed her, who carried her, who kept her safe all these years. Don’t I deserve this one thing in return?

He creaked open her bedroom door, quietly shuffling inside. He let out a breathy sigh, locking the door before approaching her sleeping form on the bed, in the thin nightgown he had gifted to her, no less. It left little to the imagination. His little sister was a beauty, already filling out in all the right places. A finger grazes over her collarbone gently, before travelling downward till his hand palmed her breast.

She let out a quiet hum, and he froze. Nothing more followed though, and so the mattress dipped beside her when he sat down, slowly crawling over her as if she were prey. He slid a hand downward, watching her face the entire time for any signs of life, before dipping his fingers underneath her nightgown, rubbing between her folds slowly with a shaky hum.

His cock tightened painfully in his breeches, aching to pin her down and show her who she really belongs to. Who she’s always belonged to.

“Viserys?” A sleepy hum arose. His hand didn’t falter, though, rubbing her clit up and down gently as she whined quietly. “You owe me a debt, sister. I’ve risked my life to keep you safe, to keep you fed and warm, to provide a roof over your head. I deserve your maidenhead more than some horse-fucker does, hm?” He whispers, his finger sliding into her tight hole with a sharp inhale. She whimpers in response, her tiny hands grabbing at his forearms, trying to pry him off.

“Shh, I know… just relax, it’ll feel better.” He murmurs in her ear, before pumping his finger in and out of her, rapidly increasing his pace before adding a second. Tears start to fall from Daenerys’ eyes, quietly begging and pleading. “Please, Viserys. Please don’t.”

He only shushes her, quickly growing tired of her begging. “I’m trying to make this easier for you. You should thank me, little sister. I could’ve let you die, you know? I could have thrown you out on the street and let some vermin rape and kill you. Could’ve had all that food for myself, instead of starving for you. But I didn’t, you know why? Because I'm such a good big brother, hm? I love you, and I'm showing it to you. So be a good girl and stay quiet-“ The whole time he was speaking, his hand was unbuttoning his clothes and stroking at his cock slowly, and he quickly shoved himself inside of her while covering her mouth with his free hand.

She bit down on his palm, not enough to hurt but enough to irritate Viserys. “Don’t- don’t fucking do that. Don’t wake the fucking dragon, just take it. Just take my love, Dany…” he whispers breathlessly in her ear, though she could barely hear him through her own screams. “Just- fuck- just think about tomorrow, when the Khal takes you. It won’t hurt so bad, now, hm? Because I've already deflowered you… you should thank me.” He repeats again, before bringing his lips to her own, engulfing her in a deep and messy kiss.

Daenerys’ screams start to subside into quiet moans and whimpers, her arms wrapping around her brother and her nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his back. “There you go, there… Gods, I love you, little sister. Just made for me, weren’t you? Not for Khal Drogo, me. We share the blood of the dragon, you and I. Meant to burn together…” He babbles out into her shoulder, sucking and biting marks into her skin without thinking of the consequences.

“Yours- Viserys…” She whimpers out, mostly to appease him. “Mhm- fuck, that’s right…” He hums out in response, his pace increasing rapidly as he nears the edge. “Do you want to come, Dany? I doubt your soon to be husband will ever make you come. But I will, because I love you- ah- so much.” He groans, his hand snaking between their bodies and rubbing at her clit at a ferocious pace, erupting a loud moan and causing her hips to buck up into him.

The sound drove him crazy, not long after spilling his seed deep inside her, letting out ragged breaths as he came to his senses again. But, never stopping his rubbing on her pearl, he quickly sent her over the edge too, and a lone tear slips her eye when she experiences that euphoria for the first time in her life. He grins wildly as he observes her expression, kissing her jawline gently. You should thank me.

“T-thank you, Viserys…” She mutters out weakly, her voice cracking. He hums in response before pulling out of her with a groan, kissing her lips and then her forehead before shuffling off of her, taking note of the bloody sheets under her.

“Don’t expect such mercy from your husband, Dany. He won’t love you. Not like I do.”

[violetsaffron5]

Lemon

Taglist • Ao3 • Social Media • Discord 18+ • Masterlists

Pairing: Toji x f!Reader

Toji comes home from a long day of gambling to his one true love

words: 900

cw: oral, sex toys

an: this is a love letter to my friend @lemonlover1110 💛this is the most unserious thing I have ever written

cover art: ilameys

Toji walks into the front door of his tiny studio apartment, kicking off his worn sneakers, and letting them fling into the room without a care in the world.

He sighs, running his hand down his face before rolling his shoulders and placing his fists at the center of his back, arching around them until his spine pops in several places.

“I’m home. Where are ya?” His gruff voice calls out, tired from a long day at the race track. He’d have brought home dinner, but he lost all of his money betting on the wrong fucking horse.

The inside information he had gotten was bad. He should kill the motherfucker who sold him the bad statistics, but that will have to wait because he has a new job he was just hired for.

Toji walks into his kitchen, grabbing one of the plastic cups he has kept in a stack off on the corner before filling it with water and downing it all in one gulp.

“Ah. There you are, pretty thing,” he grunts out as he slams the cup onto the counter, bending and crinkling the cup in his heavy-handed grasp.

There you are, indeed. Laying on his bed, just as he left you.

Long legs draped over his bed, overtop his single pure polyester sheet, hips, and waist curved sensually as always, laying on your side, so inviting, waiting for him to join you.

The two of you have been together for quite some time, a few years now he would guess, and you’ve always been there for him.

Each time a relationship goes into the pits, and nothing goes right, you’re always home, waiting for him. You never scream, or cuss and the two of you have never been in a fight.

You wear that same tender smile you’ve always worn, since the day you met, and you’ve always been so kind to him. Kinder than anyone.

Truly, you’re a girl sent from up above. He has his problems, but next to you, he can whether anything, the good times and the real fucking bad times too.

He knows you love him too, that even if you could leave him, you never would. It’s why he likes to dress you in lingerie he stole right out of the display case at the sex shop, and he likes to paint you in the makeup he grabs off the shelf when he thinks that shade of red would just look perfect on you.

Toji has no money, but if he did, he would spend it all on you because you deserve to be treated like the queen you are.

Toji walks over to his bed, sitting on the edge, helping you move so you’re in front of him.

“You look mighty pretty like this,” he compliments, running his thumb over your face, as you stare up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

Nobody seems to understand him, not in the ways you do. You lay there and do everything that he’s ever asked without complaint. You listen to him talk and vent about how fucking stupid everyone else is.

And if you could talk back, he knows you’d agree.

But you don’t need to talk, not when there are so many other things you could be doing together. Which is why he’s freeing his hardened cock from the confines of his pants.

He’s been thinking about coming home to you all day, and when he lost all of his money, he knew you would happily come to his aide, providing the best stress relief possible.

Toji’s cock is red, tip sticky with precum, want, and desire as you so delicately and gently wrap your lips around his hard length.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good,” he groans in relief, holding you at the back of your head, forcing you to take all of him at once, immediately.

You don’t complain.

He ruts his hips up, bobbing your head for you with reckless abandon, throwing his head back in ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moans out, “You always take me so fuckin’ well.”

You keep going, letting him fuck into you like the toy you are until his legs are shaking, cock twitching at the back of your throat. His vision goes white, groaning out your name as he paints your mouth white with his seed.

A whole new generation of Zenin’s gone to waste. His clan would be pissed.

Toji helps move you back onto the bed, where you’ll lay and wait for him again before he wipes the sweat off his brow. He tenderly and lovingly wipes away the little bit of cum that’s dribbled out of your mouth, shoving it back in with a smirk.

He’s always loved how real your skin feels - like an actual human laying awake, waiting for him to return.

Toji was able to order you through a sale online, the best discount he ever waited for, almost seventy-five percent off sex toys on eBay.

He adjusts his pants, making his way back to the front door, putting on his thin black shoes.

“I’ll be back later. Gotta go kill a couple of fuckin’ kids.”

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui

[abubblingcandle]

⭐ Send me a word/words and if I have it in a WIP I will sprint for 15mins on that project ⭐

Still normal but not likely mode:

Chicken

Spinach

Bagel

Cat

Paper

Books

Muchly appreciated to get me working on some of these fics and keep the motivation up through the end of January blues!

Once again I will put under the cut as this one will be long and it's a mix of Ted Lasso and Slow Horses but ...

Chicken - Pool Day

Spinach - Quick Repairs To Cope

Bagel - untitled Catherine Babysitter fic

Cat - Quick Repairs To Cope

Paper - There's No Place Like Home Ch4

Books - Every Time We Touch Ch6

Books - Every Time We Touch Ch6

“And I’m trying to read so turn it the fuck off,” Roy batted at the console instead and that at least got Jamie’s attention and the music slowly quietened. Roy flicked back to the page he was on and sunk back into the cushions. He hadn’t quite worked out this new book from Lasso yet but Phoebe would kill him if he read more Wrinkle in Time without her so he might as well get started on this new one but it wasn’t as engaging yet. Maybe Ruth would be able to stop round with more books at some point during the two weeks; he needed something to do with his time so he might as well get back into reading. He had liked books as a kid, but that was another thing that he left behind on that agonising trek north. Being that young in and academy so far away from home in a house he didn’t feel settled in didn’t leave much time for hobbies or children’s books.

And for that sprint I got 251 words!

Cat - Quick Repairs To Cope

“Oh fuck!” Catherine exclaimed. River gasped like an old lady clutching her pearls. He had never heard Catherine swear before. It just didn’t feel right, like some unwritten rule was being broken. “The cats.” “Cats?” River frowned, his heart pounding in his chest at the sudden change. “I was cat sitting. My neighbour’s in Inverness with his mother who is ill and so I’ve been looking after his cats. With all of this I completely forgot about them.” Catherine was a flurry of movement, pulling on her shoes and grabbing a set of keys. “Won’t they be …” River frowned, his brain subconsciously tugging him to his feet and following behind Catherine like a little duckling. He truly hadn’t known that he was going to come here tonight and he had just wanted to check in on Catherine but now that urge had been fulfilled, River didn’t know what else to do. He might as well be Catherine’s little tag along and go see some cats. “They have an automatic feeder and litter box and so, well, oh I hope they’re ok,” she fussed, bundling River into his shoes and out of the door before hurrying down the stairs.

For this sprint I got 225 words!

Spinach - Quick Repairs To Cope

“I wouldn’t take you as the type for cooking?” Catherine questioned, the knife clacking against the chopping board in a soothing repetition. River turned down the heat and gave it on last stir before resting the lid over the pan. “I used to do it with my grandma. She swore that a good home cooked meal could solve all ills,” River smiled, turning to lean backwards against the counter. His hands tightened on the lip, fingertips feeling every crack and crevice in the hastily applied laminate coating. “Rose always seemed kind,” Catherine nodded. The knife cut through the spinach, dicing it into tiny pieces with a practiced efficiency that told of Catherine’s opinion on a good home cooked meal as well.

That sprint got me 285 words!

Chicken - Pool Day

Swimming was good for his knee yes. But larking around on pool inflatables was not swimming and Roy was not doing it. “Boo,” Jamie pouted. “Your Uncle Roy’s being a chicken Pheebs!” “Don’t be a chicken Uncle Roy,” Phoebe replied. She was sitting with a can of Fanta, that he was going to regret giving her, astride a unicorn inflatable. Her little legs were going a mile a minute paddling her steed over to the edge of the pool. “I’ll do it if you will,” she hissed when the unicorn was in touching distance. “I’m not scared,” Roy growled. “I didn’t say you were,” Phoebe frowned. “I wanna do the slide with my Uncle Roy,” and how was he supposed to say no to that.

That sprint got me 200 words!

Paper - There's No Place Like Home Ch4

“It’s not healing like we had hoped and your fall just worsened those worries. We want to get you in there as soon as possible.” The doctor was talking but all the words were static in Jamie’s ears. It didn’t matter the details because his dad was nodding along and asking something. James’ hand was a steady weight on Jamie’s elbow as his mind drifted into the comforting void space he had taken to hiding in when things became all to much. His fingers ran over the paper hospital gown that had bunched up around his midriff. It was barely covering his business with a slit at the side so they could access his hip. Flimsy and weak and only just holding together, maybe this paper gown and Jamie weren’t dissimilar.

That sprint got me 211 words

Bagel - untitled Catherine Babysitter fic

“What’s got your knickers in a twist today?” Lamb huffed as Catherine placed the tea down on his desk. “Nothing,” Catherine protested. She gripped onto the sides of her skirt in a blatantly obvious attempt to stop her hands from moving and compulsively tidying the mess in the office around her. “This ain’t nothing, you’ve been busy bodying around here for hours now,” Lamb argued. He wasn’t wrong. Catherine had been in a couple of hours earlier than she usually was and had cleaned the whole place top to bottom, apart from Lamb’s Office of course. She had even brought breakfast bagels for the office. “Can’t someone just want to do a good job around here,” Catherine huffed. “No.”

That sprint got me 301 words!

[tetradynasty]

This little bit right here is one of my favorites in all of UU, and it makes me sad because everyone else just seems to gloss over it.

Sure, forced child support feng is pretty funny, but everyone ignores the whole, “Baby Shen swore to kill himself if Feng didn’t save his sister too.”

Shen is such a great character because he is, in professional terms, kinda fucked up. And it’s an excellent continuation from the last loop where we see, no, Feng didn’t cause him to be fucked up. He definitely did some damage, but there was something wrong (affectionate) with the boy from the start.

Cause just imagine how it plays out.

Feng is trundling along, getting in fights and winning handily, just doing asshole things, when he comes across a tiny boy named Shen who just got his ass beat in a martial arts tournament. Something clicks. This is the kid Fuuko told him about. If he teaches this kid, then he can fight Fuuko again. He can finally live his dream.

So he marches right up to the kid, says “You’re coming with me.”, throws him over his shoulder, and fucking takes off. This kid is yelling, screaming at Feng to put him down, Feng ignores the kid since he’s an asshole, and they eventually arrive at Feng’s house.

Feng drops the kid, and he immediately tries to attack Feng. Feng just brushes it off with a laugh and slaps him down, cause he’s an asshole. Rejoice, he tells the kid, because I am going to train you to become the strongest in the world.

The kid tells him to shove it up his ass. He’s going back to his sister.

Feng’s kinda dumbfounded. He didn’t even conceive of the idea that kidnapping this random kid and trying to train him wouldn’t work out well.

The kid says, fuck you, fuck your training, and fuck the horse you rode in on, my sister needs me.

So of course, Feng gets angry at this point.

He’s looming over the kid, a pure wall of muscle and bad intentions. He says, you are not leaving. You will shut up, do as I say, and you will enjoy it.

The kid attacks him again, and Feng’s a little impressed. Still a terrible idea, of course. Feng puts him down with a single punch. Cause he’s an asshole.

Why, the kid asks. Why me?

I made a promise. Feng replies, seeing no reason to lie. I swore to a woman named Fuuko Izumo that I would raise you. In return, she will fulfil my greatest wish.

The kid’s on the ground, leaking blood. He’s covered in bruises and cuts, he’s wheezing, and in no shape to do anything.

Okay, he says. I’ll let you raise me. But here’s my condition. You have to raise my sister too.

Feng doesn’t bother to laugh. No, he replies. Because he’s an asshole, and why would he want to raise a second brat on top of this one?

The kid looks Feng in the eyes, and he’s startled by what he sees. He sees eyes a lot like his own. The eyes of the dragon.

“If you don’t raise my sister, then I’ll kill myself.”

Feng blinks.

I’ll do it when you’re not looking. Or in the middle of the night. I’ll throw myself off a cliff. You think this woman of yours is gonna be happy if she comes back to find my dead body?, the kid taunts him.

Feng’s taken aback and it shows on his face.

You’re bluffing, he tells the boy.

You wanna find out? the boy shoots back.

Feng is an asshole. He can beat this kid black and blue. Keep an eye on him at all times. Scare the kid into staying alive.

Or he can go get the sister.

And in the end, begrudgingly and complaining the whole time, he makes the right decision. And in the back of his mind he wonders, is this what Fuuko meant?

Is this what it means to care for others, with an unwavering heart?