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souliebird · 10 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap.

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness.

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses.

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown.

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation.

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up.

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in.

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night.

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out.

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched.

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!”

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie.

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question.

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.”

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now.

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can.

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand.

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know.

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself.

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.”

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them.

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt.

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time.

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you.

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter.

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it.

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter.

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay.

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey.

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt?

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead.

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away.

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least.

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode.

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.”

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance.

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it.

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it.

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path.

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality.

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track.

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt.

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!”

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying.

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.”

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?”

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!”

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue.

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you.

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen.

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him.

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be.

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world.

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide.

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock

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rafesapologist · 3 months

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the setback ─ rafe cameron; part fourteen

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: swearing, just angst as per

author's note: hi loves, i apologize for the wait it took to upload this chapter. i've had some writer's block so much and i lowkey hate this chapter but it's a needed filler for what is to come!!

"Baby?" you heard a hushed voice calling out from beside you. You let out a muffled groan, your body resisting the call to wake up. A gentle hand rubbed your back slowly, trying to coax you into consciousness. It was Rafe.

As you became more aware, the memories of last night began to press down on you, hard. Guilt churned in the pit of your stomach, making you feel nauseous. The feeling was so unbearable that you could hardly stand yourself. Kiara's words replayed in your head like a broken record, each repetition a stab of pain.

"Come on, it's time to get up," Rafe's voice was soft and soothing, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside you. You shifted slightly, feeling the weight of his hand on your back, grounding you in the present moment.

"I don't want to get up," you mumbled, your voice barely audible. The thought of facing the day, of dealing with the aftermath of last night's events, felt overwhelming.

Rafe moved closer, wrapping his arm around you protectively. "I know it's hard," he said gently. "But you can't stay in bed forever."

You sighed, burying your face in the pillow. The guilt gnawed at you, each passing second bringing more clarity to the mistakes you had made. "I can't stop thinking about what Kiara said," you confessed, your voice trembling. "She was right. This is all my fault."

Rafe shook his head, his grip on you tightening slightly. "Hey, don't say that," he urged. "You didn't cause this. JJ came in here looking for a fight. None of this is your fault."

You turned to look at him, your eyes filled with unshed tears. "But if I hadn't... if I didn't come back here, maybe things would be different. Maybe JJ wouldn't be hurt, and Kiara wouldn't hate me."

Rafe's expression softened, and he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "You can't blame yourself for their actions," he said firmly. "They made their choices. You have every right to be happy, and if being with me makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I just feel so lost," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I don't know what to do."

"I know," Rafe cooed, brushing your hair out of your face gently. "I'm sorry, baby. You don't deserve this." He kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer, his arms creating a barrier between you and the guilt gnawing at your thoughts.

You felt a momentary sense of relief, guarded in his embrace, but the reality of the situation quickly resurfaced. "I need to visit him," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's the only thing that'll make me feel the least bit better about all of this."

Rafe hesitated, his brows knitting together in concern. "Do you think that's a good idea? You know, with Kiara being there and everything."

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the dilemma pressing down on you. "I don't know," you admitted. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing. I have to see him, to know he's okay."

Rafe's grip on you tightened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. "I get that, but Kiara's pretty stubborn. She might make it harder on you than it already is."

"I have to try," you insisted, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. "If I don't, I'll regret it. I need to face this, no matter how hard it is."

Rafe gazed at you for a long moment, his expression a mix of worry and understanding. He brushed a tear away from your cheek, his touch tender and comforting. "Alright," he finally said. "But I'm coming with you."

You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," Rafe replied softly, pressing his forehead against yours. "I promise."

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for what lay ahead. The thought of facing Kiara and the rest of your friends filled you with dread, but you knew you had to do it. For JJ, for yourself, and for any chance at healing the rift between you and your friends.

As you got dressed, Rafe stayed close, his presence a constant source of reassurance. He held your hand as you walked out the door, ready to bear whatever awaited you at the hospital. The drive there was filled with a tense silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When you finally arrived, your heart pounded in your chest as you made your way to the entrance. Rafe squeezed your hand gently, giving you one last look of encouragement before you stepped inside. The sterile smell of the hospital hit you, and the reality of what you were about to do settled in your gut like a stone.

You approached the front desk, your voice shaky as you asked for JJ's room number. The nurse eyed you suspiciously but gave you the information. As you walked down the hallway, you spotted Kiara pacing outside JJ's room, her face a mask of anger and worry.

She looked up as you approached, her eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I came to see JJ," you said, your voice steady despite the fear bubbling inside you. "I need to make sure he's okay."

Kiara scoffed, shaking her head. "Haven't you done enough? Just go home, Y/N. You're the last person he needs to see right now."

"Please, Kie," you pleaded, taking a step closer. "I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but I need to see him. Just for a minute."

Kiara stared at you for a long moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something else—hurt, maybe. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine," she muttered. "But if he doesn't want to see you, you leave. Got it?"

You nodded quickly, grateful for even a small chance to make things right. "Thank you," you said softly.

Rafe squeezed your hand one last time before you stepped into JJ's room, the door closing softly behind you. The sight of him lying there, bruised and battered, made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

You stepped closer to JJ's bedside, your fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. The room was sterile and cold, but the sight of JJ lying there, looking so fragile and broken, brought a warmth of regret and sorrow that almost choked you. JJ, who was always the strong one, the protector, now lay battered and bruised because of you. The guilt gnawed at your insides, making you feel nauseous.

"JJ?" you greeted him sheepishly, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm... I'm so sorry." Your words were strained, burdened by the enormity of your regret. Your eyes flickered across his injured body, taking in every cut, every bruise, every sign of the violence that had transpired. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him directly in the eyes, not yet.

At the sound of your voice, JJ's head snapped toward you. He winced slightly, the movement causing him pain, but his eyes bore into yours with a mix of anger, betrayal, and confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough and strained from both the pain and the emotions coursing through him.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "I had to see you," you said, your voice breaking. "I needed to know you were okay. I'm so sorry for everything."

JJ's expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he glared at you. "Sorry?" he spat, the word dripping with bitterness. "Do you have any idea what you and Rafe put me through? What you put all of us through?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. The raw hurt in JJ's voice was a dagger to your heart. "I know," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I know I messed up, JJ. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did," JJ snapped, scoffing at your distress. "I don't even know why you're here right now. Shouldn't you be off frolicking with Rafe?"

Your expression fell, your brows furrowing at the seriousness of JJ's resentment. His words cut deep, and you felt the sting of betrayal and guilt wash over you. Taking a hesitant step forward, you slowly sat at the foot of JJ's hospital bed, sighing as you gazed down at your feet.

"I know that nothing I say is going to make up for what has been done," you began, your voice shaky. You sniffled back your tears, trying to steady yourself. "But this whole thing is much bigger than me."

Your lip quivered as you spoke, desperate for JJ to hear you out. "I didn't come back here in hopes of getting back with him. None of this was planned, Jay. I hated him when we first got here, you know that. But then things happened, and I... I can't help how I feel, okay? I know he's done shitty things, but so have I, so have all of us. And trust me, I tried to fight off how I feel, but it was killing me, JJ. I know that's hard to hear, but I need you to understand where I'm coming from. I'm stuck here, forced to choose between my family and the person I love. Do you know how hard that is?"

JJ's face softened slightly, but the hurt and anger were still evident in his eyes. He looked away, his jaw clenched as he processed your words. The silence in the room was thick, the tension almost unbearable.

"Why him?" JJ finally asked, his voice quieter, almost broken. "Of all people, why did it have to be him?"

Your heart ached at his question. "It's been this way since before we left, when all of this started," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. You let out a dry laugh, the reality of the situation settling over you. "I wish I had a better answer than that, but it's the truth. I can't help how I feel."

JJ sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "This is so fucked up," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration.

"I know," you replied softly. "But I'm here, trying to make things right. And I'm begging you, JJ, please don't make me choose. You guys are the only family I've ever known, but," you began to tear up more, laughing quietly through your tears as you shook your head, "I love him."

JJ stared back at you with a sympathetic look, one you hadn't seen in a long time. His eyes scanned your face, as if trying to determine your sincerity. It was evident that you were telling the truth by the way your lip quivered and your cheeks flushed with redness. He sighed in defeat, looking down at his lap.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," JJ admitted, his voice tinged with sadness.

"You won't, JJ," you said earnestly. "Just please... I can't be made to choose between the two of you. Because it's always going to be him." You swallowed, biting your lip.

JJ's eyes flickered with pain, but he nodded slowly. "I get it," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "It just hurts, you know? Seeing you with him after everything."

"I know," you replied, your voice breaking. "And I'm so sorry for that. I never wanted to hurt you."

JJ took a deep breath, composing himself. "Just promise me one thing," he said, looking up at you with earnest eyes. "Promise me that this is what makes you happy. That's all I want for you."

"I promise," you said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And I promise that I'll always be here for you, no matter what, just like before."

JJ squeezed your hand back, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Okay," he said, his voice barely audible. "Okay."

You leaned in close, planting a soft kiss on JJ's forehead, your touch gentle against his bruised skin. His eyes briefly fluttered open, meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and resignation. A small, understanding smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as you pulled back, a silent farewell passing between you.

"I'll see you later, Y/N," JJ murmured quietly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the tension.

Turning away from JJ's hospital bed, you walked back into the waiting room where Rafe sat, his focus buried in a magazine that seemed more like a distraction than a source of interest. A small chuckle escaped you as you observed him, shaking your head slightly at his attempt to appear occupied.

Rafe looked up at the sound of your laughter, concern knitting his brows together. He set the magazine aside and rose from his seat, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Rafe asked softly, stepping closer to you.

You met his gaze, feeling a surge of gratitude for his constant presence and support. "Yeah," you replied, a faint smile touching your lips. "I think we're okay."

Rafe nodded, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "Good," he murmured, his voice filled with reassurance. "Let's get out of here."

Exiting the hospital, you and Rafe walked hand-in-hand, avoiding Kiara's piercing stare as you passed by. Her disapproval hung heavy in the air, but you focused on the warmth of Rafe's hand holding yours, grounding you in the moment.

Once beyond the hospital doors, away from the sterile corridors and tense glances, you turned to Rafe. Leaning into his chest, you exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the past twelve hours begin to lift. His arms enveloped you instinctively, providing a sense of security and calm amidst the emotional turmoil.

Standing there together on the sidewalk, Rafe gently rubbed your back, his touch soothing as you let go of the tension that had gripped you. The outside world offered a welcome change from the clinical atmosphere inside, the breeze whispering through the trees and carrying away some of the heaviness that had settled on your shoulders.

"I just wish everyone would accept us, Rafe," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of longing as you stared out into the tranquil evening sky. The town's bustle seemed distant now, replaced by the quiet intimacy between you and Rafe.

Rafe gently squeezed your hand, his touch a reassuring anchor in the midst of your uncertainty. His eyes, reflecting the fading hues of the sunset, held a warmth that mirrored his words. "I know, baby," he murmured, his voice soft against the backdrop of the evening breeze. "They'll come around some day."

You let out a sigh, feeling a knot of tension loosen in your chest as Rafe's understanding washed over you. "I never imagined it would be this hard," you admitted, turning to meet his gaze. "But being with you, it's worth it."

A gentle smile played on Rafe's lips, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "It is," he affirmed, his gaze holding yours with unwavering sincerity. "We'll show them, I promise."

As the sky deepened into twilight, you leaned into Rafe's embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. The world around you seemed to fade into a soft blur, leaving only the comforting presence of Rafe beside you. In that moment, amidst the quiet reassurances and the fading light, you found a sense of peace and belonging that was uniquely yours.

"Y/N?" Rafe's voice was filled with a mixture of determination and vulnerability as he peered down at you, gently holding you at arm's length so he could look deeply into your eyes.

"Yeah?" you replied softly, your voice tinged with the fragile emotions swirling within you.

"I... I want to be with you forever," Rafe confessed, his voice steady but brimming with sincerity.

A rush of warmth spread through you at his words, unexpected yet profoundly welcomed. His declaration stirred a mix of love and curiosity in your heart, leaving you both elated and curious about where this conversation might lead.

"You always will be, silly," you reassured him with a tender smile, your fingertips gently tracing the line of his jaw.

Rafe took a deep breath, his gaze holding yours with unwavering intensity. "No, I mean... Y/N, I can't take the risk of losing you ever again. I want this to be permanent," he continued, his voice softening with each word.

Your brows furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the depth of his declaration. A flutter of uncertainty mingled with joy in your chest as you waited for him to elaborate, your heart beating faster with anticipation.

"What are you trying to say, Rafe?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat.

Rafe paused, his expression tender yet determined as he took both of your hands in his. "I want to marry you, Y/N," he said earnestly, his voice carrying the weight of his love and commitment. "I want us to build a future together, to wake up beside you every morning, to do everything together. I want to be with you in every lifetime."

His words washed over you, enveloping you in a wave of emotions—love, gratitude, and a profound sense of belonging. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed the depth of his feelings and the certainty in his voice.

"I... Rafe, I..." Your voice caught in your throat, overwhelmed by the enormity of his proposal. You searched his eyes, finding nothing but unwavering love and sincerity.

"Y/N," Rafe whispered, his voice a soft caress against the quiet evening breeze. His thumbs traced gentle circles over the backs of your hands, his touch tender and reassuring. "I know this is sudden, but I've never been more certain of anything in my life. You're my home, the calm in my storm, the light that guides me through the darkest nights. And while I don't expect us to rush into anything next week or even next year, I want you to know—I plan on marrying you someday."

His words lingered in the air, shimmering like constellations in the twilight sky above. Each syllable carried the weight of his love, his voice a melody that resonated deep within your soul. You looked up at him, your heart swelling with warmth and gratitude for the man who stood before you, vulnerable and steadfast in his declaration.

A soft smile graced your lips, touched by the depth of his devotion and the promise of a future entwined. The world around you seemed to blur into insignificance as you focused on the warmth of his gaze and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Rafe," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, reverberating with emotion. "That means everything to me. You mean everything to me."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. "I mean every word," he murmured against your skin, his breath a gentle caress against your cheek. "Whenever you're ready, whenever we're ready, I want us to take that step together."

In that moment, the evening breeze seemed to whisper its approval, weaving through your hair and carrying the scent of the salty ocean breeze. The world felt suspended in time, cocooned in the tender embrace of Rafe's love and the promise of a future filled with shared dreams and unwavering companionship.

"I love you," you confessed softly, the words spilling from your heart like petals unfurling in the warmth of spring.

"I love you too, Y/N," Rafe replied, his arms pulling you close, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and affection. "I'll show you everyday how much I mean it, I swear."

Tears welled up in your eyes, reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights above as you stared down at your intertwined hands with Rafe. A single tear escaped, tracing a shimmering path down your cheek, followed by more that fell freely, unchecked. You sniffled softly, the weight of emotions catching in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Rafe's voice was filled with concern, his eyes searching yours for answers. His brows furrowed as he gently wiped away a tear with his thumb.

"Nothing," you shook your head, your voice breaking with the intensity of your feelings. "It's just... nobody has ever loved me like this. As loudly as you have."

Your words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You felt exposed, yet liberated by the honesty that spilled forth. The depth of Rafe's love had cracked open something inside you, releasing a flood of gratitude and disbelief that someone could cherish you so profoundly.

Rafe's expression softened, his touch tender as he cupped your face in his hands. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with quiet conviction, "you deserve every ounce of love I have to give. You're my everything."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, allowing his words to seep into your soul and heal the wounds of doubt and insecurity. His love was a beacon, guiding you through the shadows of your past and illuminating a future where you were cherished beyond measure.

"I'll never hurt you again, Rafe," you swore, the sincerity in your voice ringing clear as you locked eyes with him. "I'll never leave here again if it's not with you."

Your words carried a solemn weight, a promise forged from the depths of your heart. The pain of past mistakes still lingered, a reminder of the fractures that love had healed. But now, standing before Rafe with unwavering determination, you pledged to protect what you had found with him.

Rafe held your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and resolve. He reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek, his touch a soothing balm against your pledge.

"I believe you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice steady and filled with quiet reassurance. "Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight ever again after that stunt you pulled two years ago." He chuckled, trying to break up the tension of the moment.

"I wouldn't dream of leaving," you chuckled softly, shaking your head at Rafe's playful humor. His comment had brought a lightness to the moment, a gentle reminder of the bond and the shared understanding between you.

Rafe grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection as he squeezed your hand gently. "Good to know," he replied with a teasing lilt in his voice. "Because I don't plan on letting you go anywhere."

"Likewise," you replied with a smile, your heart swelling with gratitude for the depth of his commitment.

"Do you think you're ever gonna tell them about this?" Rafe's voice carried a gentle cadence, his eyes flickering towards the hospital where Kiara, JJ, and Sarah were.

You exhaled softly, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of decisions yet to be made. Running a hand through your hair, you met Rafe's gaze with a mixture of contemplation and resolve. "Eventually," you murmured, your eyes drifting past him to the entrance doors. "But it has to be at the right time. Not like this."

The hospital surroundings seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet introspection. The night air held a hint of anticipation, as if it too awaited the unfolding of truths and the gentle cadence of words spoken from the heart.

Rafe nodded, his expression soft yet filled with understanding. His fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of solidarity and patience. "We'll find the right moment," he assured you, his voice a soothing melody in the stillness. "When the time is right."

"Yeah," you agreed softly, your voice carrying a hint of contemplation as your gaze remained fixed on the hospital building. Your thoughts drifted to how your friends would react to the news, the weight of their potential responses lingering in the air like unspoken promises. "Someday."

"Someday," Rafe echoed, his voice a gentle reassurance that echoed your sentiment. His hand squeezed yours lightly, a silent reminder of his support.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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tugoslovenka · 10 months

Text

Safehaven

Summary: You have felt a little insecure in your situationship with Halsin as of late. Fortunately, the druid seems to have taken notice—and takes some steps in consoling your fears and self-consciousness.

A/N: I just want to say this was something of a self-comfort fic. I don’t often see plus size/fat bodies in these fics (I’m responsible for doing the same in all of my work too) and I felt like making active efforts in remedying that. Especially when it comes to Halsin. With that said, obviously don’t take this as anything other than an exercise in writing something different. All bodies are beautiful, I just want fat ones to be more represented in fiction sometimes.

This is also my first time writing in second person and I must say, it’s very unnatural for me to do so. But I hope it at least tickled someone’s pickle.

Also available on AO3!

The tent was haphazardly made. Having lived in Baldur’s Gate for most of your life, nature was not where you felt most comfortable. Although, this entire adventure has been an exercise in understanding yourself ever since the Nautiloid crash a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes you felt utterly useless, having to trek through some of the rougher parts of this strange land. Other times, you felt strong—a leader, even, among your companions. It was an odd feeling, stepping in to mediate a confrontation, consoling others or simply having others come to you for advice.

The anonymity brought upon by the abduction slowly turned into a journey of self-discovery. Baldur’s Gate was too big a city to truly achieve the passions you wanted to. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, with strangers who are equally as confused as you, it’s different.

You’re different.

The shadow looming over you brings you back to the sound of crackling fires and whetstone against metal. In tattered leathers, Halsin stands, a hand outstretched towards you.

“Yes?” you ask, following the bulging veins on his arm until you note some of the scarring on his shoulder from today’s goblin encounter. Your eyes quickly divert to meet his—warm brown, with a speckle of ember that almost glows at night.

“Where have your thoughts leapt?” He cocks his head to one side, observing you with care. The druid had an uncanny ability to sense your discomfort from a mile away. You sometimes wondered if he had an infinite supply of Potions of Mind Reading, topping up each hour just to ensure he was inside your head at all times.

“Oh?” you quip, hugging your own body in response. “It’s been a long day, I suppose.”

He kneels down, blocking most of the light from the campfire. With elbows resting on his thighs, he continues to stare. Instinctively, you raise your knees until most of your body is covered. You wrap your arms around them, placing your chin in between. His eyes simply follow your movements.

“Is that all?” He turns his hand until his palm faces you, offering it in case you felt the need to hold it. You always did, but embarrassment or pride often had the last word in the conundrum of comfort.

Halsin never pushed you to share more than you were willing to, and so very quickly, he retracts his hand. The air is particularly chilly tonight, and even though you handle the cold better than most, the goosebumps spreading on your skin prompt you to involuntarily shake when a gust of wind passes by.

“I do not mean this to offend you, but your tent is…” he trails off, looking at the deflated fabric that could serve as a second blanket if need be. “... Not very—”

“—It’s shit, I’m aware,” you chuckle, letting out a yawn when you feel the shakes come again.

Halsin smiles. Almost immediately, you grin back at him. There is something so captivating about the wrinkles on the sides of his face showing each time he is chuffed with your comments. He would call them ‘direct’ even though you knew he probably meant rude. Not that he would allow himself to say so.

“I was going to say not very safe,” he corrects. “I can feel a storm brewing below my feet. If it encourages the bunnies to burrow, then I imagine it will not be pleasant.”

“After all this, dying from drowning by rainfall sounds rather embarrassing.” Your hands begin to rub your shoulders in an effort to raise your body temperature.

“I know we have both been rather busy as of late, but I do miss you, little one.”

Little one. Your teeth grit at the sound of it. It takes the willpower of a thousand suns to not bite off a chunk inside your cheek when he says it. The first time he did, it was following a particularly generous indulging of your cunt—when he refused to be serviced in return—and wrapped you in his arms instead. A thank you, he called it, for aiding him in the fight against his captors. The second time was after your face was painted in his seed, scorching hot like the anger he had for Kagha’s activities in the Grove. A kiss on the forehead followed. The third time was during a cuddle atop one of the particularly beautiful outlooks near the settlement—where he Wildshaped into a bear to keep you cushioned against the uncomfortable floor.

It was frustrating. Never have you felt so secure yet vulnerable with a person. At times, he made you feel like the most unique flower in a gardenia of preciousness, and yet he almost seemed frightened to touch you. You couldn’t remember the last time his touch was wanting, and it had been a month since your last indulgement.

“You certainly don’t act like it,” you murmur, scooting away until you felt your back hit the tent—or whatever was left of it.

Halsin’s eyes narrow. You have studied his expressions well enough to know this was his way of practicing his thoughts before he felt comfortable enough to speak out loud. He opens his mouth to utter a protest, but the loud cheers from Karlach interrupt him. You both turn to see the tiefling using a stick to gently pet over Scratch’s head, squealing in excitement when he drops a ball with a bark.

You take the time to disengage.

“Nevermind.” Standing, you pat away some of the dirt on your thighs and pull down your top, careful to pull at the bottom until it covers the bits you want it to. The druid is quick to follow, and you find yourself blocked by his giant frame as he looks down at you with concern.

“Come,” he instructs, limply pointing towards a direction away from the camp. “Follow me.”

“Halsin, it’s late and if this storm is—”

“Please.”

You relent. With a groan, you lean down to pick up the giant blanket one of the tieflings knitted as a farewell present and wrap it around your front. Halsin is the first to move, occasionally looking back to check if you’re nearby. Once you’re far enough that the noise from camp turns distant is when his hand intertwines with yours, squeezing a few times to offer reassurance.

Rolling your eyes would have been the appropriate response, were it not for the exhaustion you feel in fighting the inside voices and the man responsible for them.

The journey is spent in complete silence, though the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It takes some time until you reach a nearby creek. Halsin lets go of your hand once you reach a spot he finds appropriate, but not before giving it a gentle kiss. He tells you he will take precaution in scoping the area for any threats. You take the time to sit on a nearby rock, curling the blanket until it covers every inch of your body save for your head.

It doesn't take long. The approaching footsteps catch your attention and you see the large druid return with a couple of branches. He kneels next to you, using some of the nearby rocks to create a campfire.

“I know you are upset with me,” he murmurs, striking two sharp stones against one another until sparks fly in the air. “But I wish to understand why.”

You sigh. “Halsin, is this the time?”

“I miss you,” he retorts, continuing to smash the pebbles more aggressively this time. “And I cannot bear this tension.”

“Tension?” you scoff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you are not.”

Another spark.

“And how would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

More sparks.

“Do you?”

“It would help if you allowed me to discern what troubles you.”

A flame. A small one, followed by smoke that quickly blows in the wind. Halsin finally turns to you, one knee on the ground as he rests his body weight on one hand.

“Do I trouble you?” you challenge, gently rocking your knee in frustration.

His expression softens. “What?”

“It does seem practiced for you to whisk me away somewhere where no one else can see us any time you want to show me affection,” you snap. “I wonder if I’m the trouble here.”

Halsin shakes his head. The fire next to him begins growing until you feel a wave of heat in your direction.

“You are… anything but. What would make you say that?”

You shrug, pressing your lips together. Either he was rather oblivious at his actions, or just well-rehearsed in the responses he typically gave. You see him searching your eyes, darting left and right as though they would give him the sense he sought for.

“When was the last time you touched me in front of everyone?” you ask, voice lowering barely above a whisper. “When was the last time you touched me with purpose?”

“My heart, you misunderstand,” he responds, inching closer until you can smell the salt and earth his body carries. “My lack of affections have nothing to do with you, but with—with… well, me.”

Another excuse. One that you’ve heard many times before.

“Of course,” you scoff, turning your gaze to the creak nearby.

He reaches through the blanket until you can feel his hand tightening around yours. “Look at me.”

You do so, reluctantly.

“I have lived for many years. I have taken many lovers. You are not some conquest I keep on a tab of many. I have—the shadow curse, it has been preoccupying my daydreams and nightmares. It has nothing to do with you.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then why come to me in the first place?”

He takes a few minutes before answering. “Passion. Attraction. Long lonely nights that needed—”

“—So that’s the reason. You needed a quick release.”

“No,” he quickly interrupts. “You are much more than a passionate night. But that’s precisely why I don’t wish to rush this. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that?” you arch an eyebrow.

“That somehow you are a quick solution for my frustrations. Yes, I am lonely and I have been, ever since I’ve had the Grove responsibilities thrust upon me. And yes, you have ignited a spark within me that threatens to explode into a wildfire.” Halsin’s thumb begins circling your hand. “But you are also wonderful. I can hear you speak about your love of painting until I grow old. I can watch you playing with those tiefling children until my eyes wet with tears. I can’t bear to see you fight, because my heart tears each time I see another scar on your body.”

You search his eyes for deceit, the corners of which begin to sparkle in the dim moonlight. He curls his hand until it’s holding yours tightly, while his other reaches to touch the side of your face. You’ve always compared the rough skin on his palm to tree bark, and you would have melted into his touch were it not for the many questions you felt necessary to ask.

“It has nothing to do with the others or with you. I would happily cradle you in my arms each day, professing my adoration for you the moment the sun’s rays illuminate the skies until it dims down to the blackness of night. And I apologize that I have not done that.” His thumb rubs small circles on your cheek as he speaks, making sure to stare at you as though speaking to your soul.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do.” He tugs on your hand until you allow him to pull it towards his lips. He gives a gentle kiss on your knuckles, leaning his cheek against them. “I was not aware you wished it of me.”

You shake your head. “Much more than that, Halsin. I want you to crave me,” you profess. “I sometimes feel like you’re not willing to take the extra step. It’s as though you pull back from me when I need you most.”

He nods. “I do, but that’s mostly to contain myself. I may be an old bear, but there are some parts of me that I cannot fully control. I don’t wish to cause you any harm should it come to it. I am especially prone to outbursts at this time, given the circumstances.”

You pause. Halsin has sometimes spoken of his drawbacks—the side he’s not proud of as he would say—of being a druid. His Wildshape afforded him many conveniences, though even you have seen the yellow glow of his eyes at the height of his emotions. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you often had to squeeze your legs together to suppress the gushing need that rose from there at the very thought of it.

“Alright…” you trail off, forming a fist with your free hand, letting the anxiety rest there. “I suppose I’m not used to this. I more so felt you had changed your mind—didn’t find what you were expecting.”

“What do you mean?”

You nod towards your body in gesture. It takes him a short while before he understands the meaning, and quickly reaches to rest both hands against your cheeks. He shakes his head. “No. Never. You are important to me, attractive to me, as you are. What a privilege I have been bestowed upon, having mattered to you this much.”

With some apprehension, Halsin begins tugging at the large fur that covers most of your body. It easily slips down, allowing him full view of your frame, curled against yourself. He reaches forward, touching your neck first, dragging a finger from your chin until he reaches the shirt that covers the valley between your breasts.

“All of you—your softness, your plumpness, your swell,” he mutters, leaning until you feel the surprisingly soft lips against your skin. He inhales deeply, lips hovering over your left breast. “It does not matter. I love every bit of it.” Taking a hand, he reaches in the spot between your waist and hips, squeezing delicately. Instinctively, you jump at the discomfort, but he quickly stills you.

“Halsin, you don’t have to say any of this.” The nervous chuckle betrays you when your hand grabs his in an effort to move it aside. To this, he only hums. Before you have time to react, both hands tear the front of your shirt until your upper body is exposed to the elements. The same slow instincts fail to cover it, because his hands have tightened around your wrists before you can do so.

“Besides,” he continues, easily holding you down when you try to move your hands away. “Your voluptuousness makes for a greater resting place for all the seed I’m going to spill on account of this night.”

Immediately, you stop fidgeting. Blinking a few times, it takes a moment for your brain to understand what your ears have perceived. The druid takes the opportunity to lean forward and take one of your breasts in his mouth. The contact makes you hiss, and still, you are unable to move from his grip. Instead, you moan, not caring for the loudness. His tongue has always been exceptionally good at weakening you. You can feel him twirl it around your nipple, followed by a light teething that prompts you to buck your hips forward.

“Halsin,” you moan, attempting to release from his hold for a second time. Fluttering your eyes closed, you lean back until you feel the tree trunk against your shoulder blades. He follows, not allowing you a moment of peace as he swirls his tongue over your hard nipple. Biting down, he begins suckling at the soft skin when you attempt to close your legs together to satisfy the ache between them.

With a pop, he releases your nipple, cheek resting against the skin as he looks up at you.

“Would you like that?” he wonders, a gentle bucking of his hips making it evident he too was seeking friction. “For me to show you how much I truly crave you?”

You bite your lip in response, hard enough that the metallic taste starts swirling somewhere inside your mouth. Nodding slowly, you attempt to tug away once again, and this time the druid allows it. With newfound freedom of movement, your hands find themselves fisting his messy hair when you propel yourself forward, landing on your knees and capturing his lips in yours. He is solid as stone, unmoving when you do so, and only grunts when your tongues find each other.

Hands begin roaming—his, yours—over soft and hardened bits, frantically looking for somewhere to rest, to hold. Halsin’s are particularly active, first finding your hair, then your cheeks, then your shoulders, then your hips, before finally resting at the front of your belly. You cringe and suck in air on impulse—habit. It only makes him squeeze harder.

“This is the body I have adored since the first time you granted me permission to touch it,” he growls, pulling away from your heated kisses. “I have hungered for every inch of you. Through sleepless nights and anxiety-ridden trips, I have grown to know this is what I want.”

Responding in full sentences is not an option. Not when he dips his head, trailing kisses along your belly, on the folds that he so carefully grabs hold of with one hand—while the other pushes itself through the confines of your trousers to find your soaking nub. Delightful cries escape your lips when he begins circling his fingers, putting enough pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head from the feeling.

“The stream of pleasures you produce, I will lap like an animal starved,” he coos, free hand pushing you to sink lower, until he has enough space to lodge himself between your legs. “Then I will fuck you until you are mute from screaming. Are you content with that, my heart?”

Gods above and below, you think. You can only nod, and you do so, rather vigorously. The chuckle that escapes his lips seems to contend him for now, and so he momentarily leaves your aching clit to help free you from the confines of fabric. Resting slanted, partway exhausted and panting could not have been a sight to behold, but Halsin’s bulge spoke differently.

“Please…” you beg.

“No need to beg,” he comments before standing up, hands finding the belt on his pants until they release the cock that bounces lightly against his stomach. “There is nowhere I would rather be than inside you.”

The very thought of having him rut into you was an occupying thought during most evenings. And despite the bruises your throat suffered for days the last time you attempted to take him fully, the gush of wetness sounds the night at the thought of your cunt choking it.

“Spread your legs,” he instructs. “I need to see you.”

You sit up, carefully aligning your backside until you are able to find a somewhat pleasant spot to rest against. Halsin’s hand reaches for his throbbing member, where you spot a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. He uses his thumb to spread it across his head, letting out a low groan as he does so. Needing no further encouragement, you spread your legs per his command, carefully analyzing his features and how they soften when you present yourself to him.

“Praise Silvanus,” he says, almost to himself. “How beautiful you are.”

Following his line of sight, you look down to see the mess that you have become. Glistening in the fire and moonlight, there is a trail of wetness that begins at your drooling hole, leading in both directions of your thighs. The druid clears his throat, and when you gaze up, you see the faintest glimmer of yellow light leave his eyes as he shakes his head. Letting go of his member, he drops down on his knees in front of you, staring at your pulsating cunt.

The heart that threatens to escape your chest follows the same rhythm between your legs. It’s craving to be touched—to be adored—and as though listening to your thoughts, Halsin leans in to give a soft kiss to your right thigh. Then your left. You look down to meet his eyes, as he meticulously drags his tongue where his lips first kiss, with enough hunger in his eyes to make you audibly moan at the sight.

“I thought,” you gasp when he bites at your inner thigh. “I thought you said I wouldn’t have to beg.”

“No, but I will indulge in this for as long as I can,” he responds, scattering kisses in painstakingly slow fashion at the soft flesh of your thighs. He uses both hands to hold them, and with no effort on his part, sinks you lower on the stone until you are halfway lying down on your back. With legs in the air, he takes his time to study you.

You can see his hips moving rhythmically despite the control he attempts to assert, as though urging him forward. Still, he takes one hand to glide over your stomach, moving lower until it finally meets your center. You immediately hiss, pushing your head against the rock at the gentleness he offers. With two fingertips, he begins circling your clit again, while his other hand holds your leg in the air for support.

“How warm you are,” he says, picking up the pace once he finds you are able to squirm too much for his liking. You push your pelvis forward, needing more friction. “How much warmer you will be when I spill all of myself into you until morning comes.”

Intelligent thought leaves your senses the more he speaks, you writhe and moan like a wanton sinner. This seems to please him, and so with no real warning, he slides not one but two fingers inside you. Your head raises to look between your legs, but you are met with the druid’s intense stare as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to indulge in the explosions that are firing inside your head. His teeth find their mark at your throat and he begins sucking away while his fingers pump in and out continuously, the heel of his palm slapping against your slickness with each thrust. You don’t notice when, but his other hand has found your nipple, carefully pulling at it to elicit a scream loud enough to be heard in Baldur’s Gate.

“Halsin!” you moan, incapable of saying anything else at the intensity of his ministrations. He smiles against the nape of your neck, biting before moving to kiss your lips instead. Your tongues battle—indulge—in one another’s mouths as he continues this delicious assault on your senses.

He breaks the kiss suddenly, resting his forehead against yours. You whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, noting the considerable lack of fullness he has provided.

“I need to prepare you for me,” he sighs, hands reaching out to his throbbing member once again. He lets out a moan when his soaked hand begins pumping the tip, where you now see a considerable dollop of pre-cum mixing with your juices. “Do you think you can handle three of my fingers, little one?”

His fingers were particularly attractive to you. The way he would whittle with enough dexterity to preplex you. The grip he held his staff with each time he would cast a spell. The roughness contrasting your soft skin any time he would touch any part of you. Though, he had a particular love of stuffing you with them, as you have come to find.

The beads of sweat forming at your temples coupled with the messy hair and half-opened eyelids was enough to define you as fuckdrunk, that you were sure of. Even still, you steel your will enough to nod in his direction.

“Is that a yes?” he muses, fingertips finding your clit once again.

Proud bastard, you think. Smacking your lips, you utter a simple, ‘yes’. It’s barely a whisper and you think he doesn’t register it, but quickly find out his movements are much faster than your reflexes. Three fingers push themselves inside you, and a thumb finds your clit as he continues to stretch you to what seems like impossibility.

“Sing for me,” he sighs. “I want the spirits in these forests to awaken to the sounds of your pleasure.”

“I need you inside of me,” you mutter, mustering up enough strength to look at him again. “I want you inside of me.”

“Soon,” he assures, quickening his pace until you feel the familiar pressure pooling at your entrance. “I need you to let go first.” As though compelled to, your body releases, all manner of reason escaping you as your screams are carried by the wind of the woods. Legs trembling, you lose control of every limb as you pant, completely encased by a coating of fulfillment you thought long gone.

Halsin only watches you, whispering something your ears do not pick up. A faint buzzing interrupts all manner of sound as you relax your body until he’s able to catch you in his arms before you land on the ground. The firmness of his chest greets your cheek, where you are able to pick up his racing heartbeat.

“Are you spent for tonight?” he asks, hand sliding up your back until it reaches the back of your head.

Quickly, you shake your head. “No. I’m just… I didn’t expect this, is all,” you confess. He hums in approval, and positions you atop his thigh while still kneeling. Your leg bumps against his hardness and he hisses, praising the Oak Father’s blessings before turning to look at you.

“You’re pooling for me,” he smirks. “Had I known you were this eager, I would have done this long ago.”

In response, you begin grinding against the flexed muscle, grabbing hold of his bicep to steady your rhythm. It didn’t take long for the need to take hold, and you soon find yourself moaning as you continue moving against his thigh. You glance down to his cock, licking your lips at the sight of the dribble going down the shaft.

As though challenging him, he swiftly grabs hold of your waist, pushing you onto the cold ground with a soft thud. You lay there, blinking up at him. His hand caresses the curve of your body until it reaches your core. There, he spreads your lips apart, sighing approvingly when he hears the squelching sound of your desire for him. Using a finger to trace your cunt, he lifts it to his lips and begins licking away without breaking eye contact.

“So tender, so delicious…” he comments, sucking his own fingers until only his spit coats them.

You attempt to shimmy, feeling the stickiness of his cock meet your folds once you move closer to him. His head drops at the contact, a growl escaping his lips when he looks down.

“Can you take me, my heart?” he questions, grabbing his member and lining himself at your entrance.

You bite your lip, taking the moment to admire the beast of a man whose cock was prodding at your entrance—tapping with feather-light touches, enough to drive you to moan.

“Yes, please,” you beg again, searching for grace in his expression—the grace that would compel him to fuck you.

He pushes slowly, enough to give you the accommodation you know you will need. Once you feel him coating himself in you is when he finally moans—deeply—slamming a hand against the dirt to restrain himself. Halsin was thickest at the top, and his mushroom-like head felt as though it split through every fiber of your being even with caution. To say you were not expecting him to split you apart so early was an understatement, but when his hand finds your clit, your wincing turns into mewing as you attempt to swallow his every inch.

Taking the time to push and pull against his cock to the same rhythm of your breaths, you find that the druid has some trouble keeping calm.

“You are a tight little thing,” he chuckles. “Let me in. Open up for me.”

His instructions help you relax enough so he can guide his tip inside you. Once there, you let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of the sweat coating your body. The chills going up your spine are soon replaced by hot flashes once he hits a particularly delicious spot on your clit and you grab a hold of his wrist with both arms, keeping him where you most desire.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he moans. “While I rather appreciate the snugness of this predicament, I would like to bury my seed deep inside you.”

To this, you only groan. Halsin uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, keeping himself steadied as he positions himself fully on top of you. With one more look, he slides himself deeper, and you wince at the size that is piercing through your core. He growls, tightening his grip on your throat as he attempts to exert some control through sheer willpower alone.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when a second wave of pleasure coats your body, and you open your mouth to scream. No sound comes, but you feel yourself loosen up completely, giving Halsin the chance to push past until he is buried to the hilt.

The pain that you momentarily feel turns into bliss. You ride the orgasm, clutching onto his wrist as you pulsate on his cock, which only encourages him to push deeper—as though he could. Any further and he would surely be inside your guts. Every ridge, every vein, every curve on his member jabs at your insides, teasing every spot deep inside you—stretching and filling you until you may just burst.

He doesn’t dare move, not yet. He heaves, chest rising and falling as he waits for you to settle. You reach up, touching the fuzziness on his muscles, tracing your hand until it reaches the side of his face. He’s warmer than you know him to be, and you smile at him reassuringly when he gives you a questioning look.

He doesn’t continue.

Instead, you feel yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping as Halsin grabs a hold of you with one arm, positioning you so that you straddle his waist while the other rests against the curve of your ass, keeping you impaled on his cock. You find the prickliness of the tree hit your back and he settles you there before pulling out completely.

The loss of contact causes you to whimper. You look down, finding him slap his member against your folds, slowly pushing between the sensitive nerves, but not enough to enter.

The sound that escapes your lips is part frustration, part eagerness. The arm holding you up is firm, keeping you steadied with no effort whatsoever.

“You have no idea,” he sighs once he traps his tip between your folds. “How much I wish you rut into you. To fill you.”

“So do it,” you provoke, rolling your hips until you feel your entrance beginning to consume him. “I need you to cum inside of me.”

Halsin snarls and straightens you both, hitching you higher until he finds a comfortable spot. With one push, he settles inside you, slowly bouncing you—breasts jerking in tandem with his thrusts. You note his stare and fist his hair, pulling him forward until he captures a nipple into his mouth. Sucking away, you moan at the intensity building inside you for a third time.

Your clit feels sensitive, as though a bruise being rubbed continuously. The only reason your legs are managing to hold is because of his grip, otherwise you are certain they have gone numb. But Halsin shows no mercy, reddening the flesh with his love bites, creating a line until they reach your throat. You feel his fingertips digging into your skin, but whatever pain you will feel tomorrow is nothing in comparison to the euphoria that’s electrifying you. His thrusts become sloppy, hips hitting against yours as he mutters something incomprehensible.

“Take me,” he commands.

Two strokes.

“All of me.”

Three more strokes.

“By the Oak—”

He doesn’t finish his words. A gushing of hotness overwhelms your cunt, as thick, spurts of cum cover your insides. You feel it hitting your most sensitive parts, coating you until you feel the urge to also release. He slams a hand next to you when he stills, bursting with enough seed that you feel certain would plug you entirely. Glancing where his cock meets your core, you see some of it spill out, dropping on the mud between the druid’s legs.

Halsin leans forward until your foreheads touch once again, heaving from the exhaustion that surely has taken hold by now. You push against him, encouraging him to move and allow you room to land on your feet—or at least try to. With a wobble, you balance, spreading your legs until you’re certain you won’t topple over.

The looming figure in front of you suddenly lowers, and you watch him kneel between your legs, focusing intently on your stomach. He presses a kiss there, before saying, “This is good, but not exactly what I had in mind,” he taps against the softness. “I need to fill your belly until it swells completely, full of my cum.”

A shiver runs up your spine. With a finger, he reaches for your entrance, as though examining you. He tuts. “It seems I have my work cut out for me, little one,” he laughs. “Keeping you stuffed is what I intend to do for the rest of our nights together.”

#halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x tav #halsin x original female character #halsin x reader #plus sized tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my fics

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darklinsblog · 1 year

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Bring Me To Life| Sandman Imagine

Summary: Y/N is part of the Burgess family, somewhat of a black sheep, when she finds the prisoner her family has kept for 90 years, your father finds a way to dispose of his own daughter. Imprisoning her with The Dream Lord.

Pairing: Morpheus x Burguess! Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Will be updating my tag list so please comment if you want in on out of it!

You were always aware you were different from your family, they were always so shallow, empty, even.

Your father was nephew of the wealthy Roderick Burgess, and if Roderick was cruel and despicable, your father Maurice was much more worse.

For starters, he had way too many children, you were clearly the one in the middle, having many responsibilities that no child should have at your age, and even when you did everything you could to earn your father’s love and acceptance, you only got hatred in return.

He genuinely hated your guts.

His words, not yours.

But still someone a part of you was holding onto hope that maybe one day he would learn to love you.

While you waited for that day to come, you did your best to blend into the background, which for the record, wasn’t hard at all with six teens running around the house screaming all day long.

By your twenties you were a master of truly “minding your shit” as your father used to tell you, one particular day, everyone had gone hunting as the only female, it was easy to leave you behind.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bored out of your mind after a while, and then like a light switch, you remembered the house had a basement.

As any forgotten part of the house, you were told multiple times to leave it, to never even think of it, but at least the mysterious basement had to be more interesting than this empty mansion.

What you did not prepare for, was to find some… being trapped in a glass prison, he seemed like a man but something about him felt supernatural, extraordinary even.

His eyes followed even the slightest of your moves. As your fingertips merely crashed the cold surface of the glass, the eyes of the “man” opened wider, a distorted reflection of your father’s knowing figure, holding s large object, but before you could turn to face him.

All was suddenly black after a sharp pain hit the back of your neck and a buzz on your ears.

As you regained consciousness, your senses buzzed, everything somehow felt colder, lonelier, wrong…

When turning your head, you noticed the being you were staring at on the other side of the glass; only this time, he was right beside you.

Completely startled you backed away, until you met the cold surface of the bubble you were now trapped in.

You noticed more now the nakedness of the man (that is to refer to him because quite frankly, he was anything but human), which made your cheeks turn red and more than ever you appreciated your own clothes.

Tears were streaming down your face quietly and you wiped them away as soon as the left your eyes, embarrassed for this stranger to see you at your very worst.

“Morpheus”.

A voice inside your head spoke calmly but loudly, you turned to see the man beside you, empathy could be seen in his features, his hand softly grazing yours.

It had been so long since he last touched anyone, your skin felt soft and warm to the touch, it was something that now his heart longed for.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe the despair of being trapped here for God knows how long, the confusion and anger that came as to why you were here or the overall sadness.

Whatever it might’ve been, you found yourself embracing Morpheus softly by the neck, hiding your face as you sobbed lightly.

The Dream Lord was startled at first, but delicately his hands found a place in your back and to your waist he was letting you have complete control over this moment, he did not wish to touch you in any way that would make you uncomfortable.

He let you hold onto him as long and as hard as you needed to, but he knew his role there was only to contain your sadness until it went away.

“It is nice to know you, Morpheus” you whispered in his ear after a long period of sadness.

Ten long years had passed since you were trapped in the bubble prison with Morpheus, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a particular affection towards each other as well as a complex non-spoken communication between the two, he would let his voice echo your mind every now and then, but mostly, by simply looking at each other it was enough to know it all.

It hurt to think that nobody was looking for you, but then again, you would not be surprised by this, yet, a naive part of you thought maybe they were looking. Truth be told, if they were, they would’ve found you by now. After all, you were still in the same damn house.

But today something happened, Alex Burgess, your uncle, had gone down to see you two, it had been years since you saw him, but he was indeed, fragile and old, almost at the end of his days.

His eyes fell on you, you could see the sense of recognition in his gaze but quickly his eyes diverted to the King of dreams, completely disregarding your presence.

You held onto Morpheus’ arm trying to hold back on your anger as Alex Burgess went on his monologue to the King of Dreams about how he had done wrong in not wanting to be free all those years ago.

But you understood his motives as to why he didn’t chose freedom, his companion deserved that the perpetrators of her cold blooded murder paid the price.

Truth be told, it also did rub the wrong way to Morpheus how your own blood ignored you, after spending a decade by your side, he had gotten to know your very essence and in full honesty, you deserved something better than the rotten tree you were born in.

But something happened, as Alex turned his wheels to leave, the restraining runes were slightly wiped off.

You both looked at one another, acknowledging the window of opportunity you were given by the neglect of Alex.

For the first time in a decade you recognized in the eyes of the other, the almost foreign sentiment of hope, you step aside, letting Morpheus concentrate as you understood the only one who could set you free now was him.

Everything to you, seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the cracks, the breaking, the shots fired and as Morpheus conjured some sort of vortex, he stretched out his hand for you to reach.

Going with him, was tempting, but you knew now as you stood in front of him, your journeys were very different, he had a kingdom to restore while you had to figure your own identity outside of the Burgess last name, to find if, you had any other living relatives, to find answers to all your questions.

You smiled at him, in a way which he understood it all.

“There will always be a place for you in the Dreaming Y/N Burgess” he finally spoke, after all those ages of silence, it wasn’t just a voice echoing in your brain, it was real.

You nodded, at the very edge of tears, the mixture of relief and nostalgia for this chapter of your life ending becoming all so overwhelming.

“I’ll come and find you, King of Dreams” you promised to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile.

“Till we meet again” he said taking your hand and planting a subtle kiss on it before going back to his world.

Leaving you be in yours.

But even as the chapter of your imprisonment came to and end, you knew, deep in your heart, your story with the myth in the flesh, was far from over.

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @vvsdreaming @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca

#the sandman comics #sandman imagine #sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus dream #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman shitpost #sandman dream #sandman x y/n #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #lord morpheus #lord morpheus x reader

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adelrambles · 9 months

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Tips on Writing Bishop

I've been asked a couple times for advice on how to write a good (03-style) Bishop, and I'm well-aware he can be a bit tough to get a grasp on. As someone who's studied him specifically to learn how to write him as accurately as possible, I figured I'd compile some thoughts in case it'd be helpful to anyone else. I know a lot of Rise takes on him are basing off the 03 version, so maybe this could help generate ideas, too. SO!

Big Overall Points!

At the core of EVERYTHING Bishop does are two primary motivations. The first: the protection of the earth. What this means to him can get tricky, because it doesn't necessarily mean protecting the people, at least not all of them. But it will be better understood alongside the other:

The second: The protection of his sense of safety. Bishop has been deeply traumatized, and everything he does is born of a want to avoid that pain ever again. In his mind, earth is a safe area, a controllable factor, and anything outside it is a danger that must be eliminated. This is why he will still be willing to put himself and other people on the line in service of this; any sacrifice is worth the greater goal. (It's worth noting, Bishop will claim the first as his motivation freely, but is likely not consciously aware of the second.)

Bishop deals in Big Picture ONLY. Another reason Bishop will willingly throw away anything, including the lives of the people he claims to protect, is that he seems incapable of understanding things on a small, individual basis.

Bishop is a cold personality. He does not have strong displays of emotion. He does emote, but for the most part it's muted, so I recommend using emotional bursts very sparingly. (In my own writing, as an example, I try to limit my use of exclamation marks in his dialogue as much as possible.)

At his core, Bishop is afraid, and his response to fear is aggression. This also makes it particularly difficult to talk him down, if he's put in an emotional state. His response to not being in control is often violent retaliation.

With those basic tenants understood, let's move next to some major personality traits:

Bishop is a controlling personality. This is a direct result of his trauma response. Things that can be controlled are safe, therefore he must control everything. If something cannot be controlled, it's a threat that must be eliminated. If he doesn't know why something happened, he becomes angry (including even when it benefits him.)

Bishop is very low-empathy. When writing him, I try to keep in mind that he cannot put himself in the perspective of others. (Or if he can, he doesn't care to.)

Bishop is a sadist. He gets personal enjoyment from hurting others.

Bishop likes fighting, but only when he's winning. He will quickly leave if he can't see a guaranteed victory.

Bishop is paranoid. This is probably self-evident, but it's the reason he's often so well-prepared even when things don't go to plan.

Bishop genuinely seems to enjoy science. He's shown to be far more lenient with scientist characters than anyone else, and he seems to involve himself in his scientists' projects to a degree. Enough to, at the very least, understand their work. (Given he was the one set to dissect the turtles, it might also be argued he has some medical or biology background, himself.)

Bishop is an opportunist and scavenger. He can roll with failures as long as he can find something to get out of it. If he's presented with an opportunity to stab someone in the back, and he has something to gain? He'll take it without a second thought.

Bishop is deeply self-blind. For all his perceptiveness and strategic prowess, Bishop is not very self-aware in the slightest. He is completely blind to his own hypocrisies, and thoroughly confident in his own righteousness.

Bishop adapts fast. He accepts situations for what they are and acts (Though he may still be angry about them, or what have you.) This is likely a skill developed via longevity; the world around him has changed rapidly, but he doesn't feel out of place at all.

Bishop will take extreme risks and thinks wildly outside the box. Also self-evident, if you're familiar with the plans he enacts throughout the show. He'll put a lot on the line if he thinks the reward is worth enough, and he's willing to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants, even if his plans would be considered crazy by normal standards.

Bishop is persistent. If he wants something, he won't stop until he gets it. If he fails, he'll retreat, make a new plan, and try again. It is very difficult to convince him to back down (and certainly not on moral grounds.)

Habits and triggers I've noted:

Being restrained of any sort puts Bishop in a panic. He is more likely to have an emotional response in these scenarios, and seems to have (an albeit muted) desperation to escape. (See: Leatherhead restraining him in the first encounter; His reaction to being trapped on the surgical table in Head of State.)

When being duplicitous or suppressing a reaction, Bishop will go to adjust his tie. This could possibly be considered his tell.

Bishop seems to have a particular fear of aliens blending in as humans. His slayer project was built around the assumption that this is a common threat. (Worth noting: This makes The Shredder the model of the exact threat Bishop is afraid of. Technically, Bishop himself may also fit the description of a threat shaped like a human.)

Writing considerations:

In 03's narrative, Bishop is EPF and EPF is Bishop. Narratively speaking, any organization Bishop is head of acts as if it is an extension of his will and character.

Bishop is shown to strike fear and/or discomfort into most characters he interacts with. Anything beyond this is an outlier, and will draw a reader's attention.

Dialogue-wise, Bishop is generally succinct and blunt. He does dabble in gloating, though, and especially likes to upset others. If he's given a chance to be mean, he'll usually take it. It can help to consider he has a Mission Mode and a Normal Mode. When it comes to Mission Mode, he gets straight to the point and hates unnecessary talking. Otherwise, he's still not very talkative, but will take the time to make pointed jabs or talk through a plan. A lot of his sense of humor seems to be rooted in how He's Better Than You (And You're Going To Die Painfully.)

It's a common pitfall that Bishop is depicted as seeking out the turtles. In 03, once he gets their DNA, he's done with them. Any encounters after that are incidental. Bishop does not care about anything that won't effect his greater goal. If he's targeting another character, it should have to do with a greater plan.

Bishop is an extremely competent combatant, shown to be able to handle up to 7 opponents at once. For a breakdown on his fighting style check out my other post on that!

Bishop is hard to kill, and oftentimes he accidentally contributes to his own defeat. (The hook from Bishop's Gambit is an example I get a LOT of mileage out of, as a perfect symbol of his self-defeating prophecies.)

We almost only ever see Bishop in the context of his work. While it could be construed that he depersonalizes himself, it's much more clear that the narrative depersonalizes him. As far as we, the audience know, Bishop's work is all that he is.

It's unclear if Bishop was released from his abduction or escaped. Depending on which you ascribe to, this can have ramifications for his mindset on how to deal with the alien threat. (Personally, because so much of his inability to cope hinges on a feeling of helplessness, I believe he was released. If he escaped on his own power, that undercuts it, somewhat.)

Thematically-speaking, Bishop parallels both his own torturers and his own victims at the same time. He has perpetuated the cycle that traumatized him in the first place by trying to fight fire with fire. (In that vein, I don't think he's capable of understanding that, not seeing aliens as people in the first place, just dangers. Considering how deeply ingrained his trauma is in his worldview and actions, it would probably ruin him, if he were ever able to actually grasp it.)

Bishop and EPF are likely a commentary on the military of the time 03 was coming out. This can be something worth keeping in mind, when figuring out his greater themes in your story, though it can just as well be discarded if it doesn't fit.

Adding to that, Bishop has an extensive american military background. His skills and knowledge will reflect that.

Bishop also plays on and references a number of real-life alien conspiracies. It can be worth digging through conspiracy history to drum up ideas and themes, too.

The ethical and philosophical quandaries of Bishop's body-hopping and humanity tend to not hold too much weight, because Bishop, himself, doesn't seem to care.

If I think of more I'll certainly be adding on to the reblogs of this post! Or, if you have more thoughts, please feel free to add! If you're in the mood for more Bishop ramblings, that's practically most of this blog atm, but this post is a particular favorite. If you're interested in Fast Forward!Bishop, specifically, consider this post! (also read Taking Pawns. slipped in that self-promo, nice.)

#agent bishop #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #And man I still gotta make an analysis on 2012 Bishop #my man is so underrated #There are only a handful of fics out there that include him at ALL and for the most part I find he's blended with 03's characterization #Which takes away what makes him fun in his own right and muddies 03 Bishop's character basis imo #anyway I had this post on the backburner for a while and finally got the motivation to finish her up #And of course if ever there are more questions on characterizing him I'd be happy to help! I love rambling about this guy ad nauseum #oooh stray thought I should do one for Rat King too. Went through that guy's episodes recently theyre GREAT #I've also been very tempted to compile most of these posts into a big ol video essay. idk if I could pull it off but it sure is an idea

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pinkeoni · 1 year

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This moment keeps me up at night—

because it doesn’t align with what we’re being told the entire season.

The point that they tell us explicitly in the dialogue in season one is that Joyce was right about everything.

She wasn’t hallucinating, she wasn’t out of her mind, she was right.

So then, if Joyce was right about everything, if she wasn’t just hallucinating Will in a bout of hysteria, why then choose to show us a clear example where she is hallucinating Will?

Unless she wasn’t.

I will admit that there is a chance that this is just a dream or a hallucination. Joyce is very sleep deprived and was just told that her son had died. I wouldn’t put it past her to have dream visions of her newly dead son. The scene is also presented as if this is the case, with Joyce shown sleeping before seeing Will and then sharply waking up after the fact.

So okay, case closed, maybe it’s looking like this really is just a dream situation after all 😂 but I wanna just entertain the harmless idea that maybe the audience is being mislead with the dream allegations.

So the scene above actually happens right after we get the first confirmation that Will is still alive, when El is able to find him singing over the radio.

So we learn that Will is still alive at the top of the episode, the title sequence plays, and then we get a scene where Will appears right in front of Joyce. The sequence of events should be enough to at least raise an eyebrow.

At the end of the episode, Joyce recieves the verification for herself when Will is able to make contact with her. I want to point out that Will is able to do so while screaming for his mom, exactly the same thing that “dream” Will was doing.

So what do I think? That Will was actually physically in the Rightside Up? That he some how got through and then decided to go back in?

Well, no, not exactly, but he could have been doing some form of shadow walking— or his consciousness travelling to the other plane.

Of course since I’m a Will has powers truther I think that his powers are at play here. Shadow walking is brought up by Dustin in the subsequent episode—

And we see this very type of thing in season two with Will’s true sight.

Was Will just seeing into the Upside Down? Or was there a projection of himself that was physically in the UD? I’m going to say in the latter option, considering that the Mind Flayer was able to physically enter Will’s body during one of these true sight episodes.

Bringing it back to the scene at the very beginning of the post, I’d like to propose that this is what Will was doing, using his powers to shadow walk into the RU from the UD.

I don’t think Will waa be aware that he was using his powers. He was thrown into a high stakes situation, scared, and desperately wanted to get back to his mom and his powers were running amuck without him consciously knowing. This instance of him shadow walking to reach his mom is similar to what happens with the lights, his powers are activating as a way to reach his mom. It’s also implicated through dialogue that the thing with the lights is because of Will.

It would make total sense for his powers to activate in this way, even if he wasn’t conscious it was powers, based on how we know powers work in the show. It’s when El remembers the strong love that her mother feels for her that she is able to unlock her ability to open gates, a unique power that El herself probably didn’t even know she had.

So all of this being said, while made to be believable that Joyce was just dreaming, there’s still enough evidence to suggest that this image of Will was a manifestation of his powers.

Think about it this way, if you wanted Will having powers to be a twist, then you would want to write it in a way where the hints are all there, but there’s enough room to believe that the opposite is also true, so you aren’t playing all of your cards all at once. If Joyce was undoubtedly awake and seeing a vision of Will, that would be way too obvious right off the bat.

#will byers #will byers has powers #el hopper #terry ives #joyce byers #stranger things #stranger things theory #my theory #byler #<- target audience

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ilyuu-archive · 1 year

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self aware. (voicelines.)

a consciousness not coded nor ciphered into his system; it is nothing less of a blessing if it means bearing witness to you.(or him listening to how you react to their voicelines.)

ft. : diluc, kaeya, scaramouche & xiao.

warnings : religious themes, obsessive behavior, suggestive (scaramouche), you as a simp (diluc snd xiao), lmk if i missed anything!

a/n : anddd a ty to @mondaymelon for the inspiration!! <3 ily melon mwah,,

diluc.

frost melts as the clouds part, a small shaft of sunlight a first step of a clear, cut day. the touch the cold held onto him fades to the presence of aureate warmth, soaking him in its familiar light.

“listen, as long as you stick to your own path, it doesn't matter what mother nature throws at you.”

“it does matter because i’m not trying to die to frostbite, master diluc.”

he hears your voice from somewhere - where? he doesn’t know and, rather, he doesn’t exactly mind not knowing. he’s blessed either way. …though he prefers not to be the reason of your slight of irritation.

“look, you’re half hp already. i can’t live without you. …i-i mean, literally, i can’t live without you since i main yo— does that make sense?”

oh.

he feels himself flush a bit. so that’s where the flower of irritation came from, bloomed from a seed of concern and… adoration, perhaps? maybe he’s thinking of himself a bit too highly in that aspect.

but let such a dream, so far out of reach, yet within his grasp, drift within his very being. it’s already enough that he’s the object of your attention (as of now, he thinks, and it sets an uneasy feeling in his chest) and that he’s doted on with your presence alone.

oh, truly has he been blessed with dreams.

kaeya.

the city of romance, wine, and, of course, wind, continues to course, akin to the windmills that never ceases to flow - it’s familiar. a home away from ho—

“i didn't know you were such a slacker.”

silence.

“…seriously? in front of the alchemy table?” a smile all too easily touches his lips. he’s fortunate enough that you’re still on the menu, lest you’ll see him break (code) character. “i only stopped moving for like, a good 10 seconds!”

god, you’re so cute.

he wonders what’s stopping him from talking to you, really, just to pull out a few more of those reactions of yours. he can’t see you, which is practically a sin in and of itself, but the way your voice peaks, dips, or drops and rises in tone is enough for him to forgive such a misgiving.

(in that way, he can at least imagine the look on your face.)

so he’ll do anything for your eyes to stay on him, even if it means saying his lines on loop every oh so frequently.

that just means you’re thinking about him for one more moment longer, no?

scaramouche.

ivy slithers; blossoms in bloom; dewdrops in the air as dawn dips on the dot of the horizon. for a moment’s rest, an idle thought - and yet,

“there's no such thing as pure freedom in this world. even the wind cannot blow on forever.”

“there’s something else i can blow o— wait.” you cut yourself off. he doesn’t see you (as unfortunate as that is) but he feels as though you are at least slightly embarrassed.

“…i did not just say that.”

…ridiculous. really.

that’s what he thought, yes, and yet, the heat on his cheeks tells another story. it took every fiber of himself to not tip his hat to try and cover his face.

even after these few months, he still hasn’t adjusted to your… remarks, and that’s putting it very lightly. you’re practically talking to a screen, don’t you realize that? at some point you must’ve realized that. honestly.

so he says.

but, please, do keep talking (to him and him alone, of course.) only he can hear your voice - the lilts, dips, all the melodious shifts in volume - so that he can feel close and closer to you.; t’s the one and only think that makes him feel as though you’re near.

even when you’re a screen and a reality away.

xiao.

a teardrop of rain. another. and another. until it started a downpour - unrelenting, pelting. a darkness descended upon the skies that sets in a sense of unease.

“many mortals fear lightning... incomprehensible. fear of something so common.”

“stand right outside while it happens and see how loud it is, i dare you.” he slightly shivers at the tone of your voice. if he had the choice to, he would’ve kept his words to himself - alas, it is only the series of codes.

in spite of that, he feels the rain. he feels its biting touch, seeping into him, and the cold that coats him. he feels the world underneath him with every thrum of thunder, the lightning scorching patches of land that seldom felt familiar as of late.

not you though. only the sound, so strider, as it echoes within the screen.

“AAA—”

he flinches. his eyes darts to and fro, as much as he can, to at least see a source of what caused such a reaction out of nowhere. but there’s nothing.

“xiao, xiao, i didn’t mean that, i take it back, please.”

oh. so you were referring to him.

the wintry touch of the rain isn’t enough to try and cool the warmth that simmered in his skin, and he finds himself wondering how he found himself under the eyes of a god, you, that held such care and fondness for him.

then again, it’s not as though he hadn’t held any reverence to them, so perhaps the feelings are… balanced. mutual.

that’d be a bit selfish of him to assume. but it’s not as though you know, of course. these selfish, tactless feelings are for him and him alone to keep and know - not even someone like you would pry it out of him, despite it being for you.

general taglist (open!) : @yzeniko, @starz222, @haliyamori, @taokives, @tartaglia-apologist.

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bluerockcandy · 7 months

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Ok but like picture this:

CW is the personification of time, hes a time god, so while he can stop time, speed up, slow down, he isnt always consciously aware of the speed of time. BUT, lets think of time as a part of him. So, when he likes people, wants them to succeed, even peripherally, time seems to be in their favor.

People often say oh time flies when you’re having fun and drags when you’re not. What if this were actually true. CW isnt always focusing on the people he likes, but time is him so it also favors these people. They will always just make it to class right before the bell or save someone just in time, an attack will be a second too slow.

For danny, however, CW is basically a grandfather. CW loves danny. So time is like an eager puppy that wants to please him. If hes having fun with his friends and thinks, i wish it could always be like this, time fucking dilates for him, it really does go slower. When hes bored time speeds up just a little bit.

That was a long ass lead up to my fic idea but anywayss. Imagine danny gets old, time passes, but not really for him. Its probably a mix of being a ghost and CW being his grandfather, but hes stopped aging at some point. He loses his sense of time. When its always stopping and starting and speeding along and slowing down, it tends to lose some of its meaning. So he lives and lives until one day he realizes the world has completely changed around him. He’s become something of a homebody, staying in his home for months at a time, imaging the stars, recording star maps, generally enjoying his life.

Theres a knock at the door. More of a thud, really, and when he goes to check it out, he finds a man- a man bat? -slumped against his door. He’s baffled. But the man- man bat? -is injured, so he brings him in.

He tries to take the armor off, before giving up it just phasing it off of the guy. Not all of it, he leaves the cowl over the top of the face and the underclothes stay put, he’s not disrespectful, thanks you very much. He does what he can to patch the guy up. Its much easier to do on someone else rather than himself. The man bat guy doesn’t seem to be badly injured, a broken ankle, a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, but what really seems to have taken him out is a bad concussion, he guesses, judging by the fat ugly knot on top of the dudes head.

It is no matter, he thinks, he will just have to stay here and recover. And so danny drifts off, to put some food aside for his unexpected guest and to get back to work.

He genuinely forgets about the guy until he hears a thump. Trying to sneak out, the man bat has fallen. Now, normally, theres no way in hell Batman would have fallen. But when he’s seeing in quadruple and his head pounds with every beat of his heart, he can probably forgive himself for this little mistake. Maybe.

Danny floats on up to him.

Wait

Y am i writing this all out lol. I was just gonna outline my idea and dip 😭.

Basically, he helps bats recover, but finds he really likes hanging out with him. So time comes into play and slows down, just for them. When bruce is finally healed and can reach out to someone, the world has changed again. Shit went down in gotham. The city has changed. He doesnt understand at first. Its not really wirher of their faults, but hes- he doesnt know how he feels, sad, mad, frustrated, at a loss. He feels it all, in great detail, and it weighs heavily on him. But well, hes made friends with danny in the years- years???!! - hes been with danny. He goes back. They make up and stay together til bruce succumbs to old age bc he isnt the same as danny. Nvr was and wasnt going to be but at least they could enjoy their time together. The end.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #clockwork #timey wimey shit #oops #this poor mans #i really just ruined his life #but it was true love #okay maybe not #but they do love each other #bruce x danny

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everythingmp3 · 6 months

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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

after having given into the pull you feel towards each other, both you and Tess are left to deal with all the intense emotions of possibly falling in love: the thrill, the joy, the courage it takes to fully open your hearts up. you spend a few days growing even closer, figuring out how to let go of all fear and embrace the bliss of having each other.

author’s note: (part 2 of this fic!). I’d definitely go read at least the description of part one before reading this one!originally I wasn’t gonna make it multiple parts but some really sweet feedback made me go back and this is basically an exploration of the early stage of falling in love, it delves much deeper into both of their feelings but there’s also some humor and lightness in there, Joel has a few appearances, it’s pretty long so there’s a lot in there. also again I never played the game, this is about Anna’s Tess! enjoy <3

warnings: minors dni. smut (reader receiving, oral), some discussions of heavier personal issues but nothing dark

wordcount: 13.7k

the next morning Tess woke up the same exact way she´d woken up all the mornings before in Jackson: right around 7:30, the sun casting the same shadows onto her floor, laying on the same side of the bed, but she felt completely different. usually she felt nothing that early in the day, but that morning as she came to her senses, the images of what had happened the night before, of you, immediately flooded her mind and left her in a state of blissful half-consciousness, a daydream that made her stay in bed a little longer.

at the same time Tess also felt a quiet sense of dread, knowing that she would have to be subtle about her feelings for you whenever others were around, and she was self aware enough to know that she was anything but subtle; once she let herself grow attached to someone, it went from indifference to obsession in no time, she was not one for “taking it slow”, she´d never been, but thankfully she had a feeling you weren´t either.

still, it had been a while since anyone had gotten through to her the way you had, since she´d let anyone close at all, so all of a sudden she remembered just how intense she was when she truly cared. part of it was a deep need to protect you, to make sure you felt safe because of her presence, even when she was not in the room with you, her standards for what she should be for those she loved were high, even more so with you than with anyone before and Tess realized very quickly how incapable she was of being casual about what happened, how unthinkable it was to just see where it would go without already feeling devoted to you.

when she thought back to how you had looked at her the night before, how you´d put your heart in her hands, trusting she´d know what to do with it, it almost made her lose her mind with the desire to go out there and find you and have you in her arms again, to feel your body relax into hers again, to give you the relief you so clearly needed and for some miraculous reason found in her presence. but of course it wasn´t all that noble, deep down there was also a simple visceral aspect to it, the vision of your body under hers was burned into her mind and no amount of self control could conceal the truth: that she wanted to get her hands on you again, desperately.

sitting at the edge of her bed that morning, it all came crashing over her, so after about ten minutes of staring into space she told herself to get a grip, got up, and splashed some cold water on her face before joining Joel for breakfast downstairs.

as she walked into the kitchen she could see Joel pouring two cups of coffee and she was glad he had his back turned, so she could brace herself for a second before talking. Tess sat down at the table and Joel wordlessly put the cup down before taking his place opposite her, leaning back and taking a sip as he regarded her with a knowing grin, “so... sleep well? any sweet dreams?” his voice lowered for emphasis on those last two words, she shot him a slightly stern look, “absolutely none I´d share with you” he knew she was one for overthinking so he was trying to get her to relax a little, make the mood lighthearted, “right, fair enough. but you do look.. I don´t know you usually look more tired at this hour, you have a certain glow”, she took a sip and watched him gesture at her, her eyes narrowed, “a glow? are you trying to be a poet, Miller?”, he kept looking at her, amused, “no I just mean-”, she finished his thought, “you mean the “this person finally got laid” glow? that one?”, not expecting that he laughed, “hey you said it not me” throwing his hands up theatrically.

she shook her head, finally cracking a smile too, “yeah I really don´t know what the fuck is happening to me Joel” she admitted, drumming her hands on the table, spaced out for a moment, he leaned forward to talk more seriously then, “well. it´s simple isn´t it”, she knew what he meant, “you like her”, she didn´t look at him but made a “hmm” sound of agreement, fidgeting with her hair.

Joel was almost endeared by seeing his jaded friend so uncharacteristically out of it, nothing made her nervous back in the QZ, ever, not gunfire, not a group of men that are were a few heads taller than her, not even while getting beaten up did she ever seem afraid, he could count on one hand the amount of times he´d seen her lose her cool, so watching her hard facade crumble because of a girl, it made him discover a side of her he hadn´t seen in all the years they´d known each other, and it was moving to him in a way, that of all things love would be the thing to force her to her knees, to render her defenseless.

“I think I should keep it to myself right? I mean we should be discreet about it?” he considered it, “I mean. I will say I have seen much stranger couples around town, truly some odd fuckin´pairs that make you two look boring as hell, but I won´t lie, it would probably take a little time for people to.. you know get it. what you two have”. she understood, that was what she´d thought, “yeah I think it might be smart to keep it private. even though I´d fucking hate for her to feel like I´m ashamed or something, that´s the last thing I am. I mean fuck, if anything I´d wanna brag”, he crossed his arms, shifting his posture, “can´t blame you, I think you could get some really priceless reactions out of the younger guys who tried their luck with her, when they realize that their biggest competition was some strange out of town woman”. Tess laughed then, feeling some tension leave her body, enjoying that age old feeling of not having to censor herself at all around him, “yeah. that would be pretty fucking entertaining.”. he downed the rest of his coffee and said one last thing on the issue, “whatever you decide in the end, just know, if anyone ever does give you two trouble, I´ll take care of it, alright? they won´t do it twice.” since they´d been in Jackson, Joel had turned into a more gentle, polite version of himself to blend in, that morning was the first time his old self came back to the surface, the first genuine threat of violence Tess had heard from him since they´d arrived, and it felt good, to know that he was still always on her side, always ready to jump to her defense, even when she was being reckless and getting into something that he easily could have judged her for.

“so, we´re starting on the attic today right?” Tess said as she got up and put away the cups, “yes, I think it needs a paint job, the windows are a little fucked, and some floorboards are loose, but other than that it should be pretty nice in no time”, since they´d arrived in Jackson a few weeks earlier they´d been planning on how to fix up their house, both of them eager to prove that they were capable of proper physical labor. “but it´s still early, there´s not rush, if you wanna.. you know get some air, walk around before being stuck up there” it was probably a good idea for her to clear her head, so she got her jacket and stepped out.

it was a foggy morning, she couldn´t even see all the way down the street as she slowly made her way towards the center of town. of course she knew there was a chance of running into you but she still felt a rush of adrenaline when she reached the outside of the dining hall and saw you sitting there on a bench by yourself, you didn´t see her as she came closer, so for a moment she just stood there, looking at you, reminding herself that the urge to embrace or kiss you would have to wait til later, telling herself to keep her instincts in check before briefly resting her hand on your shoulder to make you turn around. the moment you looked at her and smiled, Tess remembered just how little it took for you make her feel warm, even in the icy morning air, and you saw it, how glad she was to see you, for a moment it felt like an extended dream, like something you´d imagined, but it was real, her touch brief but the impact lingering on after.

“hey!” you said, your tone different than if anyone else had stood there, excitement in there that was not typical for you, shifting the way you were sitting to make space for her, “come, please, sit” she nodded, “so, how are you?” she asked, sitting down next to you, “better than ever actually, for some reason” you said, an ironic inflection, seeing the satisfied look on her face as she answered, “yeah, me too”, the town was still waking up and hardly anyone was around, so you allowed yourself to reach for her hand, her grip on you strong and reassuring, the warmth of her palm reminding you of where else on your body it had rested the night before a slight flush on your face as you practically beamed at each other in silence, a shared moment of knowing exactly what the other person was thinking, no words were needed to know that it included things like i wish i could kiss you right now, i thought about you before falling asleep and after waking up, i am a little nervous, i have no idea when i last felt like this, if i ever did, it was all there in the air between you, locking eyes was enough to communicate it.

once the moment passed you let go of her hand and leaned back, speaking first, “so, tell me, what are your plans today?”, while moving your leg so it would touch hers, two people sitting like that was not suspicious, it made you creative, the limitation of physical affection you could allow yourself in public, and admittedly part of it was hot, she grinned, feeling what you were doing “well, our house needs a little fixing up still, so I think we´ll be busy with that. and you?”, she kept her hands to herself but she was dying to reach out and caress your cheek, the way you were looking at her was killing her, all soft and open.“well” you gestured behind you “I´ll be in the kitchen all day. I´m on cooking duty”, “really? wow, didn´t figure you for a chef” she hadn´t pictured that as one of your jobs, “should I be offended by you sounding so surprised that I can cook?”, she laughed, “oh come on, you know what I mean, it´s hard to imagine the very limited resources in the QZ inspiring someone to learn how to cook”, she was right of course, after the outbreak the philosophy surrounding food was mostly be thankful for what you have, parents hardly bothered teaching kids elaborate culinary skills anymore, meals were a matter of survival, nothing more. “yeah I know, but I had my reasons to try my hand” she looked at you in a way that said “keep going”, “well, after my parents died and I started living with my friend her family I felt kind of self conscious about being there at times, so I guess becoming the family chef made me feel like I was useful” you smiled then, remembering something about that time, but she was hung up on the word useful, a little struck by a teenager thinking they could be considered useless by those taking care of them, it made her suspect your life with your parents hadn´t been all that easy either, it stung a bit, but she didn´t let it show.

“so you´re telling me you were what, 15, 16, using your free time to cook for your household? you really are some kind of angel huh. I was a fucking nightmare at that age”, remembering how people had considered you tough and intimidating was becoming increasingly absurd to her, but you shook your head, “oh don´t be too quick with that assessment, I also got in trouble quite a bit” that intrigued Tess, she leaned closer, her voice lower, that tone that always went straight to your core, “oh really? how so?”, you stared at her, enjoying the genuine interest, “school was tough, I often got detention, always ended up fighting with teachers. I guess I had an authority problem” you mused, leaned your head on your arm then, looking up at her, making it even harder for her to just sit there and not touch you the way she actually wanted.

that last part was funny to her, that you were clearly not a fan of strict rules or being told what to do, including what you´d told her about Jackson being too regulated for you, but then with her you seemed to want exactly that: being taken care of, being told what to do, and she loved the idea of being an exception, that her kind of power was the kind you wanted to submit to, not push back against, it almost humbled her in a sense.“yeah I can picture that, you being too clever for them and getting on their last nerve” a pause then, “but they never seriously hurt you, did they? because I heard some awful stories about the schools in my QZ” a sudden flicker of something dark in her eyes, it was hot to you, but you reassured her, “I mean nothing crazy no. but if they did, what then? would you go out there and find them?” you joked but she didn´t smile, “maybe” you nudged her, “that´s very sweet of you, really”, but you weren´t just amused, it was an unfamiliar feeling, to have someone be that invested in your safety, even considering things that had happened long ago. she loosened up again, still, her sense of protectiveness extended even to your past self, perhaps because she felt a little guilty, that she´d grown up normally and you had to go through a lot as a kid, but in some way it also made her respect you, that you clearly possessed the strength that was required to grow up into a person as beautiful as you were, during the end of the fucking world. she was convinced you were the better person out of the two of you, there was no doubt about it to her, Tess was prideful at times but you made her feel a sense of humility that she liked.

Tess could tell from the look in your eyes that you were were waiting for her to say something, anything, there was something pleading about it and for the second time she felt the urge to touch your face, only stopping her hand mid-air, which didn´t pass you by, you stared at her, still waiting for her to speak, she cleared her throat, “I know I put up a good front but just know it´s kind of killing me right now to sit here like we´re just friends”, you cocked your head, “we aren´t friends?” slightly teasing, she narrowed her eyes, “no. that´s not what I would call it”, a subtle grin on her face, you nodded, “if it makes you feel better I have been trying my best not to lean my head against your shoulder for the past few minutes, so...”, “don´t say that, jesus” she whispered, the image too endearing to her to be unaffected by it, you kept looking at her, not expecting the idea of a simple tender gesture like that to get to her, “yeah I should go I think this isn´t gonna end well if I stay any longer”, she sounded serious about it, and it did thrill you a little, for her to imply that you were irresistible to her. “okay. but um-” she looked at you expectantly, “yeah, what is it?” a sweetness to her tone that she never used with other people, “if you happen to take a break later, feel free to stop by in the kitchen, there´s a backdoor” you pointed to the wall at the back of the building “it´s open, I´ll be right down the hall” she nodded, charmed by your clear desire to see her again as soon as possible, which matched hers, “okay, I´ll see what I can do” briefly touching your hand before getting up, deepening the ache of not being able to hold onto her, looking back down to where you were sitting for a moment, not wanting to leave you yet, watching you bask in the light of her attention, shifting your posture to face her. for second she thought out loud, “god. you´re so pretty..” barely audible but you did hear it, “what was that?” you teased, clearly you had heard it, she shook her head, “okay I am leaving now, you take care sweetheart”.

the next few hours passed quickly, you washed the produce, you sharpened knives, you let some things that would take longer simmer on low heat while chopping others, you were lost in the motions and didn´t register time passing. there was something that you had kept from Tess, which was that the reason you were known around town as someone who worked hard, who was eager to help out with any job at any time, had very little to do with the goodness of your heart.

it was a welcome side effect that people perceived you as diligent and reliable but the reason you took on as much work as you did was simple: it was the only reliable coping skill you had. in other environments your depressive moods and darker states of mind would have driven you to different methods of numbing yourself, but there was no secret drug scene in Jackson, the one available substance was alcohol and you were not one to drink on your own, there was no tv or other mindless entertainment to turn to, not even healthier ways of clearing your head like taking hour long walks, so the one thing you go sucked into was working yourself to a point of exhaustion, to a point where no thoughts could form anymore. the years in Jackson had been marked by various periods of deep despair, loneliness, and hopelessness, so to escape time, to escape your mind, you got into the habit of doing whatever you could to be occupied as much as possible: chopping wood for fireplaces, cleaning out the stables, sweeping the streets, helping people around their homes and in their gardens, cooking, anything, oftentimes doing so much in one day and forgetting food and drinking to a point of almost passing out on your doorstep multiple times at night.

people didn´t notice, you were good at stoically handling the pain, but it had worn you down, and even meeting Tess, being so flooded with joy, it didn´t magically kill the instinct to overextend yourself. usually people worked in shifts in the kitchen but you always told them you liked handling both lunch and dinner and to do it on your own, they bought the lie that it was relaxing to you, and some parts of it were, but you knew you´d have to stop overdoing it or eventually something ugly would happen. still, meeting Tess in the morning had left you in a better state of mind than any of the days before, that morning and early afternoon you were constantly zoned out thinking back to all the things she´d said, all the glances she´d given you, the details filling your body with a constant buzz, a lovestruck expression on your face that nobody was around to witness.

around 2 pm Tess suggested to Joel that they should take a break and told him she´d be back in half an hour. the noises of the kitchen concealed any noise you could have picked up on as Tess walked down the hall that you´d mentioned earlier, so she saw you before you saw her as she stopped in the door frame for a moment, just watching you chop something faster and more skillfully than she ever could; other people got butterflies when they saw their lover with kids, Tess suddenly felt it as she saw you handling a potential weapon with such ease.

she knocked to announce herself and you turned and waved her over, “oh thank god, you came!”, the enthusiasm was endearing to her, she slowly walked over to where you were standing, leaning back against a counter next to you, that painfully attractive she always had, “that´s a nice thing to hear walking into a room”, she smiled at you, taking in the sight of your face all flushed from the humid heat of the kitchen, your hair a little messed up, her knuckles straining with the suppressed need to pull you close. your gaze fell to a few streaks of white paint on her jeans that hadn´t been there earlier, you pointed at them, “so, how is that going, hm?” eyeing her, tilting your head, “not too bad, I have a lovely constant background noise of an old man complaining about his knees” she joked dryly, you laughed, “okay I see. well, I wouldn´t complain if I was in his place, getting to watch you do all that” your voice a little sultry then, she liked that you kept flirting with her even though you already clearly had her, “is that so?”, you nodded, “but I wouldn´t be much help I´m afraid, I don´t know shit about renovating”, “oh that´s fine, you could just sit there and look pretty for me”, she said, purposely drawing the words out in a low suggestive tone, watching your expression change, staring into your soul, enjoying the feeling of seeing your expression change.

you were less timid than her, more willing to take a risk in that moment, so you dropped your knife and stepped over to where she was standing, your hands finding the sides of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine from the unexpected touch, before leaning in and kissing her the way you´d wanted to that morning, feeling her grab your face hard as she leaned into it with quite some force, both of you clearly having missed the other one even though you´d seen each other mere hours before, there was an immediate neediness to the kiss, you were making up for what you couldn´t do before kissing each other over and over, your lips turning a darker shades of red, swelling a little, her fingers in your hair, getting soft sighs out of you that drove her to deepen the kiss, just for a moment, just to hear something a little closer to a moan, she was being reckless and she knew it, but she couldn´t stop herself, and you were too wrapped up in it to deny her, chest to chest with her but still pressing yourself against her harder, until you both needed air and separated, throwing a glance to the door to make sure nobody was there, but you were alone still.

you stepped back, straightening out your clothes and smiling with your gaze cast to the floor, hers on your side profile as she wiped her mouth, trying to breathe and get her heartbeat to a normal state again, “I think I should abandon all this, so I can go back to your place with you, right?” she laughed, “absolutely yes.”, wishing it wasn´t just a joke. “oh by the way” you continued, more earnest then, still a little dizzy from the kiss, “I didn´t mention this earlier but if there´s anything you like to eat, tell me, and I´ll do it next time”, she nodded, “okay that´s sweet of you, I´ll think of something, but how about you don´t prepare it for everyone in town, do it for me at home instead” you grinned, realizing that she didn´t like the idea of everyone else being part of your gesture of affection, “you don´t like sharing, do you?” you weren´t talking about the food, her answer wasn´t about that either, she nodded, grinning “yeah, that´s right” her arms crossed, “alright. I´ll save my best meal for you and you alone, how about that?” you said, which was an easy way to win her over: playing into her possessiveness. “perfect. and I´ll find a way to repay you of course”, a suggestiveness to the words, “I´m sure you will” you said, leaning back, smiling. Tess realized you two should probably plan when to really see each other again, not just in passing, “I suppose you´ll be pretty tired from all this tonight, so how about you get a good night sleep later and then tomorrow you can come over in the evening and we can do.. well whatever we want really. I´ll kick my roommate out” that got a laugh out of you, “alright, yes, sounds good to me”.

part of you wanted to protest, to suggest that you should come over later that night but you knew you would probably be better company once you were energized again. Tess moved to leave and you exchanged quick goodbyes before you turned around to continue your work, but before she could exit the door she looked back at you, and couldn´t go just yet. you stood with your back turned to her, and it was too tempting, so she walked back over, stopping once she stood right behind you.

you felt her presence intensely but didn´t turn around, waiting to see what she was doing, a second later you felt her arms wrapping around you from behind, just below your waist, to gently pull you back against her front side, and the moment she did that she saw you putting down the knife and rest your palms flat against the counter, for some reason she knew your eyes were closed even though she couldn´t see it. she leaned close enough to your neck to leave a light kiss, your breath heavy by then, “see you tomorrow sweet girl” she whispered, counting on the fact that she´d just given you a glimpse of what to look forward to, which had worked of course, it took everything in you not to turn around and beg her to stay but you forced yourself let the feeling crash over you, to take it without breaking, so you let her hold you for a few more moments, trying desperately to soak the warmth of her hands up, before she let you go and vanished.

walking back home, the joy Tess felt reminded her of how she often had complicated feelings about joy after the outbreak. for a long time she´d been tormented with nightmares about loved ones she´d lost, nightmares about them calling her unworthy of her survival, calling her selfish for moving on, for not being destroyed by grief, for trying to build something new for herself; she´d often woken up in a cold sweat feeling horrible about herself and ironically enough it often happened after she´d had a particularly good day. the thing was, that as she got older she realized that despite all the pain, she´d been afforded a freedom that she wouldn´t have had in her previous life. at first she felt awful for even thinking about it, but it was the truth, before she´d have grown old as a mother and wife, she´d have had very clear positions as a woman, duties to fulfill whether she felt like it or not, but somehow it had all turned out differently; there she was, after getting over the worst of it all with nobody to answer to, no spouse, no child, not even an employer, she was free to be whatever she wanted to be, and it wasn´t lost on her that that was in its own strange way a lucky position to be in.

for a long time she´d let it get to her, the fear that she might be a horrible person for rejoicing in a freedom that was connected to a horrible loss, but that day when she walked back after having met you, none of the guilt was there, the joy she felt was light and untainted, it was solid and calm

Tess knew it was your impact in large parts that had taken away that heaviness, the way you looked at her made it much harder to see herself in a bad light, the fact someone like you, who rarely trusted anyone with their weaker side, was so ready to let her in, to accept her care, it made Tess feel like she had a purpose, like the impact she would leave on the world might not just be one of violence. during the years of Joel and her fighting their way through weeks and months lost in a haze of shared pain and rage, she´d given up on the idea of ever feeling like a good person, or even just a decent one, but when she held you, when she felt you leaning in to kiss her, when she sensed your ease around her, knowing how reluctant you usually were to get close to others, she felt like there was a goodness in her that had remained in tact, that you were drawing out of the depths of her because you needed it.

Tess realized that sometimes self contempt did not matter, if someone saw something worth loving in her, who was she to tell them their perception was off?

while she was thinking all that, you were having a moment of reflection yourself. once she left the kitchen you just stood there the way you´d stood before, bracing yourself against the counter, breathing a little unevenly, and for a good few minutes you didn´t continue your work because your mind was racing, your body was on fire, and you had to calm down somehow.

at first you couldn´t identify what it was, but then you realized: your body had no idea how to handle intense joy, intense feelings of love and affection for someone, how to handle desire and ecstatic feelings of want, none of it, because you had never felt it before, it was like a new chemical had entered your system and an alarm was going off. of course you´d had moments of relaxation or contentment before, you´d had good days and you´d laughed and gathered sweet memories at times, but it had been years and years since you´d felt genuine joy, the kind that alters your whole physicality, your whole being. for so long you had lived in a state of constant numbness, you felt like a ghost at times, you were tethered to nothing, no family, no friends, no lover, not even a hometown or material possessions that made you feel grounded, nothing had really mattered to you, you floated from place to place, in Jackson you faded into the background, stopped engaging socially, spent nights on your own, days distracted by work, and then, all of a sudden, a rupture. Tess came and you were stunned into a state of openness, it felt like your body was coming out of hiding, like every part of you was hungry to feel, to feel everything, every little detail of what her presence could evoke in you, but it was not without pain at first, that process of letting yourself be alive again.

there was a fear in you and as you stood there thinking you knew why: for the first time in your life you had something to lose.

you´d gotten used to indifference so now that you felt so deeply for Tess, you almost panicked imagining a potential future without her, the worst case scenario played out in your head, her and Joel getting bored and leaving, her being gone one day, because now that you´d gotten a taste of love, you knew going back to living without it would eviscerate you.

there was no going back and you had to understand that the fear was a positive kind, that part of caring was risking your heart, the risk of immeasurable loss, which was worth it, always, in order to experience immeasurable love. after a while you calmed down, focusing on the spot where Tess´s hand had lingered mere moments before, banishing anxious thoughts and letting your mind flood with the memory of her body behind yours, her scent, her lips, and it worked, your cheeks flushed and you felt your muscles relax again.

by the time you were done cleaning up at night everyone else had left the building already and it was dark out. your limbs were aching as you walked outside and realized that it was pouring rain. for a moment you just stood there, letting the cool water soothe your exhausted body, not caring about your hair or clothes getting wet. once you walked down the road, it dawned on you that nothing seemed worse to you in that moment than going home to an empty, cold, dark house, nobody waiting for you, nobody to ask you if you´re fine, and you tried to fight the instinct, you did, but you knew where you were headed when you started walking faster. the plan had been to go to Tess the next night, to go there refreshed and in a more appealing state, but you had a visceral need to just see her, to be with her even if it would just be ten minutes, you were broken down in a way, the weeks before you´d overdone it, and the one thing you could think of that might make you feel steadier, less at risk of falling apart, was Tess´s strength, her way of touching you that infused you with calm, with warmth.

you made your way up to Tess and Joel´s door and tried your best to not feel ashamed as you knocked, ringing the bell seemed a little rude at that hour, hoping and praying it wouldn´t be him who answered the door, and it wasn´t; shortly after you knocked, Tess opened the door, somehow less surprised to see you than you thought, wearing an oversized black sweater that suited her, her light eyes shining brighter with the contrast, and the sight of her alone could have made you cry for some reason, the gentle smile as she leaned against the door frame and said “well hello there”.

you immediately tried to apologize for your unannounced appearance, uttering something like “sorry I know it´s late and we said tomorrow but -” but before you could finish the sentence she shook her head and waved you in, “don´t apologize, you can come by whenever you feel like it, alright?” she wanted nothing less than for you to feel hesitant around her, you nodded, feeling a little relieved as you walked in.

once you were inside and the light hit you, she saw something that others might not have picked up on because you did conceal it somewhat well, but not well enough for Tess; she could read in the way you were holding your body, the way your eyes looked that there was a fragility to you in that moment and it made her feel violently protective but she kept it in check, not smothering you with it, not yet.

for a moment you were just standing there, unsure what to do, waiting for her to tell you, but before doing anything else she went in to embrace you, a proper hello, the kind she had denied herself that morning, her arms firm around your back, yours around her waist, your head resting on her shoulder for a moment, breathing in her fresh scent, you could tell that she´d just showered and it felt so good that you almost turned it into a desperate tight hug, the kind where you cling to someone, where it´s blatantly obvious how much you really need their comfort, but you restrained yourself, melting into her for a few seconds, feeling her hands lightly run over the fabric of your jacket, soaking up her the feeling of her being wrapped around you and letting out deep shaky breath, that she noticed, before untangling yourself and smiling at her, a tired smile, but a very genuine one.

the urge to cry was still there, that thing of affection almost being painful when you´re in in desperate need of it, but you didn´t. she saw it and it worried her but she let it pass, giving you a moment to adjust, taking your hand in hers, “come on, let´s get you comfortable” she led you to the living room, it was just as you remembered, inviting and cozy, the faint light of the fire and a small lamp in the corner of the room, the smell of something like a scented candle, “here drink” Tess ordered as she held up a cup of tea that had been standing on the coffee table long enough to not be hot anymore, “I think you need this more than me”. you gladly accepted, it was herbal with a slight taste of honey and you imagined that she´d already taken a sip, liking the idea of indirectly kissing her by having your lips where hers had been before.

Tess sat down on the couch and moved closer to you once you sat next to her, her hand on your cheek then which you immediately leaned into. she caressed you for a moment, studying your face from up close, enamored, “you´re exhausted, hm?” a low, sympathetic tone, “yeah.. but this is helping” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, for a moment she let you close your eyes, holding your face in her palm, before her hand moved down to your own, holding it reassuringly as she spoke “wanna tell me what´s going on sweetie?” she asked, patient, giving you time to think of answer while you laced your fingers through hers and rested your head against the couch cushion.

“yeah. it´s just-” your voice was shaky which embarrassed you a little, but she encouraged you, “go on, I´ll understand”, you knew she would, so you went on.“well I already told you about not being too happy here in general since I came here, right?” she nodded “yes”, listening intently, still holding your hand, absentmindedly running her thumb over your skin, leaning in so you wouldn´t have to speak too loudly, making it more intimate, “the past few months it just got worse and worse, before you guys came it got pretty bad. the thing is I can´t cope when I have too much time on my hands, I really can´t be alone with my thoughts for too long, so I often just kept working and working because there are no other distractions around here” you spared her the gnarlier details, “and yeah it just wore me down, and I don´t how to fucking stop that´s the thing, I don´t know what to do Tess, I don´t know how to just live and be present” your ability to mask your pain had gone away, you seemed genuinely shaken up once you got done talking, your gaze was not on her, but she wanted you to look at her, so she lifted your head with her fingers, once you looked at her you could tell her expression had turned even more concerned, “and nobody noticed that something was off? nobody was looking out for you?” you shrugged, a sort of defeated look to you.

“I live alone, and well. not everyone has me figured out the way you have” she shook her head, a flicker of anger in her eyes as it dawned on her just how exhausted you truly must be, after years of being on your own with all of that to deal with, she sounded more stern, more intense as she spoke again, leaning in for emphasis, “okay, you listen to me. I know you´re used to being on your own and having nobody to rely on, and I know it´s not easy to give that up, I do, but I´m here now, and we´ll figure it out together. alright? it will be okay” your look of doubt just made her double down “it will. you´re gonna come to me when you don´t wanna be alone with your thoughts and I´ll find a way to distract you” there it was again, her way of putting things like an order, not even giving you the chance to deny her care, so you nodded as she tenderly brushed a strand of hair out of your face,“how about you tell me what´s been on your mind, hm? that´s a start”.

you weren´t used to sharing any of your inner thoughts with someone, so it took you a moment to gather up the courage to be honest, “well, it used to be all kinds of things, dread about not having anything to do with my life here. but it changed. now it´s just one thing really”, that peaked her interest, “and what´s that?”, you paused a moment, debating whether to be that honest, but you wanted at least one person to finally know you to your core, “are you gonna leave again?”, she didn´t expect that question at all so she looked confused as she responded “leave? what...as in leave town? we just moved here like three weeks ago” there was an amused smile on her face, but she realized that you were being dead serious, your expression almost terrified while waiting for a definitive no, it went straight to her heart,“oh sweetie. come here” she said, pulling you closer by your shoulders to hold you, to soothe you by running her fingers through your hair, the moment she did that you felt tears in your eyes, clinging to her, your fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, “I´m not going anywhere, I promise you that, I´m here for good” she whispered while continuing the gentle touches, she realized then that you had yet to know what it feels like, to be able to trust that things were gonna turn out well, that there wasn´t always some disaster waiting on the horizon. she realized that it was one thing to care for you, it was another to help you grow comfortable with that care, to accept it, to trust that it would last, that you could let go of your old habit of never growing attached to anyone or anything.

you stayed like that for a moment, not full on crying into her shoulder, but shedding a few tears as you calmed down a little, after a while you separated and you went to wipe your eyes, laughing to yourself a little, it almost made her cry too then, to finally see a brighter expression on your face again, that smile that had won her over the moment you introduced yourself to her. “Jesus I´m sorry. I really don´t wanna be a fucking burden, I´ll get a grip now, I´ve just never felt like this about anyone..” you said while making sure your eyes were dry again, but Tess just shook her head, “you really have some self perception issue we need to work on here, getting to know you like this is not some favor I´m doing, it´s the one thing that has made coming here worth it. I´ll have you know that I was teased mercilessly all day today by Joel for constantly smiling to myself.”

your eyes lit up then, you moved over and put your arms around her neck, looking at her from up close, getting a good look at her for the first time that day, her hands moving under your shirt, to your back, “really?” you said, clearly loving that image, your smile turning into a satisfied grin, she was beyond relieved to see the switch in your mood, “hm, you really did a number on me” you kept staring into her eyes, “well, when you left earlier I just stood there for like 15 minutes recovering so..” you confessed, she laughed, “okay so we both just spent the whole day today thinking about each other, huh?”, you leaned down to kiss her then while uttering “guess so”, your hands in her hair, kissing her more heartfelt than earlier, a distinct emotionality to it, not even making out at first but just savoring the feeling of your lips against hers, eventually getting worked up from being pressed against her and breathing heavier, her hands moving up to your face to hold you in place while you kissed but struggled at times to keep it uninterrupted, the intensity leaving you just sighing into each other´s open mouths every now and then, growing hotter from the sounds, the feeling of each others tongues only adding to it once you really abandoned restrained and turned sloppy with it, her briefly, lightly biting your lower lip, drawing a moan out of you as she grabbed your tits through your shirt, remembering that you didn´t mind when she did it a little roughly.

after a while of being all over each other getting lost in the feeling of it, you climbed off of her and Tess realized just how wet your clothes had gotten from the rain earlier, she was so distracted before that it only then struck her, she fussed with your damp shirt, “okay you need to change, this isn´t good, you´ll catch a cold”, but she wasn´t gonna send you home, no way, “wanna come up to my room? I´ll give you something fresh to wear” her voice purposely low and smooth to persuade you, which wasn´t even needed, of course you´d say yes to the promise of seeing her space, getting dressed in something that might have her lingering scent on it, “yes I´d love that” you said, so she got up and pulled you up with her, gesturing for you to follow her.

after you made your up the stairs to the first floor, Tess went in ahead of you to turn on a few small lights, telling you to make yourself at home, and the second you saw her bed, which was considerably bigger than yours, it hit you just how tired you were, so you made your way to the end of the bedrame and sat down with your legs dangling off, taking in the details of her room. it was pretty impressive to you: two large wood paneled windows on each wall that faced the garden, a tree so close to them that you could see its outline even in the dark, a long full body mirror in the corner, a door that seemed to open to a walk in closet, beautiful wallpaper with a subtle flower print, you knew she might have chosen a slightly less feminine touch but it was undeniably a great space for her to have to herself, “damn this might be the nicest room I´ve seen in this town” you marveled as she lit a candle on her night stand, “yeah I know, I got pretty fucking lucky here”, Tess was looking at you as she said this, not at her space.

secretly you were already kind of imagining the room as partially yours, knowing there was a good chance you´d come back again and again, a smile on your face as you she made her way over to where you were sitting, standing in front of you then, sort of towering over you which you liked, “okay, we should get you out of these now”, which you took as a cue to undress but before you could undo even do anything she gently pushed your hand away, “no, let me do that for you”, not wanting you to life another finger after having had an exhausting day, so you gave in, gladly, smiling up at her as her eyes fell to where her hands got busy with opening your shirt, a quick succession of undoing buttons, she wasn´t fumbling at all her hands were steady, and it did turn you on, to have her handle you with such care, you were at a loss almost as she pulled your arms out of the sleeves as if she didn´t want to break you, gently, a stark contrast to her generally not very inviting aura, which vanished into thin air around you.

she wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a feeling of safety, of being held. your tank top was also far from dry, and you saw her hesitate but you almost begged her then, “go on”, wanting the intimacy of being exposed, being seen, she nodded, realizing that it wasn´t just about the clothes anymore, that you were getting something you needed out of it. she moved her hands under your top to pull it over your head, and the moment you were left sitting there topless, your skin painted in a golden hue from the dim light, her eyes changed, you were watching her while she was taking in the sight if of you, her palms resting on your shoulders, warm, so warm, once she looked at you again she moved her hands down your neck, your chest, slowly, “you´re so beautiful”. for the first time you thought you could hear her voice wavering, a hint of a tremor and the way she was standing between your legs, looking down at you, it made you feel weak in the most satisfying way. for so long you´d worked at seeming unfazed by anything, but in that moment you were glad to surrender, to look up at her in awe, to let her do whatever she wanted to, that moment with her, it felt sacred in a way. her eyes fell to a spot on your chest where she´d left a subtle mark the night before, a faint purple, she traced it for a second before leaning down to kiss the spot, ever so softly. a moment later she got onto her knees, moving between your legs to unzip your jeans and help you out of them too and once you were left in nothing but your underwear, you realized that that was the first time she´d seen you fully exposed, which felt good, her gaze never made you feel uneasy, it always made you want more.

Tess didn´t get up again but remained on her knees, her hands on either your thighs, feeling your soft skin, caressing you, and you were still at a loss for words, just taking it in, your body heating up from what she was doing, almost blacking out as she kissed your inner thigh, not just once, but leaving soft kisses all the way down to your knee. you could feel her long hair brushing your skin, tingling a little, her other hand lightly squeezing your other thigh as she seemed to get lost in the feeling of your skin, a kind of adoration that was enough to make you feel like you were imagining it all, it was beyond anything you´d expected from her, the way she was almost worshiping your physique. once she stopped to look up at you, she saw your eyes almost closing in pleasure, “relax for me okay? lay down, let me make you feel good” she said and you took the order, laying down flat on your back while your lower half was still at the edge of the bed, in her grip.

after Tess kissed your other thigh and felt you relaxing, quietly sighing, clearly wanting more, the progression of sensual to sexual was so seemless that it didn´t even make you nervous when she moved to pull of your underwear, the moment you felt her touch the fabric you assured her with a “it´s okay”, eager to be hers entirely. the feeling of laying there on the soft bed, the rain still making light sounds against the windows, the sensation of her lips trailing down your body, it left you fully present in your body, no thoughts other than god this feels good, it was exhilarating to be nude and to practically feel every part of you warm up and pulse with desire, your face growing hot, your chest rising and falling with heavy deep breaths, the space above your hips burning as she held onto you, it was clear to her that you were turned on to a level that could and should be deepened, so once your underwear was discarded onto the floor she moved further up between your legs, tightening her grip on you a little, pushing your knees apart more to have space, hooking her arms under your thighs to pull you down onto her face.

it was a charged moment for both you and Tess, neither of you had been intimate with anyone in a good while, so you felt every little sensation of that moment intensely, she had no idea if anyone had ever gone down on you at all so she felt a sense of responsibility, to not just be gentle and patient but to also make it heartfelt and passionate enough for you to crave more once she was done, a mix of carefulness and the urge to show you just how good it could feel. she knew she had all the time in the world, so at first she just focused on the skin leading up to where she was going, licking the highest part of your inner thigh, broad strokes with her flat tongue just tasting your skin for a moment, your sounds still faint but she could feel your body reacting, a slight twitch in your leg as she kneaded the skin where her fingers were digging in while moving to your center and running her flat tongue over your cunt in one big stroke, leaving your lips glistening with her spit, a slight gasp from you then, followed by a needy “please Tess..”, urging her to go ahead, so she briefly reached up and spread you open with her fingers, teasing you for a moment by running them up and down between your folds before leaning in and licking up what had leaked out already, a hum of pleasure as the slick texture hit her tongue, a sudden hunger, so she put more force into it and found a rhythm of sucking and licking your soft sensitive flesh that drove not only you insane but herself too, your whole body flushed by that point, your hands gripping the sheets before she reached up to hold them down, to make it even more intimate, feeling your hips moving up to meet her tongue, your fingers trapping hers, squeezing quite hard from the overwhelming feeling, but you were being easy, you didn´t squirm much or try to move away, it was pure bliss for her the way you were sprawled out and open for her, she praised you for a moment as she lifed her head, moving her hand to caress your stomach, “you´re being so good for me, such a good girl”, it only turned you on more, “my angel” she whispered against your skin as she could hear you whine from the mix of her words and her touches, her own underwear soaked by that point from it all, so much so that she might even finish too.

to really push you towards your impending climax she stopped pushing her tongue into you after having gone at it for a while and moved to suck on your clit, hard, not to a point of pain but hard enough to make you see stars for a second, “jesus fuck..” you moaned as she kept doing it, “Tess fuck I´ll-” you cried, feeling her steady you by grabbing your hips, “it´s okay, breathe, I got you” cooing at you before really harnessing all of her strength to overstiunalte your clit to the point of your walls clenching and your legs shaking, her hands constantly running up and down your body to add to the arousal, she knew that a squeeze and a grab at the right moment would only make you cum harder, you tried to somehow remain in place as you felt the orgasm building in your core and spreading out through your whole body in violent waves, your moaning nad whining almost making her lose her mind with lust as she felt the whole lower half of her face getting soaked in your juices, an intense final shudder told her you were finished but she wasn´t, letting you calm down a little as she gathered up every last drop that she´d gotten out of you, a last sloppy lick over your cunt before easing up and catching her breath, still between your legs, until she had the urge to see your face and climbed up over you, trapping you beneath her, satisfied with the look she found on your face, all flushed and exhausted and content.

before she could say anything you pulled her down for a kiss, which turned her on even more because she knew you knew she hadn´t wiped her mouth or chin yet, a gesture of intimacy that got her good, you tasting yourself on her lips, not even just a closed mouth kiss but kissing her in a way that made clear how much you´d enjoyed what she´d just done. “do I wanna know how you got that good at eating pussy” you said, which got a laugh out of her, her hand in your hair as she said “oh you know, the hundreds of women I dated before you” you didn´t laugh, wondering for a split second if she might actually mean it “I´m joking, don´t worry, I guess you bring it out of me”, “okay now you´re just sweet talking me” you said, your hands around her neck as she shook her head, “not my style, you should know that by now I think”, both of you smiling at each other as she said this because you did know, but it was still new to you, to be wanted like that, by someone you wanted just as badly. you knew her arms must have gotten tired from hovering over you so you pulled her down onto your chest, “careful there” she said, worrying she was gonna be too heavy, “you can crush me I don´t mind” you said, holding onto her as you could hear her laughing, resting on your chest for a moment.

neither of you were bold enough yet to ask the other one to spend the night together, so around midnight after laying there together for a good while, she offered to walk you home. as you stood in front of your door and looked at her you didn´t dare to kiss her even though it was dark and nobody was out there except you two, but you did allow yourself what you´d been too shy to do earlier, which was a hug that went beyond the friendly kind, so you stepped closer to her one last time that night and embraced her as tightly as possible, communicating something a simple thank you, wouldn´t have. as you stood there, arms around each other, the faint sound of a few lone birds above you, the smell of snow still lingering int the air, she lightly ran her hand over the back of your head, speaking in a low tone, “you take it easy tomorrow, okay? no work, no nothing, and if anyone really needs you to do something, send them to me, I´ll take care of it.” you smiled against her shoulder, still gripping the fabric of her jacket, “okay, I will”, separating only after a good two minutes of standing there in an embrace, giving each other a last love filled glance before saying goodnight.

while you were sleeping soundly later that night, Tess and Joel coincidentally got up to get some water from the kitchen at the same time. she´d been awake for hours just laying there unable to stop thinking about you and was already pouring herself a glass as she heard him coming down the stairs, so she got out a second glass and handed it to the disheveled half asleep man who got out a “thank you” but only barely, his voice still impacted by sleep, as she sat down at the table with him, both of them sitting there in silence for a moment. she had a grave expression, staring into space, so Joel asked “hey, you good?”, she looked like she was about to deliver bad news or tell him about a nightmare, but after taking a deep breath and looking up at him, Tess said “I think I´m in love with her.”.

Joel thought of course this woman would say it like she was saying she just killed someone, all serious and almost embarrassed, he smiled then, a genuine warm smile, not the kind he politely gave strangers, the kind reserved for his best friend, he patted her hand as he spoke “well. that´s a beautiful thing Tess”, he realized that his Texan accent had slipped out heavily with that phrase but he meant it, “but you´re scared, hm?” he knew her, he could read her in an instant, she nodded, “you know m Joel, I wasn´t prepared to feel like this. at all.” he understood, “yeah it´s always scary to care. trust me, I´m an expert in trying not to. but I need you to understand that you deserve this okay? hell, we went through so much awful shit, and you saved my ass so many times, I think it´s time for you to let all that go and give being happy a shot. as weird as it might feel to you at first, you deserve it.”

she was genuinely moved by that, leaning her head on her hands while looking at him, they usually expressed their care in other ways, not via words, so she knew it meant a lot for him to be that earnest, “I´ll try” she whispered, he gave her an encouraging nod before downing the rest of his water, “you know this is fun for me. it´s like I am getting a whole new friend out of this. you´re much better company when you have a pretty girl to fawn over”, he teased, earning himself a sharp look from her, “well I´m glad me losing my fucking mind is entertaining to you” she said, shaking her head, but clearly relieved that Joel knew how to help her ease up.

in Jackson there were generally only really two viable options when deciding what to do with your time at night: staying in, or going out to see who was hanging around at the bar, so the next day Tess and Joel found themselves leaving the house around 8pm to go have a drink, simultaneously cursing the cold air as they stepped outside, muttering things like “jesus fuck it´s cold”.

naively Joel started talking to Tess about his day, some gossip he´d overheard, his plans for their garden, but Tess´s very short and unenthusiastic answers of “oh cool” or “I see” or “yeah”, made him suspect that she was not listening at all, that her mind was of course somewhere else completely, so to test if she was even remotely paying attention he said: “you know I was thinking about burning our house down. just letting the whole thing go up in flames” and Tess gave a mild nod and an “uh-huh” in response, her expression unchanged, which made him speak louder then and push her in the side, “Jesus Christ Tess, just go on and get her to come with us, this is unbearable” he shook his head in disbelief over his lovestruck friend as he said this, watching her snap out of her state of daydreaming, “so you´re trying to get me in trouble, huh?”, “oh come on, relax, nobody´s gonna think twice about two women talking to each other, they´ll be too busy getting shitfaced” he had a point. “go! get your girlfriend!” he said, teasing a little, pushing her to do it, “fuck off” she muttered, secretly enjoying “girlfriend” being used to address you, the word swirling around in her mind as she approached your house, girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend almost a prayer like quality to the way its echo kept lingering in her ears, giving her something to put her faith in: the idea of maybe someday soon being able to refer to you as that.

once you opened the door she didn´t even say hello, immediately opening with “go get a jacket, we´re going to get a drink”, you laughed, “damn okay, you´re wasting no time huh” she nodded, “you know me”, she realized that you looked much more refreshed than the night before, calm and healthy, she suspected you´d taken her order and gone easy on yourself during the day.

as you walked down the street Tess assured you that she had Joel under control, that he wouldn´t be weird about it, so as you walked into the bar you followed her over to where he was waiting.

as you approached you saw that three shots were standing on the counter, he looked at both of you, “join me?”, which immediately made you relax, he seemed much less intimidating the moment he opened his mouth. all three of you stood there as you downed the shot, immediately twisting your faces as you felt the burn of the surprisingly strong liquor, “jesus did they pour us gasoline??” you said, which got a laugh out of him, the first of many that followed the minutes after when you all got more comfortable, Tess watching you charm him without even trying, all of you standing there by the bar, nursing your drinks, you giving them some of the inside scoop about Jackson they might not have picked up on yet, airing out some of your grievances, letting them share some of their own, it was clear to them you wouldn´t talk so a sense of trust was established within the hour so you spent together.

once Tommy entered the bar and greeted you before talking to Joel about something private, you and Tess used the opportunity to slip away for a moment, heading to a quieter corner of the bar, sitting down by an empty table. you were tipsier than her since she could definitely handle her liquor better, but it was the nice kind of tipsy, a buzz that made you more prone to being honest, but also, to being affectionate so you had to remind yourself not to kiss her as she stared at you all lovingly, “what?” you said, leaning your hands on your folded hands, looking up at her with doe eyes, she cocked her head, smiling in a way that made her look young, girlish almost, “you should be proud of yourself, he never warms up to strangers this fast. but again, he´d have to be a fucking fool not to like you”.

you sounded a little drunk then as you said “you´re so sweet to me”, while staring at her, and in that moment Tess didn´t care anymore about what anyone might think, she wanted to touch you so she did, brushing your hair out of your face before caressing your cheek, watching your eyes widen as you realized what she´d just done, out in public, but it felt good, to be claimed in a way, so you leaned into it. not everyone noticed, it´s not like every person in town was that invested in what you two were doing, but Tommy immediately clocked it, his eyes flickered over to where Tess´s hand met your face, his own colored in shock as he hit Joel on the arm to draw his attention where he was looking, but Joel just took a sip of his drink, keeping his mouth shut. as Tommy saw the distinct lack of surprise on Joel´s face as he turned to him, he uttered under his breath “oh so you knew??” but Joel just shrugged, “hey, I love you brother, but not enough to spill her secrets to you” and after the initial shock settled Tommy shook his head and smiled to himself while staring down into his glass, “damn, she really went straight for the best one huh”, Joel laughed, “I won´t tell Maria that you said that”, “oh fuck off you know how what I mean”, and he did, during the hour that he´d spent with you and Tess it became clear to him why she liked you, and even clearer why you two had taken so little time to fall for each other. it was so obvious to him, that you were both the types to keep to yourself, to be a little stubborn and unwilling to open up, until you met someone you were utterly mesmerized by, and lucky for you, it had happened.

it suddenly made his chest swell to witness a love like that forming right in front of his eyes because it reminded him of how romance had changed after the outbreak. nobody had time anymore for endless meaningless dates during the end of the world, survivors knew that it was a miracle to still be alive, and even more of a miracle to meet someone whom you could love, so no matter who they were, where they met, when two people saw a light in each other that might illuminate the endless dark of their world, most people usually went into that love shaking and afraid but determined to keep it, because everyone knew tomorrow was never promised. there was an urgency to love after the outbreak, a deep visceral need, a sense of now or never that sometimes ended up pushing people together who´d have never met before. every now and then the stars aligned and fated run ins ended up creating some of the most beautiful and unexpected unions, Joel thought back to Frank and Bill, about his brother and Maria, other couples he´d met, and how you and Tess were in a similar spot, terrified of the depth of your feelings, but so clearly made for each other, so clearly ready to finally open up.

as he was thinking all that, Tess saw that your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute and asked “wanna get out of here?”, seeing you nod, a little sleepy and slurring your words as you said, “yeah. but to your bed, not mine” she smiled, “alright, let´s go then”, as she went over to your side of the table and helped you up, throwing a glance back to Joel who threw her a wave and a knowing look.

once you were outside and the cool air hit your face you realized that the fact that she´d kind of outed you as lovers allowed you to abandon your previous restraint, so you huddled up with her, linking arms, tightly, walking to their house as a few snowflakes fell onto your faces, a giddiness to you that was partially due to the alcohol, mostly due to feeling like she´d somehow committed herself to you because there was no way she´d have done that with someone she had no intention of really being with, not that you ever doubted her but it felt good, to have solid proof of how much you mattered to her, enough to risk potential hostility from onlookers. “so, what made you do that?” you asked, clearly full of adoration for her, she looked at you from the side, holding you close, making sure you wouldn´t slip or fall, the uninhibited even brighter smile than usual on your face making her melt.

“oh well. I realized that pretty much all of them know about my not so spotless past by now, so.. I highly doubt any of them would dare to give us, me specifically, any trouble”, you laughed, nodding, “right. your past as a violent ruthless killer” drawing out the last words for dramatic effect, nudging her, messing with her a little, but instead of laughing she just raised her eyebrows at you, “I really don´t know what you´re using that ironic tone for, miss” you challenged her, “oh so you´re proud of all that, huh?” amused by her taking offense, she shrugged, “no. but maybe I should be, considering that you seem to get a little turned on whenever it comes up” you didn´t even try to protest because it was true, it did thrill you to think that she was capable of all that if needed, “well, maybe I have a thing for fucked up women” you teased, she laughed, “clearly I do too” pointing at you as she said it, you laughed too then, “look at us. match made in heaven” that one definitely wouldn´t have left your lips in a sober state and she just let the words linger in the air as you approached their house but she thought yes, sounds about right.

walking up the stairs to her room she made you go in front of her, both of her hands on your back to sure you wouldn´t stumble and fall, making fun of you for being a lightweight but lovingly, she liked seeing you with your walls all the way down, grabbing her more freely and saying little things out loud you usually wouldn´t have, remarking upon her eye color, her hands, everything that came to mind, all of your thoughts tumbling out, a never ending list of things you liked about her, to a point where she almost told you to stop, blushing a little, which she usually never did.

once you were in her room you immediately flopped face down onto her bed, groaning as you felt the soft bedding under you. Tess dutifully bent down to help you out of your shoes, a simple gesture that made you feel even softer towards her. once she´d also helped you out of your jacket she didn´t lay down but decided to sit next to you on the bed, tempted by the sight of you, pulling up your shirt all the way to your shoulders so she could caress your back, a “hmm” sound of approval from you the second she touched you, her fingertips running up and down your spine, stopping for a second as she saw a faint scar under your right shoulder blade, tracing it for a moment. “how´d you get this?” she asked, you obviously never looked at your own back and you couldn´t even think of where´d you´d gotten it, it was so long ago “don´t remember” you said as she leaned down to kiss the impact of that ancient injury, her lips resting there for a moment as she thought that she wanted all of your pain to be like that in the future: a distant memory, so far gone that it doesn´t have any hold on you anymore. she wanted nothing more than to give you a life that would be so full of love and warmth that you´d remember the rough years before knowing her with a sense of that all seems so far away, I can´t even recall the details. you were lost in the feeling of her impact on your exposed back as she kissed you all the way up to your neck, feeling you relax under her.

after a while you wanted to see her again so you used all the strength that was left in your tired body to roll over onto your back, she laughed as she saw the effort it took and helped you move closer to her, “come here” she said while grabbing you, which ended up with you laying your head in her lap, staring up at her as she held your face on either side, smiling down at you, it struck you in that moment how perfect her face was to you, her hair framing it beautifully,“you´re so pretty” you said, drawing out the “y”, that was not the word people usually used for her and she shook her head while tracing your facial features with her index finger, “you´re the pretty one here baby”, the pet name got to you, you grinned, enjoying the feeling of her feathery touches on your face, lulling you into a state of sleepy bliss. laying on her thighs was about as comforting as anything in your life had ever been.

“oh by the way” she said, watching you close your eyes for a moment, “hmm” you answered, “your schedule for the next month or so is cleared, no more working around town for a while” you were confused then, your eyes open again, her palms still warm on your cheeks, “what do you mean?”, a smug grin on her face, “well.. I thought a lot about what you told me last night, so I talked to Maria earlier. I asked her if she´d mind if I stole you away for a while to help me around the house. Joel is god awful at being indoors for too long, he´s better with the garden and the facade of the house, all that, so I suggested you should help me instead. and I think she said yes because she was just glad to see me warm up to someone but yeah..by the time Tommy gets home I think she´ll know what my actual reason for all that was” you nodded, smiling, taking it all in, “I´m surprised you think I´d be any help” you joked, “oh I think you can handle painting some walls sweetheart”, you nodded, “or, you know, how did you put it, I could “sit there and look pretty”, she laughed, stroking your hair, “exactly yes”, you realized that she´d done that to look out for you, to watch over you and make sure you weren´t doing anything stupid to yourself, which made you emotional then.

you started to actually imagine it, spending your days with her and it seemed a little too good to be true, “that should be fun. you and me and an empty space” you grinned, “hm, let´s see how much work we actually get done huh”, “oh and Joel actually said we could decide what to do with the attic once we´re done with it. use it as a nice space to hang out in when you´re here or something” you laughed then, “I think he might have said that because he heard us last night, you know, trying to get us far away from his room” she laughed, considering it “maybe. but don´t worry, if he did hear us, you sounded hot” she teased, you slapped her arm then, “stop”.

after a few more minutes of you laying there you both got ready for bed because it was clear that you were gonna stay over. she washed your face for you because she was scared of you hitting your head on the porcelain if you did it yourself, giving you some of her clothes to sleep in, a loose long sleeve shirt and oversized sweatpants, a similar kind to the ones she was wearing which you used mercilessly to your advantage, your hands slipping under her wide shirt the entire time you two were in the bathroom, feeling her wince a little each time, “you´re groping me” she joked as your hands wandered up her chest, “I am yes” you whispered before she told you to quit it and go to bed with her, but she loved it, having you all over her, being handsy, it was sweet considering how restrained you´d both been just a day before, debating whether holding hands in public was fine.

once you both got comfortable under the covers it took very little time for you to doze off. at first you laid on top of her for a while but then you moved to your side so you could face her, you both wanted to look at the other person so you ended up falling asleep as mirror images, one arm around the other person´s torso, feeling each other´s slow breaths as you feel asleep, your body heat keeping the other person warm during the snowy night.

it was a symbolic image, the way you two laid there like two perfect halves, because even though you´d lead very different lives leading up to that moment, you were both experiencing the same exact thing: a new beginning. your love was going to change your lives drastically, you both felt it in your bones. for you it was an awakening, for her it was a rebirth. for you it would mean finally coming alive, finally feeling present and like it was worth it to have been born regardless of the mess that happened in the world so shortly after, for her it would mean embracing a third period of her life, after growing up in the normal word and then going through hell with Joel in the QZ, she was finally going to leave behind the guilt and shame about what she´d done to survive the decades before, what she´d done to get to the point of meeting you and finally seeing a light at the end of a tunnel she didn´t even know she could ever get out of.

that was where the acute sense of nervousness had come from for both of you, that fated feeling of: this woman is going to change everything.

laying there together that night, safe and content in each other´s arms, you both felt no fear anymore, only the deep calm of knowing you were only at the very beginning of a love so transformative you would finally know what it feels like to stop surviving and start living again.

you were both convinced the other one had saved you. you were both right.

#the title is taken from that phoebe bridgers song sidelines bc I realized that it fit the vibe of this so if you want go listen <3 #also feel free to send me any thoughts you have I’m really curious #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #anna torv

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backjustforberena · 3 months

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I'm so tired of people criticizing Rhaenys just because they can't grasp a nuanced conversation. I keep rolling my eyes when they bring up Jaehaerys or Luke taking Aemond's eye—it wasn't that hard to understand her point.

By the way, I'd like to know your opinion on Corlys when he said, "then we must hope to see our way forward in time." Some people think he was hinting at having a son, especially since he was holding Rhaenys's hips. However, in my opinion, he was already considering his bastards.

I'm on my mobile phone right now, so apologies for any mistakes or autocorrect mishaps that I fail to spot.

It is frustrating to see the criticism of Rhaenys but, as things have gone on, it's become fairly unsurprising to me. Sad, though. I think there are a myriad of reasons why Rhaenys as a character particularly seems to suffer from woeful interpretation from some viewers. This can range simply from her not behaving like however the watcher might have envisioned her character in the book, to having a certain negative opinion of her to be applied every time she speaks or acts, no matter what.

I think a lot is to do with Rhaenys's positioning. You need to engage with Rhaenys to fully appreciate her point of view. Her perspective is not an easy one to come by unless you make the effort to understand some fundamental truths about her. And, on screen, she is a character who is ambiguous, certainly in the first season. She is deliberately cautious and her speech reflects that.

We very rarely see her vulnerable and very rarely see her being inconsiderate of context. We have an idea of her backstory but we have not seen everything she has been through or how major events have shaped her, personally, on an emotional level. We are denied seeing unguarded responses or aftermaths.

She is frequently a vehicle for uncomfortable truths. She mainly shines in 1 vs 1 scenes, and they often include some judgement or passing of information or confrontation. When the scene partner is a favourite character or a character who has had more prominent screentime, it's very easy to discredit Rhaenys because to credit her would be to admit some flaw or ugliness about the other player. So much that I've seen is about what Rhaenys's words mean for that person or that issue rather than what it tells us about Rhaenys. What Rhaenys is thinking of considering. What her perspective is. And to also admit that an audience's perspective on something is different to Rhaenys's, either by proximity (our sense of time between things is different due to the storytelling) or by information (us being aware of things or details Rhaenys isn't - or IS, as as may be the case with various relationships and her past and her claim).

So I think a lot of hate comes from a lack of willingness to engage with what and who Rhaenys is. Rhaenys is usually, frankly, an onion.

On to your question about Rhaenys and Corlys and Corlys's intentions... He is not hinting at having a son with Rhaenys. Rhaenys is in her 50s at least and is a menopausal woman, if we take Eve Best's word for it. She is NOT having a baby. Corlys is just putting his hands on her hip for the same reason she puts her hand in his hair: they want to be close and love one another and they're also always one good reason away from having sex.

Do I think he's considering Alyn and Addam? Actually... no, I don't. Certainly NOT consciously. It's not an option right now, not with Rhaenys living and, and I cannot stress this enough, Corlys is not expecting to lose his wife. Nothing about that conversation suggests that, nor have any of their others. The possibility of HIM dying has come up. Her? No.

I think it's a general feeling of wanting to avoid the issue for the sake of peace with his wife. He just doesn't want to have the conversation. I think he is also still grappling with his own mortality, having nearly died and having had Luke die. He may simply not want to move on from that space yet. He's asking for time. He's still including her with "we", but it's a tricky conversation and not one he's up to having. Nor one that he wants to admit to have to have.

In short: dumbass is trying to deflect.

#house of the dragon #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon spoilers #rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon #rhaenys x corlys

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Liminal spaces. 3515 words.

1587

Knock, knock.

Edward screamed awake. There was daylight coming from somewhere, so he had some sense that he’d made it through the night. Something was wrong. But there was stillness and it was at odds with how he felt.

He squinted around, gaze landing on the man who saved him. He was wide awake and had pushed himself into the corner of their hideout. His mouth opened like he was going to speak to Edward, but quickly he abandoned the act. There were enough clues on his face though. Beyond the grief was disbelief.

Edward didn’t need the man to tell him that he had died. He remembered the agony. The nothingness after it. Then, a force dragging him back, knock… knock… knocking as it went.

The men looked at each other.

“Thank you,” Edward said, his voice hoarse and barely audible. “But… you must leave…” Maybe he meant ‘you must leave and see what is left of your people,’ or ‘you must leave for I do not know what is to become from me,’ or maybe something else. Whatever the meaning, it was understood.

The man nodded once and began to crawl through the hideout. As he passed Edward, he brushed his knuckles along Edward’s jawline. It was a tender and kind touch, the very last of its kind in the new vampire’s life.

It was not as though Edward had been consciously aware of his heartbeat throughout his life, but he as soon as he was alone, he was shockingly aware of the lack of it.

His body was completely and utterly silent.

He laid in the dirt, closed his eyes, and tried to rest. He prayed to a God he had never believed in for a short second life. Let me rot into this earth. When the itch of his eyes turned prickly, little needles scraping against them, Edward realised there would be no rest.

If he couldn’t shut his eyes, he would focus on something. He looked around, determined that he was in a small hollow under a tree surrounded by dirt and bark debris. There was a spider – the largest Edward had ever seen – with spindly legs and smooth motion. She was starting a web, only two pieces of silk threaded so far.

The pain was rolling back into him, like it was furious that he was trying to distract himself.

The pain was heavy, pinning him to the dirt floor with enough force he couldn’t move even his little finger. Bubbly, frothy heat. His blood undergoing an unholy chemical reaction. Edward’s muscles tensed and he couldn’t scream, his jaw locked firm. All he could do was whimper.

It was worse than sea sickness. Worse than a hangover. Worse than a gut punch. The nausea tore his stomach to shreds, the ache pulsing through his spine and permeating his entire body. He cramped until his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

He did not fall asleep or become unconscious, but Edward slipped away for some time. When he saw the spider again, he came back, sure that it had been hours. It had been at least half a day’s worth of pain, he thought.

Four.

Four glittering threads of webbing.

Only a minute had gone by. Each second agony.

The nausea didn’t leave, but it was joined by new kinds of pain that felt unfamiliar to Edward. His lungs didn’t work anymore, didn’t need to work, but he still felt short of breath. Claustrophobic. It was not just the hideout closing in on him but the entire world, collapsing in on his hollowed-out body. The weight of it. The history of its suffering all catching up and pressing into Edward like he was the catalyst for it all.

It continued like this. He couldn’t be sure what was real and what was poetic imagery. Did it feel like he grounded his teeth into a gritty pulp, only for new ones to take their place? Or did that actually happen? Did it feel like his bones were coated in molten metal? Or did that happen? Did it feel like each of his fingernails had been slowly ripped from their beds? Or did that happen?

Half a web. She’d spun half a web. Such a good spider.

Edward’s ears may as well have been filled with dirt. He couldn’t make out sounds. Maybe the ocean… or was it a chorus of screams? The roar of flames? No. No. Silence. There was silence. Maybe. Knock, knock.

A voice? Yes. Edward could hear his father calling his name. It must have been his father because anyone who knew him from the colony would have been calling for Wayne. So, his father…

Daddy?

No. There was no voice. Nobody calling.

Silence.

His skin hurt. He wanted to scratch. He needed to. But he couldn’t move. It hurt.

Hurt.

Hurts.

Check the web.

Only one more thread. She’s getting there, though. The day was soon to grow old, Edward decided, because it was getting cooler. Or was that just him? He was cold. He knew he was cold. He was dead and dead things are cold.

Dead.

The pain travelled. Uncharted. No map for Edward to follow. Free falling. Then, worse than the complete unknown, the tiniest flicker of recognition. There was something in the pain. If he could just focus and think, maybe he could place it. To what end, he didn’t know. What function could naming the pain serve?

Web.

It was complete. Edward would have done a second take if he could have moved his body. The spiderweb was finishsed, glistening in the thin rays of orange light that had filtered in from the world above. How much time had passed? He reconciled with the fact that time did not mean anything. Not anymore. Not ever again.

The spider was gone. His eyes flicked around, looking for her. Was she a friend? An adversary? Food? Edward didn’t know. It hurt to move his eyes so much, so he stared at the web and waited.

Fire.

Meat.

Salt.

Ocean.

Burning.

Had he been able to smell the whole time or was the sense coming back to him? Edward didn’t care. Didn’t care that the scents could mean people were close. Close enough to help. Even if help came in the form of being put down. He was watching the web be built. No. No, that’s not right. He was looking for the spider? No. The spider was gone. It was all gone. Except the pain.

Hurts.

Dirt. He could smell the dirt. The layers of forest mulch. A dead animal decomposing. Mud and moss. Salt. Salt. The ocean.

Hunger.

Please, God.

It was hunger. Edward’s pain took the same shape as hunger. He knew it well. The scraps thrown to him by his father. Warm meals cooked by the nice neighbour when he was left home alone for days on end. Hot, dusty afternoons on the farm. Sneaking apples. Apples. Appie pie from the farmer’s wife. Food. Hunger. Hungry.

Eat.

The hunger demanded attention. Now that the revelation was clear, Edward couldn’t think of anything else. The monster took over, its primal need to quench an unholy thirst.

Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.

Finally, Edward’s body could move. He snapped up into a sitting position, scrambling around the small space. He crawled out the same way the man had left, only to recoil when the sunlight touched his skin. He tumbled back into the hideout, hissing like an animal.

DRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINK

He dug down in a frenzy, pulling worms from the ground and swallowing them whole. He ripped the bark from the trees, searching for anything. That’s where she was. The spider. Edward didn’t recognise her. She was being chewed into a pulp before she knew she’d been found.

Suddenly, Edward’s stomach heaved. His whole body rippled with it. It all came back out. A gooey mess of saliva and half-crushed insects.

DRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINK

There was no planning. Only action. Edward held his arm to his mouth and bit down. It was easy. New teeth. He wriggled his teeth to make the holes in his flesh a little wider, a little deeper. The blood didn’t flow, but he could suck.

He did it again. And again. Until his arm was a patchwork of open wounds and bite marks.

Blood, he learned.

He needed blood.

His own would quieten the voice demanding it, but it would not be enough.

Edward sat motionless. The pain was subsiding. His thoughts were returning. He was himself, but not really. He looked down at his arm. I cannot die, he reasoned. He’d sucked enough blood out that it would have killed a mortal man.

A boy born through violence. Raised by it. Drenched in it. It was inevitable that it would come to this. Wasn’t it? He could run from it. Pretend he was better than it. Fated, he thought. He was fated to become a monster.

The shadows moved across the hideout, slowly dissolving into twilight’s darkness.

It didn’t need to knock to tell Edward it was there. Edward had felt it come. He had heard the monster walk through the woods, a straight line to the tree, and call for his son. He crawled through the bug vomit, through pieces of his own flesh, through dirt.

Out in the night, Edward stood, unsteady on his new feet. The monster had heard stories about turnings going wrong. It wasn’t an exact science, though, he suspected Edward did not get enough vampire blood in the beginning. Then, his first human feed would be much too delayed. Mostly, bad turnings meant a true death. They would not revive as a vampire. But Edward… the monster did not know what to make of Edward. He was undead. He would need blood to survive. But there was something wrong with him. Some residual humanity. A shell of a conscience.

He would never truly be one of them.

Edward followed the vampire to what was left of the second attempt at a Roanoke colony. A majority of the English had been slaughtered. Drank dry. Some had managed to flee, finding safe haven with the Native Americans – who had also come under attack but faired better as they knew where to hide from the vampires. They would never return, instead assimilate, and move south to Croatoan Island. Almost a third of the colony had been turned. There would be nothing and no one to find when Governor John White returned in 1590.

What was left in front of Edward, though, was a handful of humans. Edward could smell it. Warm. Fresh. Blood. He was upon one of the humans before he could think. Nobody had to teach him how to become a monster, he’d been watching them all his life.

With the human blood, Edward’s arm healed. There were no scars, and there would be none until he first met witchfire years later. Edward travelled with the vampires, his new colony, but remained an outsider. He adopted an American accent. He taught himself, his education robust and deep. He did not hold back. He lost himself in the darkness. It was easy, in the end, giving up his soul.

When he was alone, Edward would bite through the flesh of his arm, just to see. There was no real pain. A kind of blood. But death? Never death.

He killed countless humans, not distinguishing between the ones who deserved it and the ones who didn’t. He pulled witches apart. Terrorised fae. Pain and fear were left in his wake. He wrote his own story, decided he was evil. That maybe, he always had been.

In 1836, his colony was moving through the American Midwest when they heard of a growing population in the flatlands of Indiana. The humans were protected by a coven of witches. This will be fun, Edward thought.

…

1986

The shopping list that had grown longer and longer was finally made redundant. Your Walmart shopping cart was full of all the things you needed to make the trailer a home. Clothing, linen, nice tea that was sold in a gift pack for a birthday. A television, modern snack food, and a lot of VHS and cassette tapes.

Eddie pushed the cart, following you down the aisles. It was late but still busy; Walmart seemed to exist in a liminal space. It was both a destination and a thoroughfare. Nobody belonged there but everyone was welcome. And, it seemed entirely unaffected by the events that had taken place in Hawkins. It was as if you were in a bubble.

You turned to Eddie, ready to ask him if there was anything else he would like or need. His gaze was fixed on where a group of children, unsupervised and hyped up on sugar, were pulling basketballs out of their packaging. The kids were throwing them at each other in a chaotic game of dodgeball.

“You can’t eat them,” you whispered to Eddie.

He shot you an amused look. “Oh? Not even one?”

It didn’t even cross your mind to wonder what your coven would think of you. Instead, you were utterly charmed, smiling back at Eddie.

It was then that a rogue basketball collided with your face.

Before anyone saw, Eddie had collected the ball and thrown it at the children with such force it looked like three of them were knocked to the ground by an invisible force. They scattered – some running crying to their parents, others evading Walmart staff.

Eddie was in front of you, cradling your face in his hands. His panicked expression told you there was blood. You lifted your fingers to your split lip, feeling the wetness.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Are you?”

His eyes flicked from your mouth to your eyes. He nodded slowly.

“Okay. Let’s get our stuff and go, okay?”

He nodded again, following you to the checkout. As you stood in line, sucking on your bottom lip, you could feel how ill at ease Eddie was. You reached for his cool hand, willing him to take in your warmth and let it ground him.

In the car, you said, “I can heal it, if it’s bothering you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows creased together.

“Did you forget that I’m a witch? A healing witch?”

He thought for a moment. “Why haven’t you healed it? If you can?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes it’s good to feel… normal. Human… And it’s kind of comforting, feeling the wound. Then the healing. Scab. Scar. I don’t know… Not everything has to be fixed with magic.” Also, you didn’t hate the metallic tang of blood, but you left that part out.

“If it does not hurt you, it does not bother me.”

On the ride home, Eddie was introduced to Iron Maiden, and naturally, their very own Eddie.

…

Having a vampire around the house proved to be somewhat convenient. Eddie easily carried in the shopping, lifting the CRT television like it weighed nothing. He whipped around the trailer, piling the now-dry clothes into a washing basket, and moving things around.

“Eddie! EDDIE! Stop. Stop!” you yelled, laughing. “You don’t have to…” You waved your arms randomly. “…All this. Just sit. Pick a movie to put on. I’ll do this stuff.”

He looked skeptical, and you burned to know the person he had been before his undeath. Still, Eddie did what you asked, slinking over to the couch and making his selection.

You liked nesting. Folding laundry and putting it away. Changing bedsheets. Lighting scented candles. You built yourself a home while Eddie watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Halfway through you thought maybe you should explain that the film shouldn’t be taken as a demonstration of modern culture, but as something far more punk. Subversive. Countercultural, really. Instead, you let the vampire sit there in awe at the singing and dancing.

“I fear, I am failing to understand the meaning of this,” he confessed as you sat down next to him with a cup of lavender and lemon tea.

“Most people do.”

Once again, you disregarded your natural sleep cycle with reckless abandon. The next tape in the VHS player was Dracula. You giggled as it started.

“This is about thirty years old, but it is easily one of the greatest vampire films. Its legacy is… I can’t really explain it. But this is what people think of, mostly, when they think of vampires.”

Eddie was unconvinced. Despite his memory loss, there was knowledge embedded in his DNA. He pointed out every single inaccuracy of the film.

“Wood? Wood cannot kill a vampire. No matter how sharp their stake may be!”

“GARLIC?!”

“Sunlight burns, but it cannot kill.”

It did occur to you, this time, to wonder about your coven. You wondered if throughout history, all that time witches spent trying to defeat vampires, if any of them had met one like Eddie. To learn from. To form an alliance with.

Probably not.

“Oh, if this offends your delicate sensibilities, just wait until Fright Night. That came out last year. The special effects are cutting edge,”

“Are the vampires this… foolish?”

Poor Christopher Lee.

“They are… more monstrous… Demonic.”

Eddie looked pleased with that, which was painfully ironic.

“You have to see Blacula too. And there are some others you are very much obligated to see,”

“And of witches? How accurately are you portrayed in these films?” he asked.

Bewitched. Bell, Book and Candle. Suspiria. I Married a Witch. Black Sunday.

“About the same. Though, witches are only sometimes the villains,”

“But never in real life,” Eddie commented, antagonistic but not cruel.

You shrugged. “I guess I don’t know anymore.”

The credits of Dracula rolled and you crawled along the carpet to switch all the electronics off. In the quiet, you turned around and leaned upon the coffee table-turned-makeshift altar. You and Eddie looked at each other. You were a breath away from saying, ‘I should go to bed,’ when Eddie suddenly said-

“I believe we knew each other.”

You knew what he meant. Before. Before the hex. Before whatever had happened. You nodded.

“We were, perhaps, friends,” he continued.

Again, you nodded. A tear formed and rolled down your cheek slowly. Eddie folded onto the carpet opposite you, leaning across the altar.

“Why does that make you sad?” he asked.

“I don’t understand why I could have done this to you… Why I can’t remember you… I’d remember you.” There was desperation in your voice and it spoke of what was being left unsaid. The shared thought both you and Eddie had. That maybe, perhaps, you were more than friends. “Tomorrow I’ll ask The Witches Who Came Before. Demand they tell me more,”

“Does it work like that?”

“No… but maybe they’ll make an exception,”

“Do you think they know of my existence here, in this form, in this time?”

“They’ve got to. I’ve thought about it and I didn’t realise at the time, but they told me that you would fight alongside me, against Vecna. They’ve got to know,”

“And yet they have not… warned… your coven?” Eddie was choosing his words carefully.

You shook your head. “It’s weird… Nothing makes sense… but…” But we do.

“Tomorrow then,” Eddie whispered, standing up and holding a hand out for you to take.

As he led you down the hall and into bed, you chewed your lip and tried to swallow the heaviness you felt. Like he had the previous night, Eddie climbed under the covers with you. His watchfulness wasn’t unnerving; it was comforting. You stared back at him.

Eddie sensed your anxiety. He slid closer to you, moving at a pace that you could see and stop him if you so wished. You wouldn’t, of course. He pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose along the bridge of yours. When you breathed out, he sucked in your exhale, sweet with life and longing.

If he were alive, Eddie’s heart would have been racing. He kissed your forehead, soft and gentle. Tentative. Inquisitorially. Your skin was hot against his lips. When you nuzzled closer to him, he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. Eddie could hear your heart. It was racing enough for the both of you.

It was natural. His mouth had been here before. He kissed your cheek, then with chaste, your lips. You didn’t push him away or cry out for help. You made a small happy humming noise, so sleepy and on the cusp of slumber that Eddie was apprehensive to keep you awake. One last kiss, he thought.

Your lips touched and your mouth opened, just enough to let his tongue taste you. It was over before it began. You settled and tumbled headfirst into a dream.

Eddie was still. Frozen. The taste. The taste in your mouth was not lingering lavender or buttery Hostess CupCakes. It was not tangy life or witch branded spit. It was copper and salt. Split lip red.

Then, everything all at once.

Blood of my blood.

Eddie remembered everything.

End Note: DID ANYONE GUESS THAT EDDIE'S ORIGIN STORY IS THE MYSTERY OF THE ROANOKE COLONY? If you go back and read the first part of this section (Eddie's story), there are so many clues.

Also, I am not sure if it was clear, but the person who rescued Eddie from the vampire's attack was the same person he came across in the forest that day he went for a casual AWOL walk. I like the idea that this one moment of non-violence, when they first met, led to him being rescued, which is ultimately the reason he retained his humanity.

Shout out to @courtingchaos for helping me with this chapter. And to @eddiemunsonbignaturals and @jadehowlettthewolf - I hope you liked the incorporation of your suggestions.

Lastly, put yourself in our Little Witch’s position for a moment… Let’s say you and Eddie both get your memories back… What would you do first, right there in the moment? Then, that day? And beyond that? I may or may not be writing ahead in the story, and if you have requests or ideas for what you’d like to see happen, now is the time to speak.

Love you all! xo Rhi

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#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Witch!Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader

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