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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago

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snowflakes dancing on the wind

the wistful wyvern, chapter one

a/n: this series is the second instalment i my eflorr trilogy. if you haven't already read fused with the foe, then i'd highly recommend reading that first so that you know what's going on.

summary: three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, flashbacks, alcohol consumption, kissing, dragon attack, childbirth (with very ronja rövardotter timing), blood, weapons, violence, crying

word count: 4296

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TEN YEARS AGO, ON THE THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF WINTER 848 PR

A biting chill swirled through the echoing halls of Yoslor Penitentiary that noon when two gruff guards yanked you from your cell and dragged you to the far side wing of the prison.

Passing countless doors, at last, they arrived at one with someone already on patrol on the outside. As a rusty key twisted in the lock with a reverberating click, the guard, still barely letting your feet skim the dirty floor, practically shoved you inside the chamber.

As they threw you down into a cold chair and yanked at your chains to fasten them in a strong loop smelted into the stone floor by your feet, a voice suddenly caught your ears and caused your squinting eyes to flicker up.

“Easy, boys! No need to drag her by the scruff of her neck as if she were a cat and not an eighteen-year-old girl,” you noticed the man already seated on the opposite side of the table, “would you please uncuff her?” he requested with an outstretched hand, a command, to your surprise, the guards obeyed, “thank you,” he leaned back in his seat as the manacles fell from your sore wrists.

Rubbing the angry marks wrapped around your joints, a shiver ran through you as you saw the cloud of your exhale clear in the air.

When the guards had settled on either side of the exit behind you, the blonde stranger opposing you tilted his head and asked, “do you know who I am?”

“Should I know who you are?” your gaze lifted from your wrists and met his, “look man,” you sighed heavily, “if I at some point stole something from you, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t really have much of anything anymore in here,” a short and dry chuckle tied a bow on your statement.

With his stare never straying, his chin then tilted slightly as he said, “I am Steven Grant Rogers, crown prince of Eflorr,” his title rolled off his tongue with such ease as if it didn’t have any merit at all, “and you’re Y/n Y/l/n, daughter of the famed One-eyed Ollie,” he rested his forearms against the table’s edge, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Blinking back at the royal, your brows furrowed softly at the mystery of why a man such as him would pay someone like you the time of day, “…alright, uh, sure.”

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a very long time, long before your father slipped away and made you take the fall for the break-in at the Sulmier estate,” your jaw couldn’t help but clench at the memory, “you’re very talented.”

“Yeah, can you just hurry up and tell me what you want?” you grunted as your knee tensely bounced beneath the table, “they’re serving soup today for supper and I’d rather not miss it.”

Huffing out what seemed like an amused breath, the prince glanced down a moment as he announced, “I have a proposition for you,” he met your gaze once more, “either you can pay for your father’s crimes here in prison or you can come work for me,” he offered slowly, “twenty years either way, but in here you will be treated as, well, essentially an animal,” his eyes briefly flicked around the cold chamber, “whereas with me you will be just as any other warden. You will have the same rights, the same opportunities, maybe even a home by the end of it.”

“…you wanna give me a job?” you squinted back at him.

To which he simply nodded, “yes.”

“Me?” your eyebrows only seemed to knit together tighter.

“Like I said, you’re very talented. I could use someone of your skillset,” he then leaned back in his seat, “so, I’ll give you some time to decide,” he clasped his hands together in his lap, “if you don’t show up at Fort Borün before all the snow has melted, then let’s just say that you wouldn’t be able to get very far with the bounty there’ll be on your head.”

The heavy ivory pelts that made up your cloak billowed around your frame as the piercing wind whirled it around. You had to lean forward a bit to even make any headway in the howling blizzard that coursed around you. Icy snowflakes struck the upper part of your features that the tugged-up scarf didn’t cover.

Squinting in the snowstorm as you crested the hill and walked under the archway, you glanced above and spotted icicles hanging from the drawn-up portcullis.

As you glanced around the courtyard and the snow-dusted castle looming in the background, your feet soon carried you over towards a pair of bundled-up wardens posted outside a door.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the lewd joke one of them was halfway through telling, “could any of you–”

But it wasn’t till the soldier to the right jumped and yelped, “ah, by Apa!” that it occurred to you just how camouflaged your frosty visage had been in the blizzard.

“Holy fuck!” the other one clutched his heart after nearly drawing the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Oh gods, sorry. Thought you were a snowman some fucking pixies had put a curse on,” the first knight, whose head was warmed by a thick knitted cap, steadied his breathing with a short laugh, “what do you need?”

Glancing between them, you asked, “could you point me in the direction of Master Tully’s office?”

“Ah,” the beanie-wearing warden nodded, “you’re a new recruit?”

Stifling a laugh, you tilted your head and huffed, “you could say that.”

“I’ll show you,” the dark-haired one gestured, “come with me.”

“Thanks,” you offered him a small smile as he then held the door behind them open for you to enter first.

The dining hall of the bustling barracks that you entered nearly gave you whiplash with the warm contrast it had to the freezing environment you’d just been trudging through for weeks. The fireplace down on the far wall warmed the interior and lit up the faces of the soldiers halfway through their meals.

As you pulled back your snow-dusted hood and tugged your frosty scarf down to expose your nose and mouth, your palm attempted to brush some of the flakes off of you.

“He’s right over there,” your guide pointed to the balding man sitting alone at a table in the corner of the chamber, before he disappeared from your side and joined some comrades on a long bench, sneakily stealing a chunk of bread from one of their bowls.

Slowly stepping closer to the older man, hunched over some parchments as he dipped and softened a crusty piece of bread in his stew, you carefully croaked, “master Tully?”

“Aye?” he lifted his gaze to find you.

“Hi, I was told to come talk to you,” you stepped closer and reached out your hand, “I’m Y/n, I don’t know if you–”

“Ah, yes, Y/n! Great to have you on board, lass,” his gruff hand swiftly gave yours a shake, “you must be tired after that long journey, so why don’t you grab a bowl,” he briefly pointed to the humble buffet off to the side, “have a wee rest, and then we’ll sit down and discuss everything after that, yeah?”

Offering him a light nod, you agreed, “sounds good, sir.”

As you wandered over to fill up a bowl, Tully waved over the warden who’d shown you the way.

“Barnes?”

Swiftly, the soldier rose from his seat, “yes, sir?”

“Go show Y/n her quarters,” Tully returned his attention towards his stew.

Barnes’ dark brows then knitted together, “who’s Y/n?” to which his commander simply pointed with the hand still clutching a chunk of bread, “oh…” the warden’s glance followed the trail, “right…” before raising his voice to catch your ears, “oi, snow!” you didn’t turn around even as he neared, “hey!”

Dragging the curve of a spoon from your lips when you finally noticed his stare, you finally perked up, “who, me?” and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah you,” he didn’t slow down as he gestured for you to shadow him, “come.”

“Oh, uh,” with the bowl of stew still in your gasp, you tried not to spill as you scurried to keep up, “my name is actually Y/n,” you corrected him.

Halting his step momentarily, he turned and reached out an inked hand for you to shake, “Bucky,” a small smirk tugged at his lips as your eyes finally got the chance to wash over his visage now that his striking features weren’t veiled by a blizzard, “welcome aboard, snow.”

PRESENT DAY

You felt like somehow you should have predicted that this would be your welcome home greeting. That this striking heartbreak could have somehow been prevented if you’d only remembered when training was usually held.

It was just rubbing salt into the wound you’d been trying so fiercely to mend. Yet, it was still there, open and festering, bleeding till you nearly passed out. You couldn’t start doing that again, purposely seeking out the salt just to feel something, just to for a single second feel good before reality settled in again. Perhaps your timing had been on purpose, perhaps your subconscious had just been so strong that it had forced you to return home right at the time that practice was held in the middle of the courtyard, and none other than Bucky stood in the centre, shirtless and glistening with sweat, as he ran the newcomers through a drill, sparring with each and every one of them till they yielded.

You tried to get your feet to move again, you truly did, but you couldn’t keep walking past, couldn’t look away, could barely even breathe as he moved like water through the trainees.

But then suddenly, as your fiddling fingers had found the long, braided leather cord wrapped nearly a dozen times around your wrist to form a bracelet, the playful comment that left Bucky’s lips to egg the recruits on fell short, as his ocean eyes flickered up to find you, only worsening the bittersweet agony you were in.

THREE YEARS AGO, ON THE SEVENTY-SECOND DAY OF AUTUMN 855 PR

“Oh, wow,” Bucky swiftly lowered his goblet from his lips and exclaimed as his stare found you, right as you passed over the threshold and entered the bustling ballroom, “holy shit.”

Closing the short distance between you as he was standing off to the side, your skin prickled at his alarm, “what?”

“No, just–, you’re in a dress,” his gaze danced across the emerald silk draped around your form, the fabric’s shade made you stand out amidst all of the warm harvest fest decorations, “never thought I’d see the day…”

“Well, they aren’t really that practical in our line of work, so–”

“Oh, I beg to differ…” he smirked, taking a sip of wine which by the looks of it was in no way his first cup, “I think you should always be dressed like this…” slowly stepping closer, his stare continued to lick you up in a way it never had before, “especially with a neckline as low cut as that,” as his eyes brashly dipped to your cleavage, your hand couldn’t help but shoot up to tug it up a bit more, a nervous instinct that only conjured a deep chuckle within his chest, “happy harvest fest to me.”

With cheeks burning hotter than the sun, you coughed out, “you��, uh, you look good as well.”

“Oh, yeah?” he cheekily cocked a brow and leaned in a bit closer, causing your spine to press up against the wall behind you, “how good?”

As your heart fluttered and nearly flew out of your chest, you heard yourself sputter, “oh, well, I mean, you always look good, you just–, uh…” your words then poofed away into nothing as he nonchalantly tugged a stray piece of hair behind your ear and let his touch linger on your heated cheek, “uhm…”

“I just what, snow?” he purred, and you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips.

“You–… you–…”

But before your wildest dreams could come true, an individual accidentally bumped into Bucky and lodged him far enough away from you to snuff out your hopes of the taste of his lips.

“Wow,” the guy briefly clapped Bucky’s wide shoulder, “sorry, mate.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled as the fella went on his way. Raising up his goblet for another sip, he then turned his attention back to you, “so,” his grin was still bright on his features, “you gonna let me dance with you tonight?”

“Dance?” your eyes grew wide, “oh, y-yeah,” you tried your best, though still failed to sound casual, “sure, if you want to.”

“Great,” he held your gaze a moment longer before saying, “I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” though there was now a decent enough distance betwixt you two, you still stood virtually plastered against the wall.

“Alright,” he breathed as he began to back up, offering your gown one last glance before he disappeared, “that dress…” his head gently shook from side to side as a long exhale flowed from his lungs, “gods, you look way too hot tonight, it’s not fair.”

When his visage was no longer in sight, you slumped down a bit and took a generous breather, the grin on your face nearly making your cheeks ache.

After your pulse had settled back from the nervous butterfly he had transformed it into, a fellow warden spotted you and shouted.

“Hey, Y/n!” he waved for you to come over and join the little cluster he was on the edge of, “you’re still here! I thought you’d left already with lord fancy pants or whatever.”

“Lord Witherington, and yeah, it’s first in the morning that the ship leaves port,” you walked up to him.

“Well, at least you get to enjoy one last harvest fest extravaganza before becoming a babysitter.”

“Hey, he is doing important research up in Efira, in areas that haven’t been explored since Rimesunder’s demise,” you raised a slightly defensive hand as you noted the historical significance, “it’s an honour to protect him.”

“Yeah, yeah, honour and all that crap,” he sighed light-heartedly as he raised his mug up to his lips, “but you still have time to get seriously fucked up tonight.”

“So that I can be both seasick and hungover tomorrow?”

“So that you can for once cut loose and have one last fun night before you leave!”

Marinating on his point a moment, your thoughts couldn’t help but float away to Bucky.

What if tonight was the night? What if you just finally took the leap and told him how you felt?

Then, like a clock arm clicking into the new hour, you made your decision.

“Give me that,” you grabbed the drink out of his hands before he could take another sip.

“Wow, that’s what I’m talking about,” the soldier cheered as you swiftly downed the strong brew, “yeah!”

“Gods,” your face screwed up when you swallowed the last gulp, “that’s disgusting. What is that?”

“My uncle’s mead.”

“Urgh,” the sickly sweet taste burned on your tongue.

“Yeah, he’s not that good at it,” he accepted the mug as you passed it back in his grasp, “but it’ll sure get you pissed in two sips or less.”

Hoping that the half tankard you’d downed would grant you the courage you sought, you glanced around the ballroom, “I gotta–, uh, did you see where Buck went?” and when he then pointed out towards the main hallway, you offered him a small smile, “thanks,” before disappearing down that way.

You felt like you were gonna be sick as you walked through the crowds. But if it was from the nerves or the mead that was already making you dizzy, that you weren’t sure of.

As you searched the castle, carefully poking your head into drawing rooms and narrow hallways, you found yourself anxiously muttering just beneath your breath.

“…I just thought you should know that I like you–, no, not like that…” you shook your head at your tongue-tied attempt at figuring out how you’d profess to him, “James, I have been in love with you since the day I met you–, no, that’s stupid, I never call him James, that would just be weird–”

Your murmuring then hushed as you turned down a secluded hallway and spotted the very warden that you had combed the palace for, down towards the end of it.

The only thing was, he wasn’t alone.

Sliding deeper into the shadows, you couldn’t spare yourself the heartache and not look.

Bucky’s lips were attached to the long neck of some leggy blonde. Her quiet whimpers echoed against the fortress walls as he felt her up and surely littered her skin with heated lavender marks.

Suddenly, they shifted, turning till Bucky’s back was pressed up against the walls and, to your surprise, now no longer obscured by his bulky physique, another lady, a redhead, appeared beside the hickey-adored one.

“So,” the redhead bit her lip as she slid her palm down to pet the palpable tent in his pants, “are you gonna show us to your chambers or what?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly nodded, “yes I am,” before seizing their hands, “right this way,” they then stumbled further down the dark hallway till they disappeared from your sight, leaving you frozen in the engulfing shadows with tears silently streaming down your face.

PRESENT DAY

“Snow?” his eyes grew as wide as his grin, “gods, it is you!” Bucky then all but forgot about the training session he was in the middle of teaching and crossed the courtyard, “it’s really you!” once his brisk stride reached you, he plucked you up into his brawny arms and spun you around, “you’re back!”

As soon as your feet touched the ground again, you took a large step back, though hated how the distance gave you a better view of his naked torso.

“Hi, Bucky,” you uttered, readjusting the bag strung over your back.

Why did his touch still have to make your heart flutter?

“Three years,” he placed a wide palm on your shoulder, “three fucking years!”

Three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

“Yeah, you–, uh,” you swallowed the thickness of emotions that peeked through in your tone, “you grew a beard.”

“And you still look exactly the same…” his gaze washed over you as a soft sigh flowed from his lungs, “gods, I’ve missed you,” he then tilted his head and asked, “you missed me?”

“I–,” blinking back into the stormy sea of his eyes, you felt your frame begin to tremble at the feelings that were still as alive as ever, “uhm…” averting your gaze, you had to get away before everything burst, “I need to go report to the king,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” his electric touch slid from your shoulder, “last I saw, he and the queen were in the blue drawing room. You haven't met her yet! She’s kind, you’ll like her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you refused to look back at him as you turned towards the main entrance to the castle.

And as you began to walk away, you heard his voice call after you, “really is good to have you back, snow!”

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a fleeting gasp escaped you as you saw the queen by the open window, shooting arrows after the beast that whirled outside.

“Your majesty,” you exclaimed as your eyes briefly flickered to her pregnant belly, “there you are!” you then swiftly crossed the room to yank open the small servant’s door, “this way!”

Reluctantly, the royal stepped back from the window, smoke and ash gushing into the castle from the opening, and followed you up the revealed stone spiral staircase.

As you rushed up the tower, your glances didn’t just dart back to the queen, only a few paces behind you, but every time you passed one of the narrow windows, your vision couldn’t help but catch the chaos down below.

The stubborn dragon, that had plagued the town of Borün for two whole years now, had returned.

With daggers still tight in your grasp, you tried not to think about the people you knew to be down there in the fray, wonder if they had all been burned to a crisp, but instead attempted to shake it off and focus on your mission at hand. The king had commanded you to flee the fight and protect his wife and unborn child.

A glint of fire reflected in the queen’s eyes as you glanced back at her to find her pace halted and her palm clutched on her stomach as she stifled a groan.

“My queen,” you dropped back down a step closer to her, “are you–”

“I’m fine,” she waved you off and drew in a shaky breath, “keep going, I’m right behind you.”

Soon at the top of the tower, you pushed the door open and held it for the noble to enter, your glance though darting out the window as she passed.

But when a low groan seeped from her throat, your gaze darted back to her with worry, “alright, that really doesn’t sound that good,” the door slammed behind you as you sheathed your weapons and stepped closer to her, “did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m–, ah! I’m alright,” she uttered through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as one hand reached out for the wall while the other stayed on her belly, “fuck…”

Glancing down towards her hand as it rubbed in slow, soothing circles, your eyes then widened, “are you–… your majesty, a-are you–”

“In labour?” her eyes barely opened as she met your tense gaze, “yeah. My waters broke a while ago.”

“Oh gods!” now you truly wished you’d just stayed down with the dragon, “now? Here? I–, I–, wha–, can’t you just turn it off?”

Letting both her quiver and bow slide off her frame and drop to the floor, she let out a strained exhale, “not really how it works.”

“I–, I–, okay, I don’t know what to do–”

“That’s fine,” her arm then reached out for your support, “I do,” you carefully helped her further into the chamber before she sank down a wall till she was seated on the floor, her pale yellow gown bunching around her legs, “alright, I’m gonna need one of your knives when its time to cut the umbilical cord.”

“O-okay,” eyes still wide, you checked your belt just in case they’d mysteriously disappeared in your panic.

Noticing the terrified expression on your face, the queen’s head tilted slightly as she said, “Y/l/n, please don’t pass out on me, I need you here with me.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna pass out,” you rushed to reply, though weren’t completely convinced yourself, “I just–, w-what do I do? Do I do anything?”

Raising up her fingers, she panted, “take my hand.”

“Alright, yes, of course,” you swiftly grabbed her palm.

You had no idea how much time passed, if your hand would eventually fall off for how hard she was squeezing it, or even how many times the royal’s groans, which threatened to morph into screams, reverberated off the palace walls and mixed with the chaos rumbling from outside.

Then suddenly, an echo shot through the castle, “dove!” and though she couldn’t find it in her to yell back, the familiar voice visibly thawed something within the queen.

“Up here!” you yelled as loudly as you could.

Swiftly, the door was kicked down, and in stormed a honey-haired man, whose bloodstained shield and stout axe promptly dropped to the floor with a loud clang.

“Steve!” the queen cried out through the relieved smile that softened her pained expression, “you’re here!”

“Yeah,” he looked as if a feather could have knocked him over, “I’m here, I’m here,” the king then rushed to switch places with you, kneeling beside his wife and clutching her hand in both of his, “what fucking timing our daughter has,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of him as he bought the back of her palm up to his lips and planted a chased peck upon it, “not even born yet and she already wants to join the fray,” he uttered, conjuring a slight laugh to crack through her pain, “a real fighter, just like her mom.”

Gazing up at him, a sombreness suddenly washed over her features as she then murmured, “my love, if I don’t–”

“No,” he swiftly cut her off, “that’s not gonna happen, you hear me? History won’t repeat itself, you’ve done everything in your power to make that so. You can do this, dove. I know you can.”

He held her hand through it all, took the sting as each one of her nails broke his skin and every ear-piercing curse she threw at him, till a new life was suddenly in the room, laying against the exposed skin on her mother’s chest and wailing about the sudden change in scenery.

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut

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stupidphototricks · 5 months ago

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Some quotes I like from Johnny and the Dead. I'll again recommend the Johnny Maxwell trilogy for any Terry Pratchett fans, it's a bit dated, and lacks witches and wizards, and takes place on a boring spherical planet, but still there's good stuff.

And the sky above it was a glorious blue, which was pretty unusual for Blackbury, where most of the time the sky was that odd, soapy color you'd get if you lived in a Tupperware box. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"My greatest trick involved getting out of a locked sack underwater while wearing twenty feet of chain and three pairs of handcuffs." "Gosh, how often did you do that?" said Johnny. "Nearly once," said Mr. Vicenti. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

Wobbler was banned from the computers because of an incident involving a library terminal, the telephone connection to the main computer, another telephone line to the computer at East Slate Air Base ten miles away, another telephone line to a much bigger computer under a mountain somewhere in America, and almost World War Three. At least that's what Wobbler said. The Assistant Information Officers said it was because he got chocolate in the keyboard. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

There was a feeling, like-- --like on an airplane when it's about to land, and his ears went "pop." But it was happening with his brain, instead. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

You never knew about people, like you never knew how deep a pond was because all you saw was the top. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"It's wrong to think that the past is something that's just gone. It's still there. It's just that you've gone past. If you drive through a town, it's still there in the rearview mirror. Time is a road, but it doesn't roll up behind you. Things aren't over just because they're past." -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"Of all the forces in the universe, the hardest to overcome is the force of habit. Gravity is easy-peasy by comparison." -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

Time passes everywhere. But days and nights are little local things that happen only to people who stay in one place. If you go fast enough, you can overtake the clock... -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"I believe it's very hard to have fun in Iceland without fish being involved in some way." -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

Making a fuss about cards and heavy metal and going on about Dungeons and Dragons stuff because it's got demon gods in it is like guarding the door when it is really coming up through the floorboards. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"Anyway, there's four of us, after all." "That just means something bad can happen four times," said Wobbler. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

"Did I see them waving?" said Mrs. Liberty. "And particling, I shouldn't wonder," said the Alderman. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

Johnny blinked. And looked around at the world. It was, not to put too fine a point on it, wonderful. Which wasn't the same as nice. It wasn't even the same as good. But it was full of... stuff. You'd never get to the end of it. It was always springing new things on you... -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #johnny maxwell #johnny and the dead #quotes

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novaksupremacy · 4 months ago

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Staking A Claim - Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

hello lovelies, something about leaving these smutty little snippets as a Two-Parter just didn't sit right with me so I decided to give you a little more and give it a third leg and round off the trilogy❤️ I hope you enjoy your Sunday morning smut, and I will see you on the other side of my linear algebra with the next chapter of TVOA

just pure unadulterated, can't control themselves, smut

Word Count: 2389

by PKJ @novaksupremacy

Casey was internally screaming; her body was burning. Yes, they had had sex before they left for work this morning and probably would again before they even sat down for dinner when they got home but she couldn’t breathe. She and Alex had agreed after getting caught by Donnelly twice yesterday they needed to be more careful at the office. Neither of them could really afford to be written up for their indiscretions and Liz rarely bluffed. The redhead was trying her best to concentrate but she was uncomfortable. She sat at her desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to find a position where she wasn’t throbbing for Alex. “Focus, Novak.” She muttered to herself, trying to write up all her case notes for tomorrow’s court sessions. The ADA lasted about ten minutes before she threw her pen down on the desk and stood up, she paused for a second.

“Fuck it,” she shook her head, “it can’t hurt to just go see Alex, she may need help, she may have something else to keep my mind off wanting to screw her against every piece of furniture in the building.” At this rate the prosecutor was so aroused that her suit pants were damp. She stormed down the hallway determined as she reached Alex’s door, leaning against the frame.

“Casey?” the blonde looked up from her paperwork, “You okay my darling?” she furrowed her brow, she could tell there was an air of concern on Casey’s face.

“I was just wondering if you had anything for me to do. Busy work?” She pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders.

“Casey,” the Bureau Chief giggled, “don’t you have briefs you should be working on?”

The redhead stepped inside and closed the door, “Oh I’m working on my briefs.” She grumbled as she walked up to the desk, “My boxer briefs. Alex, I can’t do this. Being told I can’t touch you has made it so much worse.” She sighed in frustration. “I feel like I am dying.”

“It cannot be quite that serious.” Alex’s blue eyes stared into Casey’s over the top of her glasses.

“Baby, it is that serious.” She walked around and sat on the edge of her girlfriend’s desk, practically pouting.

The blonde swiveled her chair to the side to face Casey and looked at her sternly. “We’re going to get fired. You can not possibly need it that badly.” She placed her hands on her lover’s knees in an attempt to comfort her.

The minute Alex’s hands touched her body, the redhead let out a tiny moan.

The chief’s eyebrow went up, as did her libido, “Fuck,” she sighed hanging her head. “Did you at least make sure that the door was locked?” She accepted defeat.

“The second I walked in,” she pulled Alex up to her by her cardigan, flush against her, wrapping her legs around the blonde’s waist. She moaned again the second their bodies came into contact. “You don’t understand baby,” she whispered in her girlfriend’s ear, “my body aches for you.” She made sure to elongate on the word “aches” and then nibbled on Alex’s neck.

“I bet it does,” Alex whispered, she grabbed Casey by the hips and pulled her even tighter to her body, “Who else is going to make you make all those gorgeous sounds as you fall apart, hmm?” she ran her finger over the outside of the redhead’s pants, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. Casey quivered at her touch, a shudder running up her spine. “Who else is going to turn Daddy into a shivering, dripping wet mess of her own making, begging to do anything I say? Hmm?” She ran the backside of her long, slender fingers down the ADA’s cheek.

The redhead couldn’t even form a complete word, let alone a strung together a sentence. Her mouth fell open to speak but all she could manage were little gasps and sighs. She let out a sultry giggle, her hand tangled in the blonde’s hair. She tightened her grip and pulled Alex’s lips to hers, her tongue taking plight on her lover’s. She wasn’t kidding when she said her body ached, it was almost as if it was physically painful not to be in contact with Alex. She had never felt this connected to another person, she couldn’t explain it but she could feel it.

As they continued to kiss, Casey finally regained a little control over her senses, slid her hand up under the blonde’s skirt, “I think you may have forgotten who’s in charge in this power dynamic.” She grinned, kissing her girlfriend again, running her fingers softly up and down, teasing as she reached the top of her inner thigh, “I guess Daddy needs to remind you who’s good girl you are.” She whispered in a soft growl causing Alex’s eyes to grow dark and her breath to hitch. “You are still my good girl, right?”

The blonde nodded, her jaw fell slack and she pressed the side of her face up against Casey’s, “Daddy,” she whispered against the redhead’s cheek, “We can’t, we’re going to get suspended. We could lose our jobs.” Alex was trying so hard to resist but she already knew, she knew she would go to jail before she would be able to resist Casey. She sighed, “You sure the door is locked?” The redhead nodded, her breath shaky, as she carefully hiked up the blonde’s skirt. She stood up, repositioned herself in Alex’s chair lightly grasping at her thighs and pulled the beautiful woman down on to her lap.

Alex’s skirt was hoisted up around her hips, “Then take what’s yours,” she whimpered quietly. She placed her hands on the younger ADA’s cheeks and kissed her gently but firmly, “Remind me who I belong to.” She moaned quietly against her lips.

Casey slid her hand down to the blonde’s thighs, sliding red lace to the side and running two fingers through her lover’s more than apparent arousal. “Mmmm,” she moaned softly, “Hail to the Chief.” A lustful smile danced across her face. She slid two fingers into Alex’s wet heat, deciding quickly this wasn’t enough and stretched her out with one more.

This elicited a strangled cry of satisfaction as her girlfriend’s blue eyes grew wide, she needed this feeling to last. The blonde took Casey’s freehand and brought it to her throat as she began to grind against the redhead’s other hand. She kept letting go of the back of the chair, placing her hand over Casey’s and getting her to tighten her grip who would oblige for a few seconds and then loosen it again causing Alex to get more forceful.

“Baby I’m going to hurt you.” The ADA tilted her head and cooed, she was trying to comply with her girlfriend’s needs but she also was afraid to take their escapades too far.

“Then hurt me,” Alex groaned, “I trust you.” She clamped down on the redhead’s hand as she bounced up and down against her fingers.

Casey nodded and squeezed tighter. She gave just enough leeway that Alex could still get air and she sped up her thrusts as her thumb pressed against her clit, “That’s it baby, just like that beautiful.”

This made the blonde absolutely feral, the confidence that exuded from her lover when she actually got a little rough had her soaked. She was already dripping and she wasn’t even there yet. The hand she was using to tighten the redhead’s grip was now sliding down into suit pants to a very, very soaked Casey. She made it a point tease her slowly first, pulling her lover’s slick up and around her swollen clit, which caused the redhead to squeeze down harder on Alex’s neck. She felt herself getting closer and penetrated Casey trying to match pace.

The redhead’s body went hot, her moans getting louder, her hand tight to her lover’s throat. “Alexandra,” she whimpered, she knew how crazy it made her when she used her full name, “I need you to come for me.” She pulled the blonde down closer by her throat and bit down in the little spot between her neck and her jaw, never letting go, never losing pace.

Alex could feel her orgasm building, her perky breasts bouncing in the confines of her shirt, barely getting any air—just the way she wanted it. Casey was absolutely ravaging her, she was right on the edge when she heard it, a familiar voice coming down the hall. “Fuck,” she said almost angrily, “Baby don’t stop.” Might as well go for broke she figured, her mewls getting louder as she could hear Liz Donnelly getting closer to her office door. “That’s it Daddy, right there, just like that. Almost there. Fuck, Casey.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Liz stopped in her tracks as she got closer to the office, “this is insanity.”

“Mmm, that’s it Casey, right there.” Alex continued whimpering, the redhead’s hand still tight around her throat, her fingers starting to leave a mark. She was trying so hard to concentrate, almost at the end of her undoing, but she could still hear the chatter in the hallway. “And I swear to G-d Liz, if you touch that damn fucking door handle before I finish, I’m going to lose it!” she shouted as she slammed her hand down on the desk and pointed at the door.

The judge who was just about to try to barge in despite the locked door, guns blazing, stopped before her hand hit the handle.

The redhead who didn’t realize until that moment that Donnelly was outside the office almost halted her ministrations but managed to compose herself and fuck her Bureau Chief into an orgasm, shocked but turned on by how Alex basically told Liz to go to hell in order to make sure she didn’t stop.

The blonde took a second after unravelling to compose herself and then gently dismounted the hazel-eyed woman’s lap, giving her a passionate kiss before adjusting her skirt and walking towards the door.

“Ahh,” Casey tried to raise an objection, as Alex had her very large handprint across her throat, but the blonde waved her off.

She swung the door open, trying not to let on that she was still shaking from aftershocks, “What?! What do you need Liz? And before you say a word let me remind you that you’re not actually my boss anymore. I do not answer to you and this office has my name on it, not to mention you don’t have an appointment.” Liz opened her mouth to speak but Alex held up her finger and silenced her, “What are you going to do Liz? Run and tell Jack McCoy I perform cunnilingus on a hot redhead in my office from time to time? I would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. So, if there’s no actual pressing matter, I’m going to close this door now.”

Liz looked over Alex’s shoulder to see a very out of breath Casey in the Bureau Chiefs chair, disheveled and panting, “Just passing by, thought I’d say hello.” Liz scowled.

“I’ll see you later Liz,” Alex rolled her eyes and went to close the door, seeing a very dumbfounded Olivia holding a large stack of DD-5s and backing up back towards the bullpen.

“Goodnight, Counselors.” Donnelly cleared her throat and turned to walk away.

As she continued down the hallway Don Cragen was walking towards her, hands in his pockets. “Evening Liz.”

“One day, Donald, one fucking day, that’s all I want. ONE!” She fumed as she continued passed him.

“O-ok,” he said confused, pulling his hands out of his pockets, holding his palms out, and watched as she continued for the door. “Goodnight Liz.” He called after her and shook his head.

Back in her office, Alex walked back over to Casey and got down on her knees, pulling the redhead’s slacks down. “Now, where were we.”

“Mmm,” the ADA quirked her brow, her green eyes glistening, “I believe I heard you say something about cunnilingus?” she bit down on her lip.

“I did,” the blonde breathed quietly, she leaned up for second to get next to the redhead’s ear, “Do you still ache for me?” she smirked, mocking the way Casey whined earlier and then sank back down to her knees.

Casey went weak, her excitement was already spilling everywhere, “Mhmm,” she nodded, “Yes.” She whispered.

Alex dove face first into her lover’s center without hesitation. Her tongue making slow, languid circles over her clit, pushing down with near constant pressure. She went back and forth between smaller and larger circles as the redhead sighed and gasped, letting out all of the little noises Alex loved. She looked up at her, watching, delighted in the redhead’s responses. Her eyes were glossy, full of desire, locked on to her girlfriend’s.

“Mmm, you know,” Casey ran her hand through her girlfriend’s hair, keeping her gaze, “You look so fucking gorgeous with my hand around your throat, but you look even better with your head between my thighs.”

It didn’t take the blue eyed adonis very long to send Casey unravelling with her skillful tongue and resilient jaw. Lapping up everything she pulled from her lover, whimpering into her heat. She added two fingers, pumping fast and hard, curling her hand as her fingers stroked against Casey’s g-spot. She stifled the redhead’s shouts with well-timed kisses. Swallowing all of her wanton moans.

The ADA took a few minutes to come down but after some deep breaths and a satisfied hum, got up and put herself back together.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Alex grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into a tender but burning kiss. “I can breathe now, and I have briefs to write.” The redhead smiled into her kiss and then stepped back. “What you did was a real service to the American people, I now can continue to fight for justice with a clear head. You’re my hero Bureau Chief Alexandra Cabot.” Casey chuckled, fixing the lapels of Alex’s jacket. “Meet you back here at seven for dinner?” She winked, lingering for a minute to drink in everything that was Alex Cabot, and then headed back towards her office.

#casey novak #alex cabot #svu #law and order svu #calex #casey novak smut #alex cabot smut #alex cabot x casey novak

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theturncoattournament · 4 months ago

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Do you love a character with a good redemption arc? Or a corruption arc? Or even just seeing the kind of storylines that emerge from a character who was formerly aligned with an enemy side decide to join a different one?

Then welcome to...

The Turncoat Tournament!

This is a tournament for characters who have changed sides at some point in the story. It can be from good to bad, bad to good, or from one morally ambiguous side to a different morally ambiguous side, as long as the change in allegiance is still clear. Characters can change sides multiple times, and ultimately end up returning to their original side, and still qualify for the tournament!

Due to the subject of the tournament itself being inherently spoiler-y, I will by default not be tagging posts with spoiler warnings. However, below I do have a list of all the pieces of media that have characters in the tournament; if you see something on this list that you do want spoiler tagged, please let me know, and I’ll start tagging it with spoiler warnings!

Media list:

(Arranged in alphabetical order)

2001: A Space Odyssey/2010: The Year We Made Contact

Ace Attorney/The Great Ace Attorney

Animation vs Minecraft

Arthurian legend

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Bamse - Världens starkaste björn

Bones

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Bungo Stray Dogs

Centaurworld

Chess The Musical

The Chronicles of Narnia

Code Geass

Critical Role (Campaign 2)

Cult of the Lamb

DC Comics (Batfamily, Flash characters, Shazam family)

Devil May Cry

Doctor Who

Dog Man

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Dragon Ball Z

The Evillious Chronicles

Fable III

Fairy Tail

Fake Princess

Farscape

Final Fantasy XIV

Game of Thrones

Genshin Impact

The Good Place

Gravity Falls

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

Hannibal

The Hunger Games

I Expect You to Die 3

The Incredibles

Just Dance

Kingdom Hearts

Kinnporsche

Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Kirby series

The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords manga

The Librarians

The Locked Tomb

Machineries of Empire

Maleficent

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Marvel Comics (X-Men, Avengers)

Megamind

Merlin

Mistborn

My Little Pony: Equestria Girls

Nan Quest

Once Upon A Time

One Piece

The Owl House

Pandora Hearts

Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Person of Interest

The Pirates of Penzance

Pirates of the Caribbean

Portal 2

Power Rangers: Dino Fury

Pretty Cure (Fresh Precure, Kira Kira Precure a la Mode, Suite Precure, Hugtto Precure)

Provost’s Dog

Princess Tutu

Raya and the Last Dragon

RWBY

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Smallville

Sonic the Hedgehog OVA

Soul Eater

Soul series (Soul Calibur/Edge)

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Star Wars (Prequels, Original trilogy, Rebels, Clone Wars, Knights of the Old Republic)

Steven Universe

The Stormlight Archive

Sunless Sea

Tangled: The Series

Teen Titans (2003 series)

Teen Wolf

Terminator films

Transformers

Tron Legacy

Vorkosigan Saga

Warrior Cats

Wings of Fire

Wolf 359

Worm

Young Justice

Yu Yu Hakusho

#tournaments #tournament announcement #the turncoat tournament #turncoat tournament #brackets #tumblr polls #polls #television #film #books #comics #anime #manga #video games #pinned post #turncoat pinned post

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amymaleneart · 6 months ago

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"The Mail Service Trilogy."

Here's part three of the trilogy of @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU! Was going to do some sort of feather-care, but than I thought of something better. (*tiny evil laughter*)

Enjoy!

You walk down the long private hallway of the casino, trying your best to carry the oversized package addressed to Eclipse without dropping it. Thankfully it’s not heavy, but it sure is a little cumbersome.

You would have already opened the package to remove its contents, as it was a part of your job to screen everything that comes in for the stars. Except the way your manager had pretty much busted into your office and tossed the package on your desk. Then demanded you to take it to the “prissy oversized drama-king” right away, didn’t give you much of an opportunity to make sure it was safe. Even though he did assure you that it is all safe and okay, he continues to yell and barates the most seeked after peacock about how he has been hounding him about this particular package. Then he starts yelling at you about how the mailroom wasn’t doing their job and should have taken it to you in the first place, even though you have nothing to do with it.

It seems ever since you got promoted to becoming their main handler, the manager seems to take any opportunity to express his frustrations and anger out on you whenever they do something he doesn’t approve of. Often when no one else is around.

You wipe away your incoming tears onto your shoulders as you try your best to shake off the underserved berating. But there isn’t anything you can do to change that you guess. As far as you know, there’s no one else higher than your boss besides the owner, and you know he doesn’t come here that often to be on any kind of name basis with you. You also know that HR is friends with your boss, so best to just leave–“Omph!”

While lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize someone was in front of you as you collided into them. Fortunately you didn’t drop the package, but instead started to fall backwards towards the ground. You already accepted your fate of getting a nasty headache from hitting your head onto the ground. Yet somehow you find you’re half suspended in the air as you feel then see a large bronze leather glove cradles the small of your back. You follow up the well muscular arm until you are face to black and hot pink face of the giant peacock harpy known as Eclipse.

He purrs as his amber eyes drinks you up like you are his favorite cocktail. “Careful now, my darling little gloaming star. You could have hurt your precious self and then someone would need to take care of you.” He leans in closer, “Although, I would be more than happy to take care of you anytime, my dear little handler.”

That’s when Eclipse notices how puffy and watery your eyes are, his demeanor changes from his overly flirtatious self to one of concern. Of course you don’t notice this because you are still reeling in from being flustered.

“I-I-I…” you swallow, “I-I have a p-package for yoooooou!?” You nearly screech out the last word as he tosses you over his shoulder, like you were fresh kill, causing you to drop the large box. “Eclipse!” You gasp as you try to hold onto his back without pulling at any of his orange feathers. “Wha-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer as he bends down to pick up the box with his free hand, then continues down the hallway towards your original destination, his private dressing room.

As you enter, you cry, “E-eclipse, please. P-put me d-down.”

“In a moment, my sweet little honeysuckle.” He tosses the package into his room as he turns around to shut and locks his door. You’re not sure you like where this is going. You know him to be the biggest flirt between the three of them, but you never thought he would outright kidnap you! Next he flungs you off his shoulder into his open arms, holding you up high so you are face-level with his oranges, reds and pinks feather-framed face. You found yourself squirming in his gentle embrace, having a hard time looking at his adorable face.

“Are you already?” he asks, his tenor-like voice entering into your soul like a pleasant evening breeze.

“I-I am f-fine,” you say, still refusing to look at him. The last thing you want is for him to worry about you.

He hums as he continues to observe you. You do recall that the name he had as a chick was “the watcher” and has developed these skills to the point you have no doubt he saw through your obvious lie.

“I-I was instructed by the manager to bring you this,” you say as you point at the package. “He…umm…said you really…(“Give that giant, overpriced feather duster his dumb package! I am getting really sick and tired of his cocky attitude, thinking he owns the damn place.)…need it as soon as it arrives.”

Another hum leaves his mouth as his lips turn into a half-frown, like he smells a dirty rat. He gently sets you down as if you were made of porcelain. “I’m sorry, sweet thing. If I had known he was going to give you such trouble, I would have practiced more patience if it would mean to save you from his wrath.”

You quickly look up at him, panic showing through your voice as you say, “No! No, it’s okay. He didn’t do anything—” A gloved finger was placed on your lips, instantly silently you. You stand there as you feel your face heat up in a bright blush that you’re surprised it doesn’t burn your skin.

Satisfy, Eclipse turns his attention to the partially battered package. He picks it up to remove the tape to take out its contents. He pulls out a large, rectangular piece of soft fabric that you quickly realized must be a king-sized blanket. Your eyes widen as you see the bronze color shimmer against the lights in the room. The large harpy takes two of the corners of the blanket into his hands to open up to reveal an amazing custom design of reds, hot pinks, blues, purples and bronze peacock feathers printed into the fabric. It was almost like someone tried to take his tail feathers to enchant it into this blanket.

“I had asked the manager to help me order this. Even used my own earnings though tips from the rich patrons to pay for this. But it seems I should have gone to someone more…tolerable, for help.”

Next thing you know, you are in complete darkness as Eclipse tosses the blanket on top of you. Before you could say any sort of sound, you feel large hands grab and spin you around until you are tightly wrapped up into a comfortable human burrito.

Oh My Stars! This is sooooo Soft!

Eclipse pulls down the blanket to reveal your star-struck face, causing him to laugh at how adorable you must look to him now.

“*hehehe* I knew you would look beautiful in my colors.” Eclipse proceeds to pick you up, bridal-style, and walks over to his Mayan hammock he has hanging on one side of the room. Carefully and elegantly, he turns and falls into the hanging breathable weave like he has done a million times before.

“E-eclipse? I-I really c-an’t–”

“Shhhhhhhhh. Don’t worry. You have enough time for a little break, my hardworking pheasant.”

He holds you close in his arms, ready to protect you from any danger that might come your way.

Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Over Here- Part Three: Here

#winged dca #harpy au #sun and moon fnaf #sundrop and moondrop #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #harpy dca #harpy eclipse #winged au #wine and feathers au #dca fanfic #amymaleneart writing

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lovelybeesthings · 1 year ago

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Obedient bunny 3

Chapters 1, and 2 here are the links

Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: This is the last one of the bunny trilogy!

After the events in the movie

Once Coriolanus had grown custom to his new living arrangements in the Capitol he soon started plotting how he would build his empire with the help of Dr. Volumnia.

He successfully poisoned Dean Highbottem an obstacle that passed and he was using anyone even the president and his wife believing how strong of friends he was with their son Sejanus foolish just like his son in the end believing what he wanted them to believe in the palm of his hands.

But something did linger in his mind, not Lucy Gray but a bunny he left behind a long time ago who he felt he needed to revisit, as he went to event gatherings among the elite he'd heard much about Y/n she didn't leave the publics eyes not once.

Y/n had been desired among all of her family titles, her beauty and wealth making people fight for her affection and attention left and right but from what's been rumored that she had locked up her heart from one fatal man, no one knew who.

But Coriolanus knew why and who that man was, it was him since that night he had made this bunny scared of finding another to love the way she had done with him once in her life.

The thought of his actions impacting her so well like an obedient bunny waiting for their master to return he had to see her all he had was the image of her in a nice dress and gorgeous face like a wild dream he knew when he'd see her again it feel like a fresh breath.

Sad girl

As Y/n went to gatherings and gatherings she soon became bored with it all altogether She made an appearance shining among others and was bothered by man after man to undo the curse that she had cast herself.

Since that night it felt like nobody could compare it to Coriolanuss's looks, his eyes his guard always up but when it came down to the two of them he let himself be vulnerable he was here there from Fiancd, friends, something more, back to strangers.

But it's as if she never expected it but also knew he wasn't here like she was always competing for something to win his eyes his attention she knew him she knew the way he'd stare at the Academy food acting like he wasn't hungry when he'd been starving for days and how'd she make sure to always pack a lunch for him he'd share them with grandmama and Tigris.

Was it all pretend did he put up all these acts to delude herself? She wondered to herself each night before bed at the center of the crime scene in her heart she believed that he'd open that door again and he'd be there his smile his curly blond mop locks.

But she knew it was hopeless and continued the role she had to play longing for the memory as she had built walls around her heart keeping her sweet attitude and never letting anyone she'd a tear.

Today was no different She had walked around the university in her pink winter coat with white stockings and her dress and warm boots hair straightened she made sure to keep in touch with his family, especially Tigris but when they had stopped sending letters in ended their.

Y/n entered the warm library her cheeks and ears were rosy she took out the books she needed sat down at a table began to study with some cookies always been one for sweets, shortly after the time flu by and she had lost the fight with her sleep slumbering peacefully on the table.

Coriolanus had needed to borrow a book from the university library he had huffed as when he entered the library he made sure to wrap his mother's scarf around him for the extra measure since it was freezing he soon found the book he was looking for but when he turned his head it felt Like destiny.

There she was his once-fiance the girl who was once his the one he took for granted sleeping softly hiding from the cold outside seeking slumber in the warm library he couldn't help but let a smile creep on his face as he made saddle moments as he took out a chair and sits down next down to his eyes strung upon her.

She soon made a huff in her sleep causing him to hold her chuckle scared to wake her up as she made noise in discomfort cold Corionalus took off his red coat and placed it over her hearing a noise of comfort soon her eyes began to wide open blinking yawning.

As she looked around her surroundings she saw blond moppy hair she recognized and when she looked him in the eyes her heart began to break again she swore she'd be ready for this moment but now that it was happening she wanted to run away.

“Why the face bunny I thought you be happy to see me,” he spoke with a smirk “I-I what are you doing here, your hair!” everything in her mind was disorganized even if her emotions were running around she couldn't help but smile placing her delicate hands on his face he responded with a smile

“Do you like it I mean it's not like my old look but I mean I don't have to fake my class” he responds I don't bat an eye away from his look his hair was different but he looked more like a gentleman I give a kiss of his cheek “so you do?” he answers being cocky “calm down you just look so handsome it suits you in glad to see you again?” I say.

“Really from what I've heard you've locked any romantic emotion toward someone surpisnlkg since that night I last saw you,” he says changing my mood he notices and quickly tries to fix his mistake “Hey, I didn't mean that I'm sorry I missed you too Im glad to see you again,” he says the sincerity in his voice.

I look back to give a small smile “Well are you gonna explain why in seeing you again you disappeared for a while now” I say as he sighs and begins to tell me everything (not the murdering parts lol) “I'm so sorry Coryo I can believe she just left you all alone in that cabin” I respond as I hold him close to me

“Well since I've been back I was able to improve our living conditions and get to go to university under Dr. Volmnia,” he says with a small smile making me frown as I hold his face with my hands “I'm glad to hear your life played out nicely at least the last part,” I say giving a lovely smile.

“Well, one part I want to achieve but I'm having. A hard time to make it more than a dream” he says chasing me to give a confused look and his smile just grows “I'm ready Y/n after everything I've been threw I want to have a life with you I want to be your husband” he says with confidence sending shocks my way as he gets up and on his knee pulling out a red leather box and opening it showing a diamond ring made to look like a rose my eye light up to it.

“Coryo how could you-” I say trying to figure out how much it costs I can't let him spend this much on me but he interrupts me “Y/n Will you be my wife?” he says looking at me with that stare of stare I cannot refuse I nod and kiss him as he places the ring on m finger sliding it on.

As they share this intimate moment his hands are on her hips and as she breaks the long kiss for a breath of air she looks at the window beside them “Croyo look snow falling!” She says with a sweet smile her voice like honey enlightening to the sigh as he watches her this was his destiny he’d make her his wife they’d have a family as he’d provide a life for her no man would be able to.

THE END OF THE BUNNY SEIRS!!!

#coriolanus snow x reader #reader #coriolanus snow #fanfic #tom blyth x resder #hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #fanfiction #fem reader #y/n

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airgiodslv · 2 months ago

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I skipped the July creation wrap-up because nearly everything I worked on was for challenges revealed in August. There's a lot!

Fics:

Guess That Voice: WIK Edition

KinnPorsche, Kim/Chay, rated T

Kim is grilled within an inch of his life about Wik’s personal life, his projects, and his future plans. Chay takes meticulous notes on his phone the whole time. Kim has trained with professional interrogators who are less intimidating than Chay crafting a bomb to drop on Twitter.

“It’s not for Twitter,” Chay corrects him. Kim has a short-lived moment of relief before Chay clarifies: “I’m writing Wikfic.”

(Fic Text + Podfic)

The Shadow Lyctors

Jeff Satur Cinematic Universe & The Locked Tomb Series - Tamsyn Muir, rated M

Moonshine was the cavalier primary to Sunshine, Third Saint to serve the King Undying. It is unclear whether this was his given name, or how Sunshine has memorialized him after death. Sunshine calls him ‘an Alexandrite’, referring to the branch of Sixth House cavaliers whose attractiveness and skill earned them an education in erotic poetry and a Cohort assignment, for the express purpose of finding a mate to diversify the ailing Sixth House gene pool.

Given Sunshine’s sense of humor, it is possible this was a joke.

(A fandom Wiki for a fictional book trilogy)

Podfic Triptych + Ficlet: Sunshine and Rain, written by TheCookieOfDoom, shubaka, and AirgiodSLV

Jeff Satur Cinematic Universe, Sunshine/Rain, rated T

untitled ficlet, written by TheCookieOfDoom The being coalesces from smoke and shadow.

from where the light shines, written by shubaka The Rain God discovers a man on a rooftop, lying in a pool of his own blood.

ghost light, written by AirgiodSLV On the night of Wan Ok Phansa, Sunshine dances on the Mekong River.

by the light of the sun, a remix of to have and to hold by shubaka

Jeff Satur Cinematic Universe & Wuju Bakery, Sunshine/Ghost, Sunshine/Passion, rated G

Most people forget that Sunshine is the scion of a dynasty himself, too used to thinking of him only as Prince Raon’s companion.

Passion, however, forgets very little that could prove useful to him.

hiraeth and hwyl, written & performed by The Sentient Hive (AirgiodSLV, CompassRose, ellejabell, epaulettes, kitkat50311, mahons-ondine, minnabird, sisi_rambles)

Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones & Piranesi - Susanna Clarke, rated G

You find yourself looking at a door.

It looks like an ordinary door, but you’re somehow certain that it isn’t.

In theory, you could open the door…but something warns you off.

You might not survive, if you pass through that door. You might no longer be you.

Podfics & Audio:

you could cut ties with all the lies (that you've been living in), written by Nemainofthewater

Nirvana in Fire, Lin Chen/Xiao Jingyan & Mei Changsu, rated M

“Sir Sū,” Jĭngyán said, “Forgive me, but I can’t help but feel strange referring to you in such a manner after such intimacies.”

“Ah,” said Lìn Chén, abruptly thrown out of his warm, post-coital state, “No, Your Highness is going to have to trust me on this, calling me Chángsū is really going to spoil the mood.”

Listen to the radio, audio collage of music & interviews by Jeff Satur, with art by TheCookieOfDoom

On a desolate planet under distant stars, these heroes fight against the corporations that control society. Late at night, you can hear them broadcast to each other on pirate radio frequencies, sending secret messages across the airwaves...

"Fuck it, I'm adopting her," said John Gaius, not knowing the paperwork wasn't necessary, written by Naamah_Beherit

The Locked Tomb Series - Tamsyn Muir, rated T

Gideon, a highly distinguished Cohort lieutenant, saves the day—and the girl—and then gets stuck in the lift of The Erebos with a man feeding her peanuts as if they have all the time in the world. They don't, but if he doesn't mind, then why should she?

baby I, baby I, I'm caught in the middle, written by IsleofSolitude

KinnPorsche, Kim/Chay, Chay/OMC, rated E

Seth has had threesomes before. He knows he’s great at sex—that sex with him is something Chay enjoys immensely. He and Chay have a strong relationship, he knows Chay intimately. He’s never had a third with him and an omega during a heat before, but Kim’s sort of attractive. Besides, they are in his home. There’s no reason to not be okay with it. If things go badly, he can just kick Kim out.

(the steal the show inspired threesome omegaverse inspired by a dream)

love, let my love inside go free, written by daltoneering

KinnPorsche, Kinn/Porsche, rated E

They burst to the surface gasping for breath, water clogging Porsche’s ears, distorting the brightness of Kinn’s laughter across the pool into muffled echoes along the tall glass walls of the building. He grabs for the side, lungs screaming.

“Fuck! You want to drown me?”

Kinn shows Porsche just how grateful he is for the perfect first date.

History Talking to Itself, written by Sour_Idealist

Teixcalaan Series - Arkady Martine, Mahit Dzmare/Three Seagrass, Yskandr Aghavn/Nineteen Adze/Six Direction, Past Mahit Dzmare/OFC, rated T

Twelve excerpts from Teixcalaan and from Lsel Station.

#kinnporsche #kimchay #the locked tomb #nirvana in fire #jeffcest #jeff satur cinematic universe #teixcalaan #howl's moving castle #piranesi #writing #podfic #interactive fiction #audio puzzle

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rillils · 9 months ago

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STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 3/4 (here are part 1 and part 2)

i just want to preface this by saying: as much as they tried to make this movie all about tony, and as much as they tried to no-homo the steve/bucky situation, they still somehow ended up making CACW the gayest movie in the whole cap trilogy, and that's saying something *throws confetti*

now, picking up where we left off:

aided by his friends sam and natasha, steve spends the following two years or so chasing after bucky, looking for clues as to where he could be hiding, until he eventually finds him.

their reunion scene is like. i honestly don't know if i can convey the sheer, ridiculous, absolute beauty that is this scene.

the thing is, steve isn't the only one who discovered bucky's location: the bad guys did too, and they're coming. like they're coming RIGHT NOW, as sam keeps trying to warn steve. which means that he and bucky have about 20 seconds to do this, and that might sound like too short of a time, right? but honey, the amount of repressed emotions and homoerotic subtext these two manage to stuff into those 20 seconds, my god--

no because like, there's a whole-ass SWAT team outside, waiting to crash through their door and blow up the place, yeah? and instead of getting the fuck out of there PRONTO, steve, mr romeo fucking rogers, decides to spend those precious few seconds trying to get bucky to admit that he loves him, making this much yearned-for, long-awaited reunion the most high-stakes game of gay chicken in the whole of history. you might think i'm kidding, but i'm not!!!!

INTRODUCING:

in the red corner, we've got steve basically telling bucky: "i know that you remember me, i know that you saved me because you still love me, please will you just say it out loud babe"

and in the blue corner there's bucky, extremely conflicted because YES, of course he loves steve, but he also knows he's putting steve in danger just by standing in the same room as him, and steve shouldn't even be here in the first place, and anyways STEVE NOW'S NOT THE TIME PLS FUCK

so he's just (unsuccessfully) trying to deny everything, you know?? "fuck no i don't know you, just know your name from a museum, what do you mEAN i saved your ass because i love you more than life itself and that's literally the first thing i remembered when i got my memory back"

(a quick reenactment:)

but really, you'll see the love in bucky's eyes if you just look hard enough.

n- no, look harder

a bit harder?

see, i told you

so here they are, just about to slam each other into the nearest wall and make out like it's brokeback mountain and they're just two guys coming from a time where their love had to be kept a secret and they miss what little privacy they used to have in their own little bubble when they were younger and living together and then life tore them apart and they haven't seen each other in ages and they've been yearning all the while and now that they're finally standing before each other again the air feels electric between them and they just can't help but- wait. uh. that, uh. that sounds familiar. uh.

OKAY so they're totally about to snog the living daylights out of each other, but time is running out. the bad guys are here!! and- and also a bunch of other people! because apparently everybody wants bucky either dead or locked up for one reason or another!! MY BOY CAN'T CATCH A FUCKING BREAK!!

so bucky is apprehended. but before anyone can do much about it, this other guy - this movie's Official Antagonist™ - gets bucky alone and triggers bucky's brainwashed assassin persona into taking over.

no longer conscious of his own actions, bucky wreaks havoc in the building, knocking people down in his wake like a sexy buff steamroller, and tries to escape; but steve, desperate not to lose him again, goes after him and stops him.

by grabbing onto a fucking helicopter, as one does

one extremely romantic, freaking insane stunt later, steve manages to get bucky to safety. next thing you know, bucky's waking up and back to himself, and they finally have a bit longer than 20 seconds to talk. you think they're gonna be normal about this? you think they're gonna share a standard heart to heart conversation? oh hell no, babes. WHIP OUT THE BEDROOM EYES, TURN THAT SOFTNESS UP TO ELEVEN, WE'RE UNLOCKING A BRAND NEW LEVEL OF EMOTIONS HERE

seriously. you don't know what true tenderness is, until you've heard james buchanan barnes softly say, in his sweet, gruff, velvety drawl, barely holding back a smile, "your mom's name was sarah. you used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

also the two of them just. spend half the scene making INTENSE heart eyes at each other, gazing deeply and intimately in each other's eyes, just bypassing the flirting zone to move straight to eye-lovemaking lane, while sam is in the room, because they've got no chill whatsoever.

unfortunately, sam cockblocks reminds them that they don't have time for this shit (dammit, sam) as they kinda have more pressing matters at hand, being on the run from like every government in the world (and then some). also they must neutralize The Antagonist™ before he can act on his Evil Plan™, so, you know. put the eyesex on hold, guys!

(to be continued in part 4)

#stucky #stevebucky #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #part 3 :D #so this got too long and i thought it'd be best to split it in two parts #hence the change from 3/3 to 3/4 #rillers scribbles #i'm still not 100% sure how to tag it in the first place tbh xD #but here #have some silliness in your day #cacw

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acquiescest · 1 month ago

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noel gave liam the star shaped tambourine september 1992 and wrote lock all the doors (demo) 1-5 months later......

#i don't know the exact date of the 3 months they spent in liverpool on weekends with the real people #that's where the lyrics were written (he maybe already had the melody from coming on strong)#we know this because he stole lyrics from an unreleased real people song called my own dream #the demo was also recorded then #as far as i know it's the only version of the song before lgdm 2024 #obviously not counting my sister lover and lock all the doors (2015)#lock all the doors trilogy

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thoughtfulfangirling · 21 days ago

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"Down there resides the sum of all necromantic transgressions... The unperceivable howl of ten thousand million unfed ghosts who will hear each echoed footstep as defilement. They would not even be satisfied if they tore you apart. The space beyond that door is profoundly haunted in ways I cannot say, and by means you won't understand; and you may die by violence, or you may simply lose your soul."

—Gideon the Ninth of The Locked Tomb "Trilogy" by Tamsyn Muire

#haunting quotes #gideon the ninth #tfg reads #books #2024 reads #tamsyn muire #TLT #GTN #q #book quotes

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lilyletham · 9 months ago

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Heart-Shaped Box

hiiiii! I finally finished my long-awaited sequel to 'A friend on Thanksgiving'! I may have gone a little overboard with it, though. This has not been beta'd and I've gone over it a few times for errors but if there's any stragglers, all mistakes are my own. Happy Valentine's Day <333 Words: 1.6k Pairing: Jacob Palmer(Crazy, Stupid Love) x reader - wording is very gender-neutral, total reader insert Content description/warnings: Inebriation from alcohol, angst, vomiting, some mild fluff

Over time, the two of you grew into a casual and relaxed friendship. There was sometimes a slight fluttering under the surface, perhaps an echo or a whisper of something more, but neither one of you ever acted on it, as it seemed to disappear just as quickly as it surfaced. Jacob came off especially distant in the days approaching Valentine's Day. While he's had plenty of temporary company in his bed on that holiday in the past, it didn't soothe the lingering loneliness forming at the center of his chest when he thought about it.

You were surprised then when he declined your invitation on the 14th to hang out, watch cheesy movies and eat takeout. It was practically a weekend ritual with him at this point. He mentioned he had a date and promised to make it up to you later. Without much further thought about it, you left him to enjoy the night while you curled up on your couch and browsed Netflix. You binged-watched an entire corny B-movie trilogy before your eyes started to get heavy and your belly was full of snacks. You checked your phone, 1:44am.

You wrapped your fleece blanket around yourself and closed your eyes. Just as you started to drift off you're startled by a shuffling sound approaching your door and the jiggling of your doorknob. You also heard…singing? Very off-tune singing. You got up and checked the window and sure enough, Jacob was wobbling in front of your door, singing Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana(or attempting to anyway), trying to insert his house key and confused as to why it didn't work; every other lyric of his song replaced with a mumbled 'fuck' and 'goddamn lock'. He must've thought he was at his house. It would almost be adorable if not for the fact that you really didn't want him to destroy your door attempting to jam his key in.

You opened the door and he very nearly stumbled forward onto the ground, as he was leaning on it with his key in his hand. He looked at you bewildered.

"What…wait…what are you doing here?" He slurred, eyes glossy and unfocused.

"Jacob, this is my house. You're at the wrong door." You replied, trying very hard not to laugh at him.

He squinted his eyes tightly and tried to focus his vision, looking around the outside of your yard and then inside your front door. "Are you sure?" He looked down at his house key and the change in perspective caused him to sway, and he gripped the door frame tightly to keep himself from falling down.

You held onto his arm to keep him steady and he absolutely reeked of alcohol. He was much more intoxicated than you realized, and that was going to be a problem. He could barely stand on his own, so you draped an around around him and reluctantly took him into your house, closing the door behind you. You peeled off his white jacket and the both of you hobbled to the couch. He felt like a rag doll as you plopped him down on the cushions, and he landed with an 'Oof' and a very un-serious giggle.

"What happened to your date?" You huffed, recovering from dragging a drunk grown-ass man across your living room.

He laughed loudly, the sound unable to contain its bitter tone. "I s'got ghoshted…at s-thuh barrr…" His words were mushed together and mumbled. "Shtupid…"

Ouch. Ghosted on Valentine's Day? That's harsh. You leaned over him laying there, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, and then you saw it. His face went lax, his complexion paled and he started to heave. Oh, oh no. You rushed to your kitchen to grab your garbage can and flung off the lid, bringing it to him, thanking your lucky stars you replaced it earlier. He unceremoniously rolled over on his side, grabbed the trashcan and violently emptied his stomach contents into it. You winced from how bad he was coughing and gagging and spitting. After a few more unproductive retches, he groaned and put the can down, laying back on the couch with his arm over his eyes. He seemed too embarrassed to look at you.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you got up to get him a glass of water, returning to him swiftly. He gratefully drained the glass and handed it back to you.

It seemed the puking helped to sober him up slightly as his response was much more coherent, "I'm sorry I'm such a f-fucking loser." He pushed out, his voice cracked from a combination of his forceful heaving and his emotions. His eyes were already watering from throwing up, but you watched as they welled up again, threatening to spill over.

"Aw, no, you're not a loser. The person who ghosted you is a loser." You reassured him, and he looked up at you with upturned brows, like he's unsure if you really mean it or if you're just being nice. You sensed his insecurity and put your hand on his shoulder. "I mean it, really. It's their loss. You're a great person Jacob, I want you to know that."

He choked back a sob and reached out to hug you, and despite him smelling like a minibar, you wrapped your arms around him and let him rest his head on the crook of your shoulder. The fluttering feeling returned in your stomach, and you tried hard to ignore it, pushing it down. After a few more seconds of sniffling, he brought his head up to look into your eyes, searching. You wondered if he too felt the same feeling just now.

"I should have just stayed here with you." He said softly. You weren't sure if it was simply a statement or a confession of some sort. When he leaned toward you, you had your answer. His eyes looked full of hope and yearning, and you very nearly let him close the gap when his eyes went wide and he quickly turned his head, heaving into the trashcan once again. You're reminded of where you are and the moment passes. You rubbed his back in soothing circles while he rode out his nausea, head buried in the can between his legs. Poor guy.

When his vomiting subsided you got him more water, some Pepto and encouraged him to relax and lay down on the couch to rest. By the time you replaced the garbage bag in the trashcan, he was completely asleep, snoring softly. You wondered if he would remember anything about tonight, or if he even really meant to do what he did. You couldn't help but sleep out in your living room on your lounge chair because you wanted to keep an eye on him. After you've determined he's probably going to stay asleep, you do the same, trying to relax and get even a few hours of rest from this chaotic Valentine's night.

It was late morning when your eyes finally opened. Your back was stiff from the awkward position on the lounge chair and then you remembered what transpired the night before. You noticed that Jacob was nowhere to be found, and his jacket was no longer hanging from the coat rack on the wall near your door. He must have left while you were asleep. There was a little part of you that missed him even though you just spent the previous night watching him cry and puke in equal measure. Thoughts swirled in your head about whether or not he remembered trying to kiss you, but you figured it would be for the best to not even bring it up. Alcohol can do a lot of things to people, especially someone freshly heartbroken and vulnerable.

You got up to start your day as usual, debating whether or not to get some discounted Valentine's candy for your stash. As midday rolled around you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, you were met with a lovely bouquet of flowers. Jacob peered around the colorful arrangement in his hand to sheepishly greet you. He looked tired and definitely hung over, but he thankfully had time to shower, change and brush his teeth.

"Hi. I'm sorry about being a drunk idiot last night and puking." He chuckled. So he did remember that part.

You smiled and took the flowers. "You're fine. All's forgiven. How do you feel?" You don't know why you even asked, he looked like shit and both of you knew it.

He humored you and grinned. "Like my head got thrown in a cement mixer. Do you have any Tylenol?"

You knew damn well he probably had painkillers at home but you let him in anyway, gesturing to follow, and he smiled. You told him where it was in your medicine cabinet and as he fetched the pills for himself you put the flowers in an empty vase. When he returned you watched him casually move about your kitchen, navigating your space comfortably as he filled a glass with water and took the pain reliever. It was as if he felt at home with you. You weren't sure why you hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps you just weren't paying attention. You locked eyes with him and you realize it-- he remembered everything. There were those butterflies again.

A beat passed, and then another. He tentatively approached you, setting down the glass on the counter and resting his hand on your waist. Slowly, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It was feather-light, experimental. When you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him, all apprehension in his mind dissolved.

#jacob palmer #jacob palmer x reader #jacob palmer x you #ryan gosling #my writing #crazy stupid love #ryan gosling fanficton #ryan gosling fandom

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stromuprisahat · 1 month ago

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Hey,

Could you do a meta on the similarities between Labyrinth (1986) and the Shadow and Bone Trilogy? I read through that one scene (Alina and Darkling Interactions on your blog) between Alina and the Darkling after her and Mal get captured and Alina has to bargain for his life and they speak about fairness and the way the public views them both (Chapter 21 of the first book, I believe). I vaguely remembered this type of conversation from another piece of media, and saw in your tags that you attributed it to Labyrinth. Honestly wondering how much the movie influenced the trilogy, as I feel like Alina was supposed to be a Sarah Williams type of character but got her character development strangled by the narrative. Honestly wondering if this makes Mal Toby (romance aside), because Alina fought hard for this man and chose him over the ‘glamorous’ life she could have lived with the guy with powers (Darkling/Jareth). Genya might be Hoggle (works for the bad guy before becoming loyal to the protagonist). Maybe this is all a stretch?

Sorry if this is weirdly formatted. Thank you so much!

No anon! Why?!

I've watched Labyrinth once, and didn't enjoy it, so I was considering passing this on someone else, but since you've delved into details, I just HAD TO rewatch it, because I can't stand not knowing what's going on! So, I'll type as a watch and this will get veeeeeery long.

First of all- I hate those ugly-ass puppets and scenes. I find them creepy, and not in the good way. I totally don't get the ?US? obsession with them, and yes- I've hated Sesame Street, when it got imported here, and I've always hated Czech attempts at copying such production (Táhni, Františku z Fanfárie a Jůheláci taky, když už jsme u toho.).

I feel like Labyrinth is one of those movies, where fanon became widely-accepted canon, because I just can't see plenty of stuff allegedly present.

Alina and Sarah certainly have two things in common- they live in their own version of the world, and they're unbearably immature spoiled brats, even though you'd expect more from them their age considered. Yet somehow, Sarah's so unreasonably whiny, she almost makes me love Alina. Perhaps if we'd age her up a little and gave her potentially world-saving powers, she could've taken the S02show!psycho's place. They seem more alike than the book girl.

I mean... I don't like children, and I wouldn't be such a bitch to a ?one? year old...

The baby was a spoiled child and wanted everything for himself…

The baby can barely stand and certainly doesn't seem able to talk. It doesn't have mental capacity to imagine "everything", sure as hell not want it.

…and the young girl was practically a slave.

Sorry, but a scene earlier I saw her room. I watch her father respect her privacy. Her evil step mother being nothing but polite and non-threatening. I come from a loving family, and I've been keeping eye on my eight-years-younger brother since he was born. To an extent- yes, but they just want her to make sure he doesn't burn down the house on accident or something. He's even fed for fuck's sake! That's hardly slavery. And no, she doesn't get a pass as a moody teenager. This is a spoiled brat behaviour.

Sarah's straight up lying to make herself the victim. That's very Alina. Or more precisely- it's very Alina's new mommy Ol' Bags, but then again it's been said before Alina would grow into Baghra in time.

Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be… …take this child of mine far away from me!

We have a better Czech ballad about children-stealing demon punishing short-tempered mother:

"Pojď si proň, ty Polednice, pojď, vem si ho, zlostníka!“ – A hle, tu kdos u světnice dvéře zlehka odmyká.

Kytice- Polednice (Karel Jaromír Erben)

“Come and get him, noon witch, come take him! I can bear no more!” And look, someone’s outside – a thumb is stealthily working the lock at the door.

A Bouquet: of Czech Folktales (transl. by Marcela Malek Sulak)

I went through it quickly, and the translation doesn't look bad, so it's available on libgen if you're interested.

Alina had her immortality and complementary powers, but what does Jareth see in Sarah is beyond me.

Sarah says she wants her brother back, but honestly- it sounds more like she doesn't want to get in trouble because of him. I don't know if it's only the acting, or if it's intentionally portrayed so, but she doesn't look like someone, who just realized they care about someone else.

It might be the whiny undertone in her voice. Irritating, if anything.

Yeah, a pissing puppet is exactly what I needed to see...

Genya is certainly prettier than Hoggle.

And doesn't piss in public.

The walls of the Labyrinth look like Terezín before reconstruction.

Sarah gets an advice and doesn't bother to delve into it. Another tiny similarity with Alina. Except Alina had her half-a-thought of doubt, and her advisor is a malevolent cunt with her own interests. The freaky worm seemed genuine in its desire to help.

Obligatory song and dancing. *shoot me, please*

The only way out of here is to try one of these doors. One of them leads to the castle at the centre of the labyrinth. And the other one leads to… …certain death.

Please, pick the death one...

"Helping hands"... every creep's wet dream...

Yeah, the evil hot accent isn't enough to make me like this villain. Fucking 80s...

Those depressive warning faces are probably the only thing I might even ~like~.

Okay, NOW he was hot.

Jareth and Sarah have the fairness conversation, when he shortens her time to punish her for her defiance. Aleksander and Alina's take place, when he wants her to face consequences of her own actions and accept responsibility. He's the wronged one there, because she didn't consider anyone or anything, when she chose to trust Baghra and ran off.

Sarah gets Hoggle to follow her by stealing his stuff. She gets the doorknockers to let her in by tricking the mumbling one into taking the unpleasant ring back into his mouth and doesn't even try to pull it out again, or knock without it attached. She's rather cruel in her thoughtlessness, isn't she?

Aleksander never shames Genya for wanting to be Alina's friend. He never blackmails her to help him. She's the one, who provokes his rightful wrath for no good reason.

I think Jareth might be what LB (sometimes) wants us to see in Aleksander. Except it's hardly what she shows by his actions, only what her characters describe.

Another difference- Aleksander doesn't only want Alina, he needs her for his plan to save his people. Jareth merely has the worst possible taste in women.

Okay, the dog making hoof-clopping noises also isn't the worst idea.

I'm kinda sorry Aleksander never tried to poison/drug Alina. That might be fun. Even the collaring couldn't really make her compliant, so he's technically nicer even in this aspect. I can see antis claiming he tried to woo her by showing her the splendor of Little Palace and giving her the centre role in Winter Fete, but the former wasn't different from Grisha in officer training, the later was the Crown's doing. He's even said to despise such events.

Sarah is a modern teenager. Alina's considered adult in her world. I got to the ball scene, where it's painfully obvious Sarah is a child in adult's clothes and make-up. I'm a bit surprised she was played by an actual teenager.

Alina starts off willing to do anything for Malyen, and ends up becoming just what he wants. Sarah starts off selfishly bullying a baby, only to turn 180° as soon as he's stolen, so excuse I'm not persuaded she means it. She doesn't manage it in next hour and half.

~ I have to face him alone. - But why? ~ Because that's the way it's done.

The logic is very Alina, but she never insists on facing the Darkling alone, except that one time she attempts murder/suicide.

Oh no, Aleksander would never wear something this teAsticleless

And no, I truly don't mean the colour.

I ask for so little. Just let me rule you… …and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say… …and I will be your slave.

Again, that's no Aleksander at all. He didn't want to rule Alina, he wanted to rule alongside her. He only tried to force her once she endangered his plans for his country and people.

He never promised her everything she's want, because the only thing she seems to want is to be left alone to live in obscurity with no expectations placed on her.

He doesn't want her to fear him and she never does. He doesn't even crave people's fear. He uses it as a tool, when there's no better option.

He doesn't mind Alina defying him, finds it attractive actually, as long as it doesn't ruin- once again- his plans for Ravka and Grisha protection.

The slave line actually reminds me of much better representation of book!Aleksander- I Wanna Be Your Slave by Måneskin.

I was pretty sure I've seen Cinema Therapy episode on Labyrinth I deeply agreed with, but can't find it, so... :(

#reply #Grishaverse #Labyrinth #Darklina #The Darkling #Alina Starkov #Jareth #Sarah Williams #Genya Safin #Hoggle #grishanalyticritical #parallels&references #Grisha trilogy

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nicomundthered · 2 years ago

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Kept Hidden

Injured Trilogy- part one | part two | part three

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: made a mistake, and then you try to hide it.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of blood and descriptions of injury, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of character death, I'm not a doctor, established relationship, no horses you say? no horses I say, soft Joel.

word count: 11k | ao3

a/n: I eat this trope up. Hope you enjoy!

masterlist

So the thing is, you knew that you shouldn’t have gone in without Joel. But in your defense, the door was ajar and he seemed close enough behind. You just wanted to get back to Jackson before it started raining again. You normally didn't mind the rain but this was your last house to check and it was getting cold–you didn't care to be both cold and wet. And quite frankly you were tired. It had been a long day and you were so done.

You opened the creaky door and took four maybe five steps into the home and a noise made you jerk in the opposite direction when a man with a bat came charging at you. Unfortunately for you he was quicker and the bat slammed into your side before you could register what was happening.

You fell over the wind completely knocked out of you. You tried to focus on breathing but that was when the sharp nearly blinding pain made itself known. Cursing at the bat, the man, the fact that you entered the building, and unfairly at Joel where the fuck was he? You let out a pained grunt and flipped onto your back. You tried to lift the arm holding the gun but he hit your hand before you could.

The feeling of your hand shattering made you scream. “Pl-please, please don't.” You desperately wheezed out, gripping your injured hand and raising your arms enough to block your face.

He angrily murmured something that you couldn't quite make out, he lifted the bat high above his head and with a wicked gleam in his eyes brought it down. You rolled as quickly as you could, narrowly missing the descending object.

You were gasping for air as you tried to get to your feet but he jumped on top of you, quickly discarding the bat realizing that it was too slow in this situation. Instead, he put both hands around your neck and gripped tightly.

Tears formed in your eyes as you fought under the compression of your windpipe. You clawed at his hands but they were locked and with one good hand you couldn’t do much of anything.

You started seeing dark spots and knew you were about to pass out. Your last thoughts were of Joel and Ellie. What you wouldn’t give for one more night with them by the fire–Ellie reading her jokes and Joel trying to act like he didn’t find them funny. Then later, after Ellie fell asleep, Joel would snuggle up to you. His deep breaths would calm you and you’d place your hand over his heart to feel its steady beat. This was your happy place. This was home.

As last thoughts go this was nice. You felt yourself calm down and prepared to let go. It was surprisingly an easy thing to do as the blood struggled to make it to your oxygen deprived brain.

Your good hand fell by your side grazing something hard and familiar tucked into your jeans, your knife. What the hell were you doing? Giving up before even trying? If you could have laughed you might have.

With the driving need to see your home again you successfully removed the blade, and with all of the strength left in your body you managed to stab the guy in the chest—once, twice, then a third time.

He yelled an expletive and grabbed at the knife as his blood covered you. He quickly gave up realizing that it was too late for him and decided that his last act on this earth was going to be trying to take you with him.

He got two good punches in, you barely even registered the blows landing on your jaw and then cheek due to the euphoric feeling of air filling your lungs, then he collapsed on top of you, the handle of your knife uncomfortably dug into your shoulder. Which brought your attention back to your injured side. The sharp pain was becoming more noticeable.

You desperately tried to roll him off of you. He wasn't large–smaller than Joel but not by much, but each time the pain in your hand became intense or your vision started to get blurry you’d panic and release him, which caused him to land roughly on your abdomen causing you to yell out.

It felt hopeless.

Just as you closed your eyes while you continued to slowly suffocate, you heard your name. It sounded distant. You looked around and couldn’t see anyone. And when you thought that maybe it was a hallucination, a cruel trick your mind was playing on you, you heard it again. This time closer and loud enough to recognize it.

“Joel?” You barely managed to rasp out.

He turned the corner quickly with his rifle. His brown eyes were intense but barely looked your way while he made sure the room was clear.

“I-I can't…” you couldn’t finish the sentence.

Ideally, he would like to check out the rest of the house for more people, but the desperation in your voice and the trail of blood that slowly pooled by your side almost made him shudder and refocus his priorities.

He swung his rifle behind him and threw the man off of you. Even though the man had enough blood on him to confirm his demise, he still had the urge to shoot him and reached for his gun.

Joel was hyper focused. His vision was clear, his breath was quick but deep, his heart was pounding in his ears making them feel like they were stuffed with cotton. He felt feral.

He found that he couldn't bring himself to look at you yet. He needed to eliminate the threat he needed to make sure no one else could hurt you. He found it hard to switch from protector to caregiver–which were two very different modes. And if he was being completely honest, if you were badly injured, if you were dying then his world would come crumbling down. He had experienced that feeling before and he was in no hurry to feel it again. He couldn't. He didn't think he was strong enough for it.

Caution be damned. If someone heard the gun go off then he’d kill them too. And anyone else that dared to threaten your existence. He’d kill them all. He was no longer thinking rationally. He could barely think at all.

The rifle went off twice, the bullets landed into the already dead man's chest. He felt satisfaction as the blood exploded from his motionless body. Pride came with it, you had killed the fucker.

And as soon as he watched the last bullet land he dropped the gun and fell to his knees beside you. His attention was now on you. His ears cleared enough so that he could hear your shallow-wheezing breath. He saw the fear in your eyes as you gripped his arm begging him for help, needing the air to return.

“Easy, easy. Shhh deep breaths,” he took a deep breath in and out trying to guide you through it. The fact that he wasn't sure what was wrong made his blood run cold.

As if you read his thoughts, you lifted your neck and hand gestured a choking motion with your good hand. He then noticed the red and purple colors discoloring your beautiful throat. His hand delicately touched the darkest spot and blinding anger made the muscles in his jaw twitch. He gently moved his hand higher to stroke your swollen cheek.

“Damn,” he sighed. “Jus- just breathe as deep as you can, ok?” You nodded and he lifted your head to lay on the softness of his thigh.

“You hurt anywhere else?”

You lifted your hand.

His eyes glazed over as he took in your swollen bruised hand. He cursed the dead man as he carefully held your hand in his. It was hot and the skin felt tight. It looked like it hurt badly and if it was indeed broken, which it certainly looked like, it would probably be an injury you would carry for the rest of your life.

He was so fucking mad. Not at you. Never at you. He did his best to calm down.

“Is this any of your blood?”

He held his breath. God help him if it was.

You shook your head no and he released all of the air in his lungs. “You did so good baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Your breathing was slowly returning to a calmer and fuller rhythm which allowed you to speak. “A- bat…he had,” you tried to clear your throat. “A bat,” your voice was quiet and hoarse but he was so relieved to hear it.

Joel looked around for the offending object and when he saw the aluminum baseball bat a few feet away he felt his heart begin to race. He gripped your leg a little tighter than he should and his voice was deep and hateful. “Son of a bitch got lucky.” His thoughts flooded with the violent urge to get the bat and smash the man's face in until it was nothing more than a pile of gunk. That's what the man deserved.

You placed your good hand on his and rubbed gentle circles causing him to ease his grip, you knew him so well. “I’m ok Joel.”

It wasn’t that you didn't love this side of him, you loved him and accepted him with all of his imperfections just as he did yours, but you hated when he did this. Took all of the blame. Put too much on himself. Acted like everything bad happened because he wasn't fast enough to see it coming. And you hated that with these thoughts came aggressively dark connotations. He wanted you to believe that he moved on from that and maybe he had for the most part, but not when it came to his family. It truly wasn't something he could help.

You knew that his daughter- Sarah had died. And although you didn't know what it was like to lose a child and you didn't pretend to, you have lost a lot of people you loved as well. So you didn't pretend to be better than that, you understood.

You could see the fear in his eyes now. Your physical wounds would heal, and you knew that his emotional wounds wouldn't. And this would be yet another scar. The inability to protect the ones he loves–his greatest fear. Everytime he failed he lost another piece of himself to his darkness.

Joel would do anything to keep you and Ellie safe. He wanted neither of you to have to see anymore death. For both of you to have a place where you could take off your shoes, and not need a weapon or a backup weapon or a backup for your back up weapon. He often tried to talk you out of going on runs and taking patrol shifts, but that was an argument he'd never win. You were a team and you weren't going to leave him alone.

The color was returning to your face and your breaths were not full but they were enough for you to want to sit up.

He was still staring at the blood covering your midsection as you abruptly became vertical. You gasped at the sharp pain in your abdomen, which you should probably mention, but there wasn't anything he could do about it here. You’d wait until you saw the doctor in Jackson. There was no need to put more worry and unnecessary guilt on him. He battles with that enough as it is, and if you were being honest you were a little more than a little ashamed. If you wouldn't have been so impatient you wouldn't be lying covered in blood, and more injured than you let on.

“Hey easy!”

“I’m fine,” you gritted out defensively as he helped prop you against the wall.

He looked at you skeptically. His eyes continued to study your body. You had the tendency to tell half truths when you were injured. You didn't like the attention and feeling that you were incapable. One day your pride was going to get you into big trouble.

He also knew that you kept your pain hidden from him, especially from him for a reason he didn't understand. He had caught Ellie helping you with cuts and sprains more often than he liked. And he couldn’t for the life of him wrap his head around that. The two of you had been together for years now. He loved you and you loved him and yet, you still felt too guilty that you were–what, human? That you felt pain and bled? That you made mistakes?

You always seemed so ashamed, so embarrassed. Like you were afraid that you somehow had let him down. Which was insane, he just didn't want you hurt. Even if it was by your determination just a little sprain or scrape.

So no, he didn't believe you when you said you were fine. Despite knowing that, he still didn't want to waste time arguing with you. It would be a losing battle for him anyhow, and it would only make you feel worse. But he did have to believe that you were going to be ok to make it back.

“I’ll be ready to go in a minute,” your voice was pure gravel as it pulled him from his thoughts.

“We’ll stay here as long as you need,” he rocked back on his heels and his fingers were flexing where they balanced him to the ground.

You thought that you understood why he couldn't be still–the fear and his feeling of inadequacy, you knew it was the past haunting him—teasing him it will happen again. He was fighting the impending darkness, trying to distract himself from its reality. It filled you with guilt and shame, because you caused this. If you would have just waited. If you would have been more careful, the haunted look that now covered his handsome face wouldn't be there.

“Joel.”

Even though he had seen you injured before, he would admit that this was different. There was something about the blood soaking your clothes. He had never seen you covered in it before. He knew that it wasn’t yours, he had been looking for tears in your shirt, but the image still shook him. There was a constant thrum in his body—his pulse felt loud and he couldn’t keep his damn hands still.

“Joel,” you said as loud as you could manage.

His eyes shot to yours, they were overflowing. Not with tears but raw conflicting emotions– love and fear.

“I’m ok,” you gripped at his trembling hand.

He leaned forward and rested his forehead gently on your own.

“Scared the shit out of me,” he practically whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

He interrupted you by suddenly leaning back so he could look into your eyes, “Not now, ok? Not now.”

“I shouldn’t have gone in without you,” tears flooded your eyes and you gasped almost frantically trying your best not to sob at your own stupidity and pain.

He pulled you to him tightly and you felt the proverbial dam break. You cried hard and snuggled into his neck, tears wetting his jacket. His fragrance gave you a sense of peace encouraging you to breathe fuller. You finally felt safe.

A massive lump formed in his throat, you weren't the only one struggling to breathe. He tried his best to keep his emotions in tact, but he felt the familiar panic begin to creep. The attacks had been happening more frequently and he had yet to tell you about them. This wasn't the time, if it ever would be. This was about your comfort and it wasn't fair to put his own shit on you. He realized that that was hypocritical of him, but he had to be stronger than that.

The only thing grounding him was your warmth and the sound of your breathing. Your body suddenly felt so small to him and delicate. You were always precious to him but you suddenly felt like you were made of glass. He worried that if he squeezed too tight and that you might shatter into a million pieces right in front of him. He thought about how easy it would be for someone larger to hurt you. How easily he could hurt you.

And yet you weren’t the one laying lifeless.

“I got you baby, I got you,” he wasn't even aware that he was muttering promises and endermanets into your hair.

You don’t know how long you stayed in his arms but you did know you were in no hurry to leave his strong embrace. After a while your tears slowed and eyelids grew heavy. Your head pounded and you just wanted to lay back down.

“I need to wrap your hand,” he said slowly unwrapping himself from you, sensing that all of your remaining adrenaline was dwindling and that it was time for action.

He touched your hand as carefully as possible. It looked worse than it had a few moments ago—almost double in size and a few shades darker than your skin tone. He took out his handkerchief and wrapped it loosely. It wouldn’t do much but he figured that it was better than not doing anything, and that simply wasn't an option.

You hissed and he frowned in sympathy.

“Just until we get you to the Doctor,” he said more to himself than to you.

You caressed his cheek with your uninjured hand. His face relaxed as his bloodshot eyes closed and he leaned into your palm giving a firm lingering kiss.

“Joel-“

“Yeah sweetheart?” He mumbled into your palm.

“Let’s not tell Ellie about this. It’s hard enough to keep her-“ you coughed unexpectedly and it made you wince.

Joel witnessed it all and his eyes narrowed as he observed you, “I think she might notice.” He looked at your bruised cheek and neck. Not to mention your busted hand. You might could lie to her about one of these things but not all three.

You cleared your throat but it didn’t do much good and spoke slowly. “I just…I don’t want her feeling like she needs to do this. I just talked her out of going on these runs until she's a little older and now she's not gonna let us go alone. She's so young Joel and I don’t want her getting hurt trying to- to protect me…or something. You already do too much and-“

He said your name firmly, “Stop. Don’t you fucking dare.” He sat up straight and ran his hand over his face. He didn’t want to have this conversation. It was ridiculous. You were his to care for. Didn’t you know that?

It wasnt that you couldnt take care of yourself and you have done a good job of that your whole life. You just happened to be a little unlucky is all, and to be fair this was by far your worst injury. But given the circumstances you'd say you've done alright for yourself.

“I have told you time and time again, we are a family. You, me, and Ellie.” His eyes searched yours seeing if you were listening. “I would do anythingin the world for either of you.”

You turned, avoiding eye contact with him. The love that he had for you felt too much at times. In fact it completely overwhelmed you. It was hard to accept that someone could love you this much. It took awhile for him to admit his feelings to you but once he did it was like watching a flower bloom. He poured his love out and in doing so got back some of his past self. It made him feel happier like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He absolutely loved loving you, and caring for you. It gave his life meaning, it made him feel human again, something that he hadn't felt in decades.

However, the downside was he still had his thorns–your relationship had only made them sharper and along with that came a protective side that was lethal.

In return, you were afraid that you couldn’t properly convey how much he meant to you. You weren't a flower, you had worn your affection for him with every glance you gave. With his confession you hadn't blossomed, you became grounded–more like the roots of a tree than a flower. Your feelings didn't change outwardly, you still looked at him the same, but on the inside, deep down in your soul everything had become safe and stable since Joel Miller had entered your life. You for the first time since the outbreak felt peace.

You would die for him just as fast as he'd die for you. Even though you doubt he would believe that, or maybe he just wouldn't want to. Of course he knew you loved him but he didn't understand just how much. It was more than just a love, it had become a need. A selfish need to see him everyday, to hear his smooth calming voice, to feel his strong hands on you. Your day felt empty without it. Sometimes you felt like you needed him more than he needed you, and feared that with his past loss one day he’d wake up and realize you weren’t worth the pain. Especially if you kept getting injured.

“Hey-” he said, breaking you out of your anxious thoughts. “Look at me.”

You turned your head slowly. His eyes locked on to yours, “I don’t know what more I can do to convince you. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“I know you love me.”

“Do you?”

You shook your head yes.

He didn’t look happy, “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do!” You spoke as loud as your voice would allow. You coughed again, this time it was deeper and sounded wetter. It took longer for you to return to normal.

His brows furrowed, “Easy, hey easy. I believe you.” His hand caressed your shoulder. “Don’t speak just nod, ok?”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Listen- I- I know you. And I know you don't want to believe it, but I…I’m scared of the man I'd be without you.”

“Don’t say...”

“Quiet,” he said firmly with a little rawness. “Don't get yourself worked up- just listen.”

You nodded that you would.

“When I lost Sarah...”

You reached out and touched his hand and with eyes full of fresh tears you shook your head no. God he didn't have to do this now.

“No. I- I-...It’s ok. It’s time, I just need you to understand something,” he turned his hand over and held yours tenderly. “She died because of my mistakes. She was shot and I-” he swallowed thickly. “I- couldn't save her. That was on me, her father. She trusted me to keep her safe. She trusted me with her life and I couldn't even give her that. The most simple thing I could have done.” He shook his head in disbelief, “...and, my one job- and I failed her,” he clinched and then unclenched his jaw.

“After- I went completely…there was nothing. Couldn't cry. Could barely eat–I didn't want to. So I decided that I- had had enough. Enough of it all…I couldn't see a point without her. Without her smile, there was no sun anymore and- and so I- grabbed my gun…”

You tensed and sucked in a deep breath. He lifted your hand so that your fingertips touched the raised flesh on his forehead.

“I missed.”

Tears fell from your eyes.

“Thank god I missed.” He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to your knuckles. It wasn't a kiss so much as him needing to just feel your skin.

He said your name when you turned away and your hand fell, unable to look at his pained expression any longer. You felt that you had to be strong for him but you found it very difficult. He was finally sharing with you his darkest moment, something that you had wondered about since you got to know him– you never tried to pry, if he didn’t want you to know you could live with that. It was his memory to share and you would die not knowing if that’s what he wanted. It wouldn’t change how you felt about him.

You had just wanted to know all parts of Joel. The good and the bad. Maybe even especially the bad, because that's the part he's let motivate and mold him into the man he is today. Not that you've ever blamed him for that. You didn't know what you'd do if you lost Joel or Ellie–you didn't know who you'd become. But this, this you honestly weren't expecting.

You hated that with this knowledge, it felt like both a relief and a massive burden. He had now bared his soul to you but in doing so he had just unintentionally placed something on you that was unfair. You didn’t want to feel like the catalyst, like the ticking time bomb waiting to explode and kill what he'd finally gotten back. You didn’t want that on your conscience and you were sure he wasn't even aware of what he'd done, but it frightened you.

And as he sat before you now–with those deep brown eyes boring into yours, you all of the sudden selfishly wished that he hadn't shared. It felt too much, too serious, too final. Your head started pounding and the pain in your hand became more apparent.

“And now, twenty years later I’ve been given a second chance- at love, at life. I know accepting that is hard for you- I get it, but even if you can't accept it- don't you ever, ever doubt it.”

He gently grabbed your chin and moved your face so that you were inches away looking up at him, “Because, I- I can’t fail you.”

He pressed his lips to yours. It was quick and gentle, and then he rested his forehead back onto yours.

Whereas he felt a sudden peace you were almost panicking. “You- you won’t. You couldn’t. Even- even if something happened…”

He said your name, “Please…”

“Let me,” you leaned back and he followed only this time he was the one dreading the eye contact. “You would have to keep going.”

He didn't respond.

“Joel you'd have to. If not for me then for Ellie.”

He sighed. “I can't make that promise to you. I- I wish I could but I can't. I’m stronger now, I know I am. You've helped me be that, but if…if you left me- I don’t know.”

“Can you promise me that you'd try?” You knew that wasn't far, but you had to hear it. You couldn't bear the thought of him hurting himself over you and you knew that the next time, if there ever was one, he wouldn't miss.

He nodded yes that he would try.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He asked not believing that you would just accept him like that. That you would just hear the darkest part of him and still love and respect him. That you understood him, even with all of his darkness, and after his admission you now knew it all.

You nodded but then your cough returned violently.

“I told you not to speak and now look at you,” he frowned, his concern starting to rear its ugly head again, and he stood up deciding it was time to leave.

“We need to get you home,” he walked over and picked up your gun and stuck it in his pants, and then pulled your knife from the man’s chest, wiped it off and tucked it back into your pants. “You ready?”

He was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to get you out of the house. It was too cold and he didn't want you breathing anymore of the musty air.

He slowly helped you up and stilled when you groaned out. The blood rushed to your head and you swayed.

“I gotchu,” he held you steady as your world slowly righted itself.

After a few moments you nodded indicating that you were ready. He took off his jacket and placed it over your shoulders, and swung his gun back onto his back.

“I don’t ne–”

“It's getting colder and it's gonna rain.” You stared at him about to argue when he said, “I’ll be fine. You know the cold doesn't bother me.”

You scoffed knowing that it was a losing battle. He complained about the cold as often as you did.

He helped you to the door and you found that you couldn't stand up straight. That was fine though as long as you could walk you were good. Jackson was only about four miles away. It would only take an hour, maybe two if you had to slow down. You could make it.

You had to.

Thirty minutes later, you were moving as fast as your legs could but your side hurt. And for the first time since the injury you were actually worried. The pain was sharp and deep, and it felt like you had a sack of rice draped over your chest, making it very difficult to breathe. Though what concerned you the most was after your last round of coughing, you had tasted blood.

Joel was a couple of steps ahead, clearing the way, just in case the man in the cabin wasn't alone. You knew that his confession took a lot out of him, hell it took a lot out of you, but now he was focused on getting you home. Whereas before you felt like you had all of the time in the world now you felt pressured to continue.

Each step felt heavier than the last, and your pace was slowing dramatically but you still didn't call out. You had to dig into something deep within you–keep moving, keep moving, you can't be his bomb.

Another few minutes pass and you're still not even at the halfway point. It's beginning to rain, and you believe it's mixed with sleet. You can hear the soft pattering as it hits the fallen leaves.

Despite your chills you're sweating now. You can feel it dripping down the back of your neck. You can no longer feel the pain in your hand, probably thanks to Joel’s wrapping–or at least you hoped that was why. But you did have the worst sore throat of your life. And your side felt too big- swollen with its own heartbeat.

The ground was slick from the rain and you stumbled a few times. You start shaking from fear or shock, you aren’t sure. When you coughed this time you had to bend over. It was loud and intense, it echoed through the trees as it brought you to your knees.

Joel continued ahead. He felt that he had to keep moving. Everything would be fine once you got home. He had to believe that.

He had a feeling that something more was wrong. He observed you, he specialized in you. But the fear within him, the fear that he’d fail someone he loved yet again…it made his chest hurt. It made him want to pick you up and run. He needed to get you to safety.

But when he heard that cough, the one that had taken you to the ground, he turned and ran to you. His heart almost stopped entirely when he saw how you were shaking, and when he saw the new blood beading the arm of his jacket he fell to his knees with you.

“How long?” he barely managed to rasp out.

“I’m f-fine,” you spoke so softly that you almost couldn't be heard over the rain.

Joel sighed in disapproval as your name left his lips. “Why would you lie to me?”

You looked up at him, blood coated your teeth and bottom lip. “There's noth– nothing you can do…I-I didn't want to…worry you.”

The words that your hoarse voice barely managed to rasp out mixed with the sight of you chilled him to the bone. He would rather be eaten alive by clickers than to be in this hell he was in now.

“Baby...”

You turned your head and coughed again, so violently that your face turned a deeper shade and the veins in your forehead protruded. Blood sprayed out from your mouth with every cough and you suddenly felt very tired.

He held onto you from your side and he could feel the effort required for each breath. He could feel the tremors, and scarier still- he could smell the metallic twang of your blood.

When you finally calmed down, it felt like hours to him but it was no more than a couple of minutes, he hauled you up not wanting you to be in the cold mud for another second.

“I'm going to have to look at you, ok?”

You feebly nodded. His hand reached for the bottom of your shirt and you grabbed his hand stopping him. You looked at him ashamed as you mouthed the words ‘I’m so sorry Joel’.

When he watched your beautiful lips make those words he stilled, his eyes shifting between yours. He was stabbed with an intense fear that made him want to collapse. His eyes didn't leave yours. What he was searching for he didn't know, but he needed something. It was like he didn't believe how serious it was, like he was waiting for you to laugh or smile.

He placed both hands on either side of your face and handled you a little rougher than he intended. He didn't hurt you but the intensity was definitely there.

“You are going to be ok?”

Your eyes wandered, you didn't want to alarm him but you were terrified. You were beginning to think that maybe you wouldn't be.

He said your name, “Look at me. I said you are going to be ok. You hear me?”

You start crying again but you still nodded with more conviction this time, for his sake.

“It's not much further, we will go slow and take as many breaks as you need–then we'll getchu home and warmed up by the fire, alright?”

You nodded again. You recognized what he was doing, and appreciated it. But as much as you wanted to cuddle in front of the fire with Joel, honestly all you wanted was a doctor.

He placed a kiss on your forehead and he backed away trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He wanted to fall on his knees and scream up at the heavens. This isn't fair, this wasn't right. Though he stayed strong, because for all he knew, maybe it wasn't that bad.

The problem was though, it was that bad.

You reluctantly let him slowly lift your shirt. You turned your head so you couldn't see his reaction. You didn't want to, you knew what was probably there and you didn't think you were strong enough to watch his face as he saw the hidden injury.

You wanted to fuss at him and say you were ‘fine let's go, we are wasting time’ but you physically couldn't. You wanted to jog ahead playfully and ask ‘what was taking so long’ but you couldn't. You wanted to remove the furrow of his brow and the frown of his mouth but you couldn't.

Your shirt was still wet with your attacker’s blood and rain. It was clinging to your skin which made the reveal even more traumatizing for Joel. Last time he’d touched a bloody abdomen that wasn't his own, it was his dying daughters.

“Fuck,” he wasn’t aware he choked out.

Your right rib cage was extended—swollen like a football and so dark of a purple it was almost black. He let his fingertips lightly graze the swollen area. It was hard and felt hot to the touch.

Your involuntary tremors made him snap out of it and he let go of your shirt and put his hands on your shoulders

“We have to get going. Ok?”

You mouthed, ‘how bad?’

“It’s not bad, we just need to get home before dark.”

You looked at him knowingly, it was his serious expression that told you the truth.

‘Joel?’ You silently persisted. Needing to hear it from his own admission. If you were dying you wanted to know.

He tilted his head down and took a deep steadying breath then returned to you, “It’s…it’s not good baby. Some ribs are broken I—I think and it’s so purple, I think it’s internal bleeding but—but I don’t know. I think maybe your lung…” he swallowed and did his best to steady himself, “I think a rib might–might have punctured your lung. I’ve never seen…we need to get you back.”

His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, too weak and soft for the moment. It sounded like he had given up but that couldn't be further from the truth. His chest hurt. His shoulders were shaking from anxiety and his heart was racing dangerously.

Tears were streaming down your face, blending with the now pouring rain. You smiled sadly– 'Told you, nothing you can do.’

He made a sound you never wanted to hear from him again. If you had to describe it, and you really didn't want to, it sounded like a strangled sob.

He pulled your good side to him and held you for a moment, more for him than you. He needed to feel you, as a reminder that you were here, that you were still warm and alive.

The half embrace helped you as well. Maybe you had been walking too fast, because this break had helped you breathe, you hadn’t had the urge to cough in awhile.

“Alright let’s go real slow. You just focus on your breathing,” he put your arm around his neck and put his arm under your arm. He braced you taking most of your weight so that you just barely had to move your legs.

You didn’t struggle for another fifteen minutes after, but then you felt the cough coming and tapped his arm. He stopped immediately and held you up. Your legs wobbled as the cough took almost everything that you had. You felt extremely sore as the sharpness from your broken rib poked at your organs. The blood returned and so did the wheezing.

“I’ve got you…I’ve got you.” His face grew pale as he saw the amount of blood coming out of you.

You looked up at him, blood dripping from the corner of your mouth and mouthed ‘tired.’

“I know baby, I am too but we still have a little ways to go. We need to hurry though because we don't want to worry Ellie.”

He held you tighter and took more of your weight, practically dragging you alongside of him.

You tried honestly you did, but your feet felt like lead and your eyes were refusing to stay open. The struggle to breathe was returning and you started to feel cold.

The rain continued to pour. The mud was starting to stick to Joel's boots making him have to pick up his feet a little higher. If you were to look behind you'd see trail marks from you not being able to pick up your feet.

A few more minutes of struggling, and with a little more than a mile to go, you tugged at his arm.

He slowly came to a stop and looked at you.

The color was gone from your face and you could barely hold your head up. ‘I can't’, you silently stated. You were by now too weak to cough. The rattling in your chest had grown louder and wetter, and the pain in your side was becoming unbearable, irritated by each tug as he pulled you along. You just wanted to lay down. You felt your body give up.

“It's ok.”

You frowned and if you had any tears left they would begin to fall but you were empty. You feared you had nothing left in you, and really didn't want to die this close to Jackson. That would be cruel and pathetic.

You wanted to tell him to go ahead and get help, that you'd wait for him, that you would do your best to stay awake. But you knew that was pointless–he would never leave you.

“I’m proud of you. You made it so far.” He kissed the top of your head. Then he moved in front of you, and turned his back, “Hold on to me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck–low enough to where you don't choke him, and grimaced as you squeezed your bad hand too tightly but didn't let go. You put all of your remaining energy into holding on.

He grabbed a hold of your legs and brought them around to hug his waist, then he wasted no time and started trudging through the muck as fast as he could. He could feel your trembling body and because of how close your mouth was to his ear, he could hear every gasp for air. It sounded scary but it was comforting, he prayed it didn't stop.

The weather was only getting worse and he felt that that fit the mood appropriately, because something this bad couldn't happen on a beautiful day. The rain was falling so heavily now that it affected his visibility. You were both soaked, even his boots sloshed with water.

There was a road that led straight to Jackson. It wasn't usually busy and only really got a handful of visitors a year, most people would turn back before even trying to get in after they saw the armed guards. That was the quickest way back, but both of his hands were currently preoccupied by holding your legs, so he couldn't defend you if need be. So even though it was much harder on him he opted to stay hidden in the safety of the trees.

By his determination, if he could keep up this pace, you'd be home in thirty minutes.

“How are you doing back there?” He asked. He had been avoiding speaking too much because he needed all the air he could get. He wasn't exactly young anymore and although you weren't heavy to him–he still needed to be smart with his stamina.

You didn't respond.

“Baby, if you can hear me move your leg.”

Nothing.

Shit he thought, picking up his pace. He still heard your rattled breathing but losing consciousness was never a good sign.

It began to thunder and the wind started picking up. The temperature was dropping fast.

And just as he was thinking about how the weather was currently mirroring the turmoil within him, he felt your grip loosen. He reacted quickly enough to lean forward so you wouldn’t fall from his back.

The sounds of the storm made it so he could no longer hear your breath and at the loss of that sound, meant he'd lost all signs of your life.

He fell to his knees instantly and as carefully as possible, turned and laid you on the ground. He quickly leaned forward and hovered his good ear over your mouth. It took an agonizingly long time but he heard it there, the faint sound of your sluggish breath.

He sobbed out in relief and did his best to collect himself. He took just a second to look down at you. You were so hauntingly beautiful at that moment. Blood diluted by the rainwater lightly streamed out from your mouth. A few strands of hair were stuck to your face. He moved them carefully like with one false move and you'd be gone.

Now that he couldn’t talk to you, all he wanted to do was tell you how much he loved you, and vowed to himself that if you survived he’d tell you everytime he thought it.

He moved to cradle you in his arms and once he had a good grip, he slowly stood up. His lower back protested with an achy twinge of a past injury, but he could care less. He was getting you home no matter if he was broken in half.

Carrying you this way was more of a challenge. It was harder on his body to do so but also he could see just enough of your face to make him constantly on the verge of breaking down. Despite the paleness of your face, bruising of your cheek, and the blood dribbling out from your mouth, you looked peaceful. And that scared him so bad he almost couldn't deal with it.

Every fiber of his being wanted to run and now after really thinking about it, it was fucked up that the weather was so bad. Winter was a few months away and he had not experienced a rain like this since being in Wyoming. So naturally on all days that it could happen it had to be today.

His arms, back, and legs were on absolute fire but he was getting close now. He could see the buildings in the distance.

With a new found surge of energy he picked up his pace. The motion jostled you and you grunted in pain.

“I know, I know but we are almost there. Just hold on for me.”

When he got you to the entrance he yelled out as loud as he could, “Help! Somebody helppppp!”

Tommy who had been patrolling came running and was the first one to see Joel with his arms full of you. He tried to help his brother by taking you from Joel's arms, but Joel jerked you away from him.

“Get the doctor! Go- GO!” His voice was rough but loud enough to send chills down Tommy’s spine.

He had only heard that voice one other time. He took a giant step back and tried his best not to think of another day long ago. He looked at you and got that eerie familiar feeling. Joel looked ready to yell again so Tommy wasted no more time and sprinted ahead calling out for the doctor.

Just as Joel made it to the old clinic, he could see the doctor running down the street putting her hair up as she yelled out for him to go around back.

She met him there and quickly opened the door which led directly to her operating room. She cleaned her hands as he laid you on the table.

If he hadn't just heard your soft puffs of air he would think that you were dead. In fact the doctor did assume you were and checked for a heartbeat.

Tommy and Maria came barging through the other door, he was panting for air and she was looking at you with such anguish.

“How is she?” Maria asked quickly.

You, Maria, and Tommy really got along. The four of you spent a lot of time together. You'd go to the movies and eat dinner as a double date. They loved you. So much that Joel often found himself feeling like the odd man out. He just wanted to be around you, he no longer cared if that was selfish.

“She has a heartbeat, that's all I know so far.” The doctor's voice was smooth and feminine, though urgent.

Joel then realized that he wasn't being any help. He was just standing there with his arms slightly raised forward like he was expecting for you to be placed back into them. You weren't out of the woods yet just because he got you to the doctor. The next step of your recovery has begun and he needs to get his head on straight. His recuperation couldn’t begin until after you were stable–until after you were home and in his arms.

“She–she um…” His voice didn't sound like his own, too weak and desperate sounding. It sounded like he was about to break down. He realized this and pushed his wet hair back out of his face and straightened his shoulders. He calmed his breathing and his thoughts and spoke much more assuredly. “She was attacked with a baseball bat. Her side is bad and her- her hand. He tried to strangle her, but it's–it’s her side.”

The doctor didn't even look up at him as he spoke. Her sole focus was on you. She had already determined that you had been choked and beaten–your swollen face and neck was more than enough evidence to determine that. She noticed your labored breathing but had assumed that it was from the trauma to your windpipe.

She lifted up your shirt to examine your side, and quickly instructed, “We need to get her clothes off.”

Joel rushed to your side almost protectively and assisted the doctor in removing his jacket from you. Tommy and Maria stripped you of your boots and socks, they both finished and looked up when Joel cut your shirt open. He fought the urge to shield you from their view.

Maria gasped, one hand flew to her mouth as tears filled her eyes, and the other landed on her belly in an unconscious attempt to self soothe. Tommy wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close.

Joel had to quickly construct a wall around his emotions–or else he would be useless in the moment. His eyelids slightly lowered as he blocked out their reactions. He only waited for the next task that the doctor gave him.

She prodded and poked you, but you didn't respond.

Then she looked up and turned to Tommy. “I need Amber and Michael.” They were her two assistants. Amber had been a nurse and she had been training Michael for a couple of years now.

He nodded and ran out.

Maria had composed herself and reached for your belt buckle. Joel responded negatively to that and pushed her hands out of the way and took over. She took no offense to it and got out of his way. He had your belt undone and your wet pants off quickly–an act that he was now an expert at.

Tommy, Amber, and Michael all came flying in and crowded around you. Joel was glued to the spot but all of these eyes on you made him uncomfortable, it was like he was no longer present in the moment, like some animalistic instinct was begging to take over- protect, protect.

“Joel?”

“Joel!” Tommy shook him and Joel swatted his arm away from him roughly.

Tommy understood Joel and had seen him at his absolute worst so he didn't take it to heart, but he was worried for his older brother. He was acting like he did after Sarah's death and you were still alive.

“The doc wants us out.”

Joel shook his head profusely–not a chance.

Tommy practically begged him but he wasn't listening. He was just watching them working on you. It was like everything was happening in a daze. All of the motions blurred together and any sound that he did hear sounded like it was far away. Time slowed down and he ignored his brother tugging at his arm.

A loud knock made Joel snap out of it. His eyes were dry from staring and he blinked rapidly in an attempt to wet them.

Nobody had responded to the knocking, everyone was either too busy working on you or too busy worrying over you.

The door swung open so aggressively that the door handle loudly hit the wall behind it chipping the painted brick. Ellie came barging in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

She saw Joel covered in blood, and a look in his eyes that she didn't recognize. “What the fuck happened?” She said as she looked from Joel over to you. Her voice was as strong as ever but her eyes flooded with tears and her mouth slightly opened.

When she looked at him again and saw the mirrored pain in his own eyes. Not knowing what to do, she ran to his arms and hugged him tightly.

His weak excuse of a wall came crashing down as he held on to her for dear life.

It was only then that Maria and Tommy were able to herd them out of the room.

As they waited Joel did his best to fill them in on what all happened, or at least everything that he knew. He didn't really feel like talking. Ellie was livid and full of random questions about your attacker. Questions that he had no clue about. They didn't even really matter but it was her mind trying to make sense of why someone would dare hurt you.

There were two chairs in the now deemed waiting area. Two chairs that neither Joel nor Ellie touched. They simply paced, and paced, and continued pacing. At one point Ellie was overwhelmed with emotion and swiped the contents of a nearby shelf clean off. Joel didn't bat an eye.

Tommy stood solemnly and Maria eventually took one of the chairs. He had told her a few times that they should go home, that she was pregnant and needed her rest, but she didn't say a word–just gave him a look that could kill.

It was mid morning by the time the doctor came out. Her shirt was splattered with your blood and she was drying her hands on a towel. She looked exhausted. Joel and Ellie ran up to her and Maria stood by Tommy.

She explained that it was broken ribs, collapsed lung, and she had tried to operate on her hand, but Joel couldn’t clearly understand anything past she's stable.

She put the towel over her shoulder and stretched her neck from side to side. “They are cleaning her up and then you guys can see her. She’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while, but I do believe she's going to be ok.”

Maria let out a ‘thank god’ and embraced her husband, who also looked quite thankful.

Joel and Ellie though stared in disbelief. Until they saw you they wouldn't get their hopes up. Not that they didn't trust the doctor–they just had prepared for the worst and needed to see you.

After twenty minutes Michael came out and told them they could see you now. Maria insisted that Ellie and Joel go in first. She knew they needed to be alone with you.

The room seemed too bright and the sterile smell was so strong it was almost nauseating. “Oh shit.” Ellie said as the sight before her surprised her.

Joel also couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't know what he had expected but it wasn't this.

You were slightly propped up on the bed, your skin pale and lifeless. Your torso was heavily wrapped all the way down to your pelvis. There was a thin sheet covering your legs and feet. And your hand was placed elevated on a pillow beside you.

But what had caught them off guard was Amber sitting by your side holding a hand held pump, manually pumping air into your lungs.

Amber smiled sweetly at the pair that she couldn't believe were not actual father and daughter. “I know it looks scary, but this won't have to be done for long. It's just making it easier on her lungs right now, she can breathe without it.”

Neither said a word. They just stared.

“I'll give you guys some alone time.”

She stopped pumping and got up to leave when Ellie ran over and started pumping. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Ellie!” Joel fussed. Even though he felt the same.

“No, it's ok. Like I said she’ll be fine without it…Do you want me to show you how to do it?”

Ellie nodded and listened intently to Amber's instructions.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

And just like that, the three of you were alone.

Joel stood still for a moment, then made his way over to your good side. He took your uninjured hand in his. He fixated on the blood and dirt beneath your nails. He wanted to clean them for you, he wanted to wipe every trace of yesterday from you.

Your hand felt warmer than he assumed it would and that gave him some hope. Even though it didn't seem like you were alive, you were.

Ellie was talking to you while pumping at the precise interval she was taught. Telling you how thankful she was that you were ok and what all you were going to do together when you got out of here.

But Joel found that he couldn't speak. In fact he couldn't think of a single thing to say to you except I love you. And he wasn't going to keep muttering that, he'd tell you when you woke. No, he found the idea of talking to you right now somehow wrong.

A few minutes later Maria and Tommy came to see you. Their visit was very short but they both told you how much you meant to them. Before they left they tried to get Ellie and Joel to go home and rest, especially Joel who was still wet and muddy, but Ellie just said ‘not a chance’ and Joel didn't even bother to respond.

The next day Maria had convinced Ellie that you weren't going anywhere and invited her to stay at her place. She knew that being in an empty home surrounded by your things must be hard. Ellie accepted, because that was what she was thinking as well.

Tommys battle was a little more challenging but he eventually got Joel to go home and shower and change. He still refused food but had gulped down three bottles of water.

Joel had not left you after that.

They stopped pumping air into you the following day. Though they still checked on your lungs with a stethoscope every couple of hours. Your breathing had improved dramatically and the doctor had decided to attempt a second surgery on your hand. It went well and she was able to repair more than she thought she'd be able to.

The day after that she decided that your lungs were strong enough and it was time to cut back on your pain medication, it was time for you to wake up.

On the third day since your injury you woke up.

There was nothing and then there was everything. You slowly blinked open your eyes and were at first very confused. You felt pain and then you felt a warmth in your hand. You lifted your head stiffly, looked down and saw Joel. He was almost half draped on the bed, your hand lovingly wrapped in his own.

He was breathing heavily, deep in slumber but you knew he'd want you to wake him. You opened your mouth to speak but not a sound came out. Your brows furrowed and you tried again…nothing. So you squeezed his hand.

He shot up immediately like you'd just pressed his power button.

He blinked a few times like he didn't trust his eyes.

‘Hi,’ you mouthed and smiled at him lovingly.

“Hi,” he said as warmth and disbelief filled his eyes. He held your hand to his chest and returned your smile.

He stood up suddenly, “They need to check you.”

You gripped his hand tighter and shook your head, ‘stay.’

“They need to make sure you’re ok baby.”

‘I’m fine.’

He choked out a laugh through his sudden relieved tears, “No, no you aren't.”

You frowned, was there something you didn't know?

“...but you will be.”

You sat back in relief, wincing as a pain shot through your side.

“Let me get somebody. You're in pain.”

You didn't let go of his hand, if anything you held even tighter.

He said your name to try and convenience you but first he needed to tell you something. “I- I love you. God, I love you.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes, ‘I love you too Joel.’

You had to stay in the hospital for another ten days. You felt dirty, miserable and restless but the pain was at times severe, so much to Joel’s disbelief you didn't really complain about having to stay. That worried him at first but he was also thankful because he wanted you there for however long the doctor felt you needed to be.

Your side still hurts, in fact it really hurts, each movement makes you gasp out in pain. Joel’s always there to help–it's sweet but at times a little suffocating. The swelling in your throat has gone away but you still struggle speaking. Your voice is hoarse it sounds like a croak, and so you stick to one word responses. You don't do much with your hand. It was the least life threatening of your injuries, though, it does secretly concern you a lot.

On the day Joel walked you home from the hospital the sky was baby blue and the sun was beaming brightly. It was a comfortably warm day which was special because it was normally much cooler around this time of year.

His arms were wrapped around you and it reminded you of a much scarier time about two weeks ago now. He didn't say much the whole journey, much too absorbed by similar thoughts.

He helped you up the stairs and when you entered your home you were flooded by the familiar comforting smell. It smelled of the three of you. You were so relieved to be back, for a while you weren't sure that you'd make it back.

The only thing missing was Ellie. You looked up at Joel and opened your mouth to ask where she was.

He read your questioning gaze effortlessly and before you could speak he said. “She's still at Tommys.”

You shook your head, though you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt you a little. Home wasn't complete without her.

He led you to the shower and helped you bathe. He had Ellie pick you up some of your favorite soap the day before in preparation. It smelled of goat's milk, honey, and wildflowers. His touch was gentle but firm enough to feel like he was really cleaning you, which you were thankful for.

When his hand trailed over the green and blue bruise that still covered your side he sighed and carefully brought your body to his. He pressed his forehead to yours and shut his eyes. Water trailed down his wet hair and ran down your body. Your good hand caressed the back of his head and you shifted, lifting up to give him a kiss on his beautiful lips.

You looked up at him and it almost ended him. You were here in his arms, kissing him, smiling at him.

“Joel.” You were proud of how composed that sounded.

His hands caressed your face lovingly and he kissed you again, much firmer but not at all rough. He lifted his head and looked into your moisture filled eyes and said softly, “I love you.”

He washed your body twice, thoroughly. Not just because he loved the feeling of your soft skin, but because he knew that you had felt disgusting after not being able to for so long. He wanted to make sure that you felt pristine.

He asked if you were hungry and you nodded no that you werent, which was true. You were just physically tired, this was as much as you've moved in awhile and your body wasn’t used to it.

“Cold.” You whispered into his ear as he was placing one of his shirts over your head. You weren't really cold, after the shower you were actually quite warm, you just wanted to be in his arms.

Your breath hitting his neck made him shudder involuntarily. “I got you.” he whispered back.

He picks you up slowly, careful of all of your injuries and carries you down stairs and lays you on the ground in front of the fireplace. Then he gets all of the pillows and blankets he can find and makes a comfortable nest around you. He builds the fire and lights it and then lays down beside you, bringing your good side firmly to his. He sighs contentedly as you lay your head on his chest and he presses his nose into your hair inhaling your scent.

“This is what I’ve been wanting.”

“Fire?” You messed with him.

He chuckled. He felt all of the stress begin to leave his body for the first time in fourteen days. His shoulders lowered in relaxation and the lines on his face softened.

“You. You’ve been what I’m wantin’.”

You looked up and demanded the words to come out. “You have me.”

He kissed your forehead and snuggled back into you. His eyes closed quickly and before you knew it he was sleeping soundly.

You weren’t really tired, not mentally at least. You did feel incredibly content though. His breath and the crackling of the fire soothed you and despite the dull ache in your hand and side, you felt ridiculously comfortable.

You shifted slowly so that you could look at him. He looked so at peace, your guardian angel—your protector—your love. You were filled with so much affection that your chest ached.

Everyday since your injury you often found yourself thinking about what he went through to get you home and what a lonely hell that must have been. It wasn’t completely your fault but you still felt incredibly guilty about it. He saved you, and one day if you were ever put in the situation, you hoped that you could save him in return.

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#not for you Rae 💖#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #my fics

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