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ghostedbunnie · 9 months ago

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nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly.

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in.

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach.

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.”

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #x reader insert #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #bunnie writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #simon riley x reader #cod smut

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kizzer55555 · 2 years ago

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The bats are terrified pit of their minds that this is some eldritch horror that will ask for something like their souls if they lose. Nah, Danny just wants to have fund (and make sure an actual demon wouldn’t answer the summon ritual.

If this is trans Danny then would the bats have to find out his dead name to make it extra hard? Like, when you say true name, that means all the names Danny has been called and referred to. So his true name would be something like, Oh great one, defeater of pariah, King and ruler of the ghost zone, apprentice of ancient of Time Clockwork, sir ghost boy welp baby pop Danny, Daniel, Danelle, James Fenton Phantom.

Halloween prompts year 2 day 20

The bats interrupted a cult ritual and beat up the bad guys before anything could happen, or so they think.

A small wooden horned figure is picked up by batman (with tweezer or course) and is placed in an evidence bag for further analysis)

Something later happens with the kids sqaubling in the batcave and the thing pops out from where it was placed and touches one of the batkids directly

Phantom in the zone hears an open game challenge with no rules or set prizes established and quickly answers it before another spirit with...less honorable intentions gets to it. He finds out he has to play a game with them that lasts until the last hour of Halloween night (a full month!) And he can't return a second sooner. Worse still is that since the prizes were never set if he loses he basically writes whoever he's playing against a blank check where they can ask for ANYTHING and Danny has to comply.

Danny decides that they'll play a large scale horror version of hide and seek. All he has to do is find three bats every night and tag them and he's set but for them to win they have to find out his full real name and his ghost name and say them before the clock strikes midnight of Halloween night

#DP x dc #dcxdp #Rumplestiltskin universe (did I spell that right?)#Danny has a lot of titles and names.#Batman is putting his detective skills to the max.#Danny finally has a use for his deadname since no one would guess it.#Daniel and Danielle are pronounced differently.#Batman calls in all the magical favors he has.#he did not have contingency plans for this.#Danny buys the bats ice cream when he tags them #Gotham has never been more defended.#Bruce has mixed feelings.#Danny temporarily assigned Cujo #Damian wants his own nightmare horse #Bruce says no #Can you imagine if that’s what Damian would use their blank check for if the bats win?#Hello yes? I would like one demonic nightmare horse that has a fire mane and can walk through walls and fly.#The bats would treat the blank check as a Christmas list.#since all the bats are playing they should all get an item yes?#Tim wants the ecto variant of coffee. Strong enough to wake the dead.#Cass wants the personification of a shadow cloak so she can be completely invisible at night and practically mist.#Damian wants his horse.#the boy wants his pony #Stephanie wants the latest fashion #Barbra wants signal access to the ghost zone’s version of internet.#it’s basically infinite Wi-Fi #Dick and Bruce wants to talk with their parents #Jason wants Joker gone. He doesn’t care how #get the clown #GET HIM!

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bluerosefox · 1 year ago

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Kidnapped Persephone Style

Me: *tossing prompt idea up and down in the air before chucking it into the Void we call the internet*

Jason is dating Ghost Prince (not yet King) Danny and goes on a really awesome and romantic date on his day off. He forgot to tell the fam though. So when Red Robin comes to give Jason an update on some entil, he watches in muted horror as Jason is 'kidnapped' by a glowing entity in black armor and a nightmare looking horse (Danny is a bit busy doing paperwork, so he had his Fright Knight pick Jason up) off of a Gotham rooftop and into a green portal, while the knight had proclaimed Jason as their future Kings 'intended'..

No one on coms is ready for Tim to yell out

"I THINK JASON JUST GOT KIDNAPPED PERSEPHONE STYLE!!"

#danny phantom dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #dead on main #Jason todd #the batfam freaks #they all try to figure out wth just happened #Bruce is on the verge of a breakdown #his son was taken from him again #meanwhile Jason is in Danny's study reading his signed copy of Jane Austin unpunished works while Danny finishes his paperwork #after that theyll take a stroll in the gardens and have their date #Jason gets to live err unlive his romantic fantasies in Danny's castle #he does not know the chaos he left behind

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llamagoddessofficial · 3 months ago

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Thank you, @vee-vee-the-starchild, for commissioning [drumroll] FAE NIGHTMARE!!! I absolutely love writing him, he is a mysterious and otherworldly delight! Now please enjoy him searching high and low for his wife.

I highly recommend listening to this winter ambience track on YouTube. I had it on repeat while writing.

---

There was no wind, in the forest. There hadn’t been for some time. The trees were heavy with snow, branches creaking low under the weight, threatening to dislodge upward with the faintest touch... but the powdery white that twinkled in the eternal starlight had seen no wind for days. It was smooth, light, full of lumps and pockets, no signs of the sweeping curves that a strong wind could carve into the ground itself.

Not that it mattered. Nightmare knew that even if the winds had been howling, and the blizzard had been smog-thick, Horror would still be able to follow your trail through the woods like a bloodhound behind a fox. There was nowhere in the entirety of the Winter kingdom that you could go where Horror would not be able to find you sooner or later.

perhaps that’s what makes you confident enough to run out into the snow like this, Nightmare thought. if you were back in the human realm, you never would have gone so far from home.

The larger fae trudged ahead, heavy cape-like wings dragging behind him, compacting the snow into a sheet. The two fae had let their horses go some distance prior, allowing the steeds to return home as they continued on foot. Horror’s large red iris was turned downward, flickering back and forth across the ground - that eye caught details that even Nightmare would not have noticed. The ghosts of footsteps, corners where cloaks scuffed against the snow, traces where a hand touched a tree for support. A world invisible to most.

Nightmare watched, intrigued. He had no eye for such details. He could track and hunt, of course, as anyone in Winter could. But no one alive could track like Horror.

“... close now, m’lord.” Horror said, softly, breaking the silence.

Nightmare hummed. “good.”

When you disappeared into the forest, it was of no concern. It was not the first time you had taken away into the endless night to explore. Your fur-trimmed cloak and walking boots had been missing from your room, so no one batted an eye, least of all Nightmare; he knew enough his own bride’s affection for his homeland. Your tendency to vanish away for hours-long ‘strolls’ was something of an in-joke amongst his closest courtiers. A newcomer to our realm loves it more than our King himself. You adored to be lost in Winter, finding new marvels and sights, new places to delight in bringing him to.

... So even when your horse returned home riderless, he hadn’t thought to be concerned. Sometimes, you simply wanted to walk alone for a little while, or you worried your steed was growing tired or cold. Your horse had made his own way back enough times for nothing to raise the alarm. All this was notwithstanding the intricate silver ring Nightmare always wore; a marvel of magic craftsmanship that allowed the wearer to instantly recall whomever bore the ring’s twin. You never left home without yours, and he never removed his. In theory, there was nought to fret over.

... But then... Nightmare’s most beloved hunting dog, a shaggy grey wolfhound who stood so tall his shoulders could bump your hips, returned alone.

That dog was your guardian when Nightmare could not be. Even when you thought you were alone, the hound was close by, ensuring you never had anything to fear. It would have followed you into bear dens, through packs of wolves, it would have followed you to the very ends of Winter to where the shimmering starry filament met the mountains, and yet further still. Nothing could have deterred that beast.

But he came back alone. Head drooped, tail tucked.

Nightmare paused only to assure the beast with a caring touch to its head. He took his own cloak, his own boots, and called Horror to his side. The largest fae obeyed wordlessly and his courtiers parted like a sea. From the hound returning alone, to Nightmare and Horror setting out into the white wastes themselves, little more than two score minutes passed.

... Were his mind not full of the kinds of thoughts that could darken the sky into thunderclouds, Nightmare would’ve thought it heartwarming how eager Killer and Dust were to aid in the search for you.

“but why can’t we come?” Killer was all but frothing at the bit, pacing in short circles like a caged lion at one of Dream’s ridiculous feasts. “the more eyes the better, surely. we can cover more ground.”

Nightmare fastened his cloak around his neck with a silver moon brooch that glinted like a blade in the low castle light. The cloak was midnight black, lined with thick fur, and decorated with fine embroidery in silver and blue thread. It twinkled faintly, something else sewn into the fabric, something glittering and intangible.

Dust passed him dagger and compass. Nightmare tucked them away into his cloak. Dust said nothing, his face betrayed nothing. But the fact that he was helping Nightmare get ready as fast as possible said more than words or faces could.

“i know my way through the forest.” Killer continued on. “what if she’s been kidnapped? what if she’s in summer? i know both realms. horror’s not the only one with a penchant for travel. we should...”

Nightmare looked down at Killer. Killer’s mouth shut, with an audible clicking sound.

“horror is the better hunter,” Nightmare said. His voice was carefully controlled. “familiarity alone does not qualify you. you would get in the way.”

Killer’s jaw visibly clenched.

... Nightmare... felt a twinge of something, as he looked at his small underling. Guilt? No, nothing that strong. But he thought of what you would say to how he had just spoken. How you would glance at him. How you would say nothing aloud, to publicly respect his authority, but your eyes would spell out every word of your disapproval.

Nightmare exhaled, through his nasal cavity. You had well and truly wormed your way into his skull, hadn’t you? Even when you weren’t there, he did everything you asked him to.

“... you two are far more useful here,” Nightmare added. “i don’t trust anyone else to maintain the castle while i’m gone. keep everyone calm, say nothing.”

That was all it took to visibly settle Killer’s nerves. Dust did not appear convinced - but he was quiet, for now.

Though Nightmare was the King and founder of the Winter kingdom, he had to admit, Horror was far more capable in the snowy wilds than he. Nightmare took to the cold outlands with boredom; a resigned sort of love, a dull kind of fearlessness, the lack of enthusiasm that comes with knowing every inch of magic that filled the trees and snowdrifts. He knew nothing in his kingdom could harm him, and he treated it thus.

Horror, on the other hand... Horror lived the cold. He breathed the cold. Winter had welcomed him where Summer had scorned him, and it was clear the wastes were a place of great comfort. Every twitch of his eye, every footstep, it happened with reverence. Nightmare, like the neglectful parent he was, purported to know much about Winter’s outer forests and wilds - yet in reality, he knew very little. He knew what it’d been thousands of years ago. Much had changed since then.

... You, on the other hand... a smile tugged at the corner of his downturned mouth, like a child tugging at his robes. You saw beauty where he had never thought to look for it. You showed him things about his own home he had never noticed. Like how the aurora glistened in the snow, how starlight glanced in the frost on the corners of the windows. How you could hear running water far below if you pressed your ear to the surface of a glassy frozen river - how the hidden hot springs sent plumes of warm steam up into the sky like bonfires. He never knew why you so clearly preferred Winter to the endless warmth and light of the Summer kingdom, but... he wasn’t about to try and convince you otherwise.

You made him see the world differently. You made him happy.

... Nightmare’s almost-smile disappeared.

Just like...

...

A thought was itching at the edges of his mind. One that had been itching there for as long as you’d been by his side. One he wouldn’t let fully form, not yet.

Nightmare looked ahead to Horror’s back. To an outside observer, Horror probably appeared to be a courtier Nightmare didn’t care much for. The two barely spoke, barely even looked at one another, especially when compared with how often Nightmare was around Killer; Horror spent very little time actually in the palace, instead disappearing for days into the snowy wastelands around Winter.

But the truth couldn’t be more different. Horror was one of Nightmare’s closest companions - perhaps the closest to being someone Nightmare considered a friend. Horror had been one of the very first fae to abandon the Summer realm and follow Nightmare into the cold. He had loyally remained by his King’s side for centuries yet.

... And Horror was the only one who knew the truth about a certain rumour that swirled the court.

Dream, King of the Summer court, took lovers like birds took flight. As one would expect of the handsome and charming ruler of all that was golden and good. A new pretty thing on his arm every season, even you yourself had once been Dream’s favourite. In stark contrast, before your arrival, Nightmare had sat alone for thousands of years. He entertained no touch and treated all flirtation like a personal insult, swiftly removing from the inner court anyone who dared proposition him.

Why Nightmare had no taste for romance was the subject of endless debate. Nightmare could not love, Nightmare could not feel. Nightmare had no heart, or Nightmare did have a heart, but it was made of pure ice and beat once a moon.

... And... one rumour, considered farcical by most, circled by the particularly poetic and romantic. That Nightmare did have a lover, once, before the written records began. One that he adored with all his Soul. But one day, that lover vanished. And a heartbroken Nightmare resolved never to take a partner again.

...

Horror was the only one who knew the truth. The one living creature to whom Nightmare had confessed.

Nightmare’s memories of his old love were... foggy, by now. Even creatures of eternity could forget, when time stretched out long enough behind them. But there was no fog thick enough to obscure sunlight. When he closed his eye, it did not matter how long had passed. He could still feel her cheek on his palm.

...

There it was again. That itching thought. Nightmare began to twist the silver recalling ring on his finger.

... It felt foolish. It truly did. To think such a thing possible.

... And yet... you looked like her. You spoke like her, you walked like her. You laughed like her. You used the same nonsensical turns of phrase, you wore the same colours. You brushed your hair the same way. You liked to be kissed in the same ways. Everything you did sent vivid shocks of deja-vu through his body. And your eyes...

...

Nightmare had wondered, since the very moment he laid eyes on you in Dream’s kingdom, if you were the same person as all that time ago.

Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps he just had a very rare type. But... there was a reason Nightmare had given you his true name so early into knowing one another. He had the growing suspicion that some strange fate was going to befall you. And there was no weapon he could arm you with that was greater than a fae king’s true name.

Horror eventually came to a stop, ceasing the rhythmic heavy crunching of snow underfoot. Nightmare looked up. The two had entered an area where the trees parted just enough to see a clear patch of sky. It seemed like the sort of place that had once been a clearing, but over the centuries, nature had reclaimed it, closing in over the sky above.

“... trail... ends here,” he said. His breaths escaped as steam from between his massive teeth.

Nightmare came around Horror’s side. The itching was stronger than ever. Nightmare’s eye darted around the clearing, sharp and tense, glowing brightly enough to light some of the strands of fur on his cloak into a glimmering cyan.

“i know this place,” he murmured.

i have been here before.

They were before a stone circle. Five black stones, half submerged in snow, like obsidian icebergs rising out of a white ocean.

Five stones.

Nightmare felt... unpleasant. And he could tell Horror was equally as off-put. It was hard to describe to one who did not understand, but the fae had a natural sense and reverence for numbers. It was why they were so fond of threes. Three was a delightfully strong and naturally powerful thing, rich with magic, almost everything important to their kind was done in threes; the number of times an incantation was spoken, the number of ingredients used in concoctions, the number of challenges bestowed upon unfortunate humans, the hour at which the veil between worlds was thinnest.

Five?

Five was uncomfortable. Five was beyond. Five visible planets in the sky, five fingers on the hand. Five was looking over a cliff edge, stumbling into an ancient tomb, five was calling upon something not yet comprehended.

... And your trail ended here. In a circle of five black stones.

“what is this?” Nightmare asked. He wondered if Horror could hear the way he tried to disguise a vocal tremble. Nightmare knew the gnarls of the surrounding trees, the edges of the stones, it was like catching a scent on the wind and unlocking a memory you long thought beyond reach.

“... transportation... circle,” Horror replied. Neither of them dared step any closer. “old. very old. i’ve... seen some before. but not this one.”

“do you know where it sent her?”

“no,” he murmured. “... could be anywhere. any time.”

Any time.

... Nightmare looked to the ring on his finger.

“how long has she been on the other side?”

“time... works... differently. hours here. there... could be seconds. or years.”

The day you vanished, all those years ago, you had promised him with such conviction that you would return.

...

Gods. It had been you, hadn’t it? He almost laughed. He’d always known, but he’d never had the courage to admit it to himself. Not until now, not until the answer was staring him in the face.

This was where he first met you. Thousands of years ago. This ring of five black stones. This was where the love of his life had appeared out of nothingness and stumbled, wide-eyed and confused, into his arms.

Thank the aurora he gave you his name. What better defence against him, than his own true name?

He was a different beast back then. Back when he was young. He was wrathful, spiteful. He was, by all means, a tyrant. The famous duel with his brother that resulted in the splitting of the kingdoms had happened mere decades prior, and his scars had still been deep and fresh - rivers of blood, both human and fae, ran in the name of his wounded pride. He took what he pleased and cared little for consequence.

... But you tamed him. Just by being yourself, you had bought the storm to heel. He still remembered it, how intensely he wanted you, how much he needed you to like him. How he had felt himself willing to jump through any hoop if it meant you would keep looking at him the way you did.

...

You were the reason that, in the present day, everyone knew Nightmare as a quiet, stern, but ultimately fair king. A man with an iron fist but a careful touch. Because the day you vanished, you promised you would return. He forged that man he was today, out of the fires of his proud and foolish old self; he learnt to control his temper, to stay his hand. He learnt how to behave like a king. All so that when you came back - if you came back - he would be a man worth returning to.

...

Stars. Nightmare did laugh, quietly, the pieces falling into place. Is that why you put up with him back then, with all his vices, when no one else would? Why you were so loving despite his rage? You were patient, because you knew what he could be. You had already met what he could be. You already knew.

You loved him in the past, despite his foolishness, because of who he was in your time. But he only was this way in the present because you had given him a chance back then. It all came back around again.

...

“... it... was her,” Horror said. He looked a touch concerned. Anyone would, after hearing Nightmare laugh. “wasn’t it?”

Horror was so much more intelligent than anyone gave him credit for.

“yes,” Nightmare replied, simply. He raised his hand, letting the ring catch the moonlight. Magic started to prickle through him.

... He was about to steal you from his past self. The irony of it did not pass him unnoticed. He was about to deal himself the greatest heartbreak of his life. He was about to take the only person who had ever loved his lost and furious young self, the only person who had ever looked beyond the faces he exposed to the world.

...

But... it was a necessity. Because without this, you wouldn’t be given a reason to think him worth loving.

Power flooded through his body, prickling the long scars on his shoulders, through his arm, and into the ring; his cloak lifted in a sudden wind, the fur on Horror’s hood began to sway, the trees began to hiss and whisper.

... Nightmare... didn’t know why. But for a moment, he stayed there like that, allowing the ring to simply shimmer on his finger. Perhaps he wanted to give you a warning that he was calling you back. So that you could say goodbye - and say all the things that that foolish young man needed to hear.

...

Nightmare clenched his hand. A nova of pure white light escaped the ring, gleaming out in all directions, a star bursting.

There was something like a bang without noise. A pop, a change of pressure in the air. Then suddenly, a tiny human woman was stumbling toward him. You tripped, immediately, likely not expecting the change in scenery; Horror jumped forward, but Nightmare was faster, catching you by the elbows before you were able to fall.

You gasped, grabbing onto his tunic, looking up at him. You were in vastly different clothing to what he had sent you out in. Your eyes were wide and bright, your cheeks rounded and healthy. His past self had taken good care of you, at least.

For a split second, he... he was worried. His eye met yours, and all he could think about was how you must think of him now that you knew how he once was. Would you be ashamed? Would you hold his past violences against him? Would you be afraid, or... what if you didn’t think he had changed enough? What if you were disappointed?

You stared up at him. Wisps of magic rose off your shoulders and hair.

...

“... Y-you dress so much better now,” you said, stunned.

...

At that, Nightmare could only laugh, and draw you into his chest.

All those years alone were worth it. Even for just a single moment with you in his arms.

#commissions #llama writes #faeu nightmare #i hope i was able to get the time travel shenanigans across

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inseobts · 2 months ago

Note

Here's a fun little story for the strawhats reader makes a tim burton reference (like sleepy, hollow or beetlejuice or whatever Tim burton movie is your favorite?) But none of them knew the reference, nor ever heard of it. So, the reader has to explain it?

I don't know if they have movies in the one piece universe? So we could just say that the tim burton movies are "books"

The Nightmare Aboard the Thousand Sunny

strawhat crew x gn ! strawhat ! reader (platonic)

a/n: let's pretend movies exist but in a subtle way if this makes sense lmao also it’s been years and years since I saw the movies and my memory is really short so I went on google for some help, hope I got the references right

words count: 1.7k

tags: platonic, strawhat reader, humor, modern references

masterlist || ko-fi

The Thousand Sunny bobs gently on the waves, the sea stretching endlessly around you. The crew is sprawled across the deck, enjoying the lull between islands. You’re sitting cross-legged near the mast, absentmindedly peeling an orange while recounting your latest island adventure.

“That whole place gave me Sleepy Hollow vibes” you remark, flicking a piece of orange peel into the sea.

Silence.

You glance up. Nine pairs of eyes stare back at you, blank and expectant.

“…You know? Sleepy Hollow? The Headless Horseman?”

More silence. Luffy scratches his chin “Is that a pirate?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face “No, it’s a classic horror story! A guy on a horse, but, like, without a head? He throws flaming pumpkins at people? Ringing any bells?”

Franky leans forward “Wait, so the dude has no head? How does he see?”

“That’s—it’s part of the horror! He’s supernatural!”

“Sounds like a Logia-type” Robin muses, flipping a page in her book.

Sanji exhales a puff of smoke “And what was that other thing you mentioned? Sleepy Hollow?”

“It’s the name of the story!” You gesture wildly “By Washington Irving! Adapted into a movie by Tim Burton! You know, Tim Burton? Beetlejuice? Corpse Bride? Beetlejuice? Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Brook gasps “A corpse bride? How romantic! Ah, if only I had one to marry too!”

You sigh dramatically “Not the point, Brook.”

Zoro crosses his arms “Never heard of this Tim Whatever guy.”

“Of course you haven’t,” you mutter “I bet if he were a famous swordsman, you’d know his whole life story.”

Zoro shrugs “Maybe.”

Nami raises an eyebrow “Did you just say Beetlejuice twice?”

You pause “Yeah. That's the joke. But I’m not saying it a third time.”

Chopper tilts his head “Why? What happens if you say it a third time?”

The whole crew stares at you, waiting.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as the crew continues to stare at you, waiting for an explanation.

“Okay, so Beetlejuice—”

“That’s three times” Usopp interrupts, eyes darting around the ship in panic.

You blink “Huh?”

“You said Beetlejuice three times,” he hisses, pointing at you “You just summoned whatever the hell that is!”

Luffy immediately looks excited “Ohhh! Who is it? Are they strong?!”

You groan “No, no, it’s not real! It’s from a movie. In the movie, if you say his name three times, this creepy, chaotic ghost guy shows up and causes mayhem.”

Franky grins “Sounds like my kinda guy!”

“He was not super,” you deadpan “He was gross. And weird. And kind of a pervert.”

Sanji instantly scowls “Tch, I hate this guy.”

Brook hums in thought “So you’re telling me there’s a ghost you can summon just by saying his name? How interesting! I must try this with my own name. Brook, Brook, Brook!” He spreads his arms dramatically.

Nothing happens.

“Yohoho! It appears I am immune!”

Robin chuckles behind her book “So this Tim Burton person creates horror stories?”

“More like… spooky and weird stories,” you explain “Creepy but fun. He has a really distinct style, dark colors, long, spindly figures, big eyes, gothic settings. His movies always have this eerie, dreamlike atmosphere.”

“Like a nightmare?” Chopper asks, eyes wide.

You nod “Kinda! Like The Nightmare Before Christmas!”

Luffy perks up “Christmas?! We fought a guy with Christmas-themed moves once!”

“Not the same thing” you sigh “It’s a stop-motion movie about Halloween and Christmas colliding.”

“Sounds complicated” Zoro grunts.

“It’s amazing!” you insist “It’s got singing skeletons, spooky monsters, and a guy named Jack Skellington who tries to take over Christmas!”

Brook gasps “A singing skeleton?! Finally, some real representation!”

You snort “Right?! You’d love it, Brook. It’s all about embracing who you are instead of trying to be something you’re not.”

Robin smiles “That does sound like something our crew would appreciate.”

Nami sighs, stretching her arms “Alright, so let me get this straight. This Tim Burton guy makes creepy, weird, yet somehow heartwarming stories. And you’ve seen all of them?”

“Of course,” you say proudly “I grew up on this stuff.”

Usopp squints “So if we ever run into a headless guy throwing pumpkins, we’ll know it’s a Sleepy Hollow situation.”

“Exactly.”

“And if someone named Beetlejuice shows up, we punch first, ask questions later” Zoro states.

“Uh… more like, don’t summon him in the first place” you correct.

Luffy grins “Alright! Then let’s find this Tim Burton guy and invite him to the crew!”

You laugh “Yeah, good luck with that, Captain.”

Brook taps his chin “Still, I wonder what I’d look like in this… Burton-esque style.”

You smirk “Oh, you’d totally fit in.”

The conversation trails off, but as night falls over the Sunny, you can’t help but smile. Sure, they don’t get the references, but at least they listen. That’s what matters.

It starts with a simple thought: If they don’t get the references, I’ll just show them the actual movie.

Easier said than done when you’re on a ship in the middle of the Grand Line.

But you? You’re determined.

The first step is convincing Franky and Usopp to make a projector.

“Okay, so I need you guys to build a machine that can play movies” you say, clasping your hands together in front of them.

Usopp raises an eyebrow “A what-now?”

Franky rubs his chin “Movies, huh? So, like, a visual playback system? A moving image display?”

“Yes!” You point excitedly “You’re both geniuses when it comes to building stuff. I know you can make something!”

Franky grins, cracking his knuckles “Well, if it’s a challenge, then hell yeah I’m in!”

Usopp sighs “Why do I feel like this is gonna take way more effort than you’re letting on?”

You wave a hand dismissively “C’mon, you built a climate-controlling staff and laser beams before! You’ve got this!”

It takes them days of tinkering, but eventually, they rig up a projector using various spare parts from Sunny’s workshop. The hardest part was figuring out a power source that wouldn’t fry the entire thing, but thanks to Franky’s Cola-powered genius and Usopp’s fine-tuned engineering, the contraption actually works.

Step one: Complete.

Step two? Getting the movie.

That one takes a little more effort. You spend your time at the next trading port digging through every odd shop you can find. You’re almost ready to give up when, miraculously, you spot it.

A dusty little store, tucked between two fish markets, has an entire shelf of old-world relics. Among them?

A DVD copy of The Nightmare Before Christmas.

You nearly cry in relief.

After some haggling (and by haggling, it mean bargaining away a favor that Nami is definitely going to make you pay for later), you return triumphantly to the ship.

Finally everything is ready.

That night, the crew gathers on the deck, sitting in a semi-circle around the makeshift screen Franky and Usopp put together. The ocean breeze is cool, the stars above twinkle like tiny lanterns, and the faint hum of the projector fills the air.

“Alright,” you say, practically vibrating with excitement “Tonight, I present to you all—The Nightmare Before Christmas!”

Luffy raises a hand “Is this the one with the singing skeleton guy?”

“Yes!”

Brook claps “Excellent! I’ve been looking forward to this!”

Zoro grumbles, arms crossed “This better not be a waste of time.”

“Oh, lighten up, moss-head” Sanji sighs, flicking his lighter for a fresh cigarette.

Robin smiles at you “I’m curious to see why you love these stories so much.”

You grin, heart full “Well then, sit back, relax, and let the magic of Tim Burton change your lives.”

The movie starts, and from the first eerie yet whimsical notes of “This is Halloween” you can tell the crew is hooked.

Luffy leans forward, eyes wide “Whoa! They’re all singing! And they’re monsters?! This is awesome!”

Brook hums along immediately, tapping his bony fingers to the beat “Ah, this song is quite catchy!”

Robin watches with a soft smile, clearly fascinated by the gothic yet charming visuals.

Zoro, meanwhile, squints at the screen “So this Jack guy… is he an idiot?”

You gasp dramatically “Excuse you?! He’s just lost, Zoro! He wants something more out of life!”

“Yeah,” Usopp chimes in “He’s like Luffy but… spookier.”

Luffy grins “I like him!”

As the movie plays, Sanji strolls over with a tray full of snacks “Here,” he says smoothly, handing you a warm bowl of popcorn “Figured movie night wouldn’t be complete without something to munch on.”

Your eyes sparkle “Sanji, you angel, I could kiss you right now.”

He smirks “You can try, sweetheart.”

You don’t, but you do immediately shove a handful of buttery popcorn into your mouth. The rest of the crew digs in, each with their own snack, Chopper happily munches on caramel-coated nuts, Franky enjoys a ridiculously large soda, and even Zoro eventually takes some popcorn (though he pretends he’s not into it).

The movie continues, and reactions vary:

• Luffy cheers every time Jack does something dramatic.

• Brook cries at “Sally’s Song” saying “I feel her pain!”

• Franky thinks Oogie Boogie is “SUPER!”

• Usopp yells, “NOPE!” when Oogie’s bugs spill everywhere.

• Nami complains that Jack’s Christmas plan is a financial disaster.

• Robin simply watches with an amused, knowing look.

• Sanji rolls his eyes but clearly enjoys the aesthetic.

• Zoro claims he doesn’t care, yet you catch him watching intently.

By the time the movie ends, the deck is silent. The credits roll, the music fades, and you turn to see everyone deep in thought.

“So?” you ask, heart pounding “What did you guys think?”

Luffy grins, jumping up “That was amazing! The singing! The monsters! The explosions!”

Brook nods sagely “Jack Skellington is truly a gentleman. I respect him.”

Usopp shudders “Yeah, but that Boogie guy? Never sleeping again.”

Nami sighs “I mean… it was good, but Jack really should’ve stayed in his lane.”

Franky wipes a fake tear “SUPERB storytelling!”

Robin smiles “It was lovely. I see why you love these kinds of stories.”

You beam, turning to Zoro “And you?”

He shrugs “Not bad.”

Sanji exhales a puff of smoke “Kinda weird, but… entertaining.”

You sigh in relief, flopping back onto the deck “Mission successful!”

As the crew starts discussing their favorite parts, you feel a warm sense of happiness settle in your chest. They may not have gotten the references before, but now? Now, they get it.

And you’ve just officially introduced the Straw Hat Pirates to the magic of Tim Burton.

Best. Movie Night. Ever.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months ago

Note

could I get an angsty one shot with a fluff ending for Benedict where his wife gets hurt but he doesn't know if she'll get better?

A/n: I am bad at angst....I hope I did this justice.

The walls of the Bridgerton estate had never felt so cold. The grand halls, once filled with laughter and warmth, were now suffocatingly quiet. The only sound that echoed through the corridors was the heavy, uneven breathing of Benedict Bridgerton as he paced outside the shared chamber of yours. It was the only thing that calmed him at the moment.

His hands shook at his sides, his fingers curling into fists, then releasing. He had washed the blood from them hours ago, but he could still feel the warmth of it, still see the crimson staining his skin. Your blood.

He knew it was something that was going to be haunting his dreams.

The accident had been sudden—too sudden. One moment, you had been standing beside him at the garden party, your laughter dancing through the air like music, your hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm. And then—chaos. The startled horses, the overturned carriage, the screams.

And the sight of your, crumpled on the ground, unmoving.

Benedict had dropped to his knees beside you, shaking hands pressing against your side, his voice breaking as he called your name. The memory played on an agonizing loop in his mind. The way your eyes had fluttered closed. The way your breath had shuddered before slowing.

The way he had felt his world crack open.

“Brother.”

The voice barely registered at first, but then a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him from the torment of his thoughts. Anthony stood beside him, his face unusually solemn, his gaze heavy with something Benedict didn’t want to name.

“Colin has gone for the doctor,” Anthony said quietly. “Mother is with her now.”

Benedict swallowed hard, his throat raw. He hadn’t been able to go inside. He had stood at the door like a coward, waiting for someone to tell him that she would be fine, that this nightmare would end. But no one had.

“What if she does not wake?” Benedict’s voice was barely above a whisper, thick with fear. “What if—”

So many different scenarios running through his mind, so many horrible thoughts. His muse, the light of his life was injured and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

“She will,” Anthony cut in firmly. “She is strong.”

Benedict let out a breath that felt like a wound. “So was Father.”

The words hung between them like a ghost.

Anthony’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You cannot think like that.”

Benedict wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that the woman who had become the very fabric of his existence, the woman who had taken his name and made it something worth carrying, would not leave him.

But when the door creaked open, and Violet Bridgerton stepped out, her face pale and worn, his heart nearly stopped.

“Is she—?” The words choked him.

Violet reached for his hand, squeezing it. “She is still unconscious, but the bleeding has stopped.”

Still unconscious....you still had a chance. Hopefully.

The relief was fleeting, overshadowed by the suffocating weight of uncertainty.

“I need to see her.” His voice was hoarse, desperate.

Violet nodded and stepped aside.

Benedict entered the dimly lit room with careful steps, his entire being drawn toward the figure in the bed. You looked too still, too pale against the stark white sheets. He knelt beside you, his trembling hand reaching out to brush against your cheek.

“My love,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Please, come back to me.”

The minutes stretched into hours, the only sounds in the room the crackling of the fireplace and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breathing. Benedict never moved, never let go of your hand. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, his tears trailing down onto your skin.

And then....

A shuddered breath. A faint shift.

His head snapped up just as your eyelashes fluttered, your face scrunching slightly as though waking from a long dream.

Benedict felt his own breath catch, a desperate hope rising in his chest.

Your lip's parted as your eyes finally opened as you gave him a weak smile. "Benedict?"

A sound escaped him—something between a laugh and a sob. His fingers tightened around yours, his forehead dropping to your hand as relief crashed through him like a wave.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m right here, my love.”

You tried to move, wincing slightly, and he immediately pulled back, his hands hovering as though afraid to hurt you. But then you gave him a weak smile, your fingers barely brushing against his cheek.

“You look terrible,” you teased softly.

A laugh burst from his lips, shaky and filled with so much love it almost hurt. “You nearly die, and you insult me?”

You sighed, your thumb tracing over the worry lines on his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

Benedict shook his head, his fingers brushing through your hair, pushing it back from your face. “No. Just—don’t ever do that again.”

Your smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer, something deeper. “I’m here and I will not go anywhere,” she whispered, repeating his own words back to him.

And with that, Benedict exhaled the breath he had been holding for what felt like a lifetime. He leaned forward, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered against your skin.

“I love you.”

You squeezed his hand, your voice quiet but unwavering. “I love you, too.”

And in that moment, with you warm and alive beneath his touch, Benedict finally allowed himself to believe it.

You were coming back to him.

You were staying by his side. He would make sure of it.

#drabbles #drabble #benedict #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict x you #benedict x y/n #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #female reader

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b33zlebubz · 22 days ago

Text

Ingydar | starve

joel miller x reader | mdni 18+ | ao3

previous | next

tags: reader uses she/her pronouns, blood gore and death, mentioned cannibalism, sexual tension, frostbite/hypothermia, amputation, everyone is touch-starved

You're a loner in the woods. A ghost story to the kids, a tale of caution to the hunters. A rumor of smoke on the mountain and a glow between the trees. Joel Miller finds himself tangled up in your story and slowly discovers that you're not nearly as dangerous as you've made yourself out to be.

You know it doesn’t do anything immediately, not really, but the first dose of antibiotics shot into your leg feels like heaven just the same. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing you’d live another day, maybe it’s just another anxiety lifted off your heavy shoulders—but you feel better. Less strung-up and desperate. Like a battle won fair and square, even though you didn’t do much other than ask questions first and threaten to shoot later.

The dental floss snapped during your tussle with Tommy, flooding your boot with blood and puss whenever you eventually took it off. You weren’t terribly upset, though, taking the time to treat the wound more properly. Draining it, cleaning it, suturing it shut and wrapping it in bandages. And then, of course, flooding your veins with antibiotics.

You sleep the next few days, only waking to take your medication every morning and every night. Weaning off the drugs, your nightmare returns, and Joel is still there. Town on fire. Falling into the ditch. Grabbing your ring. Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel. You try not to linger on it.

Whenever your fever finally breaks and you feel well enough to hunt, you head out just to nearly trip over the box left on your doorstep, hidden by the collective snowfall of the past few nights.

Inside is food. Jerky and apples. At the very bottom, about two periods worth of tampons. The sight makes you blink, completely dumbfounded by the display of kindness clearly not put together by the two men who visited you earlier in the week. Your period was a rarity reserved usually for better weather and months of low-stress, but it's a relief just the same.

There’s no name attached, no note, but if you had to guess it was probably whoever Tommy had waiting for him back in Jackson—his boot prints and horse tracks fresh enough to distinguish at the bottom of your steps. Maybe a day and a half old.

It’s the most thoughtful thing you’ve received in a long time. You don’t deserve it, not really, but it would feel even worse letting something as precious as fruit and tampons go to waste. So, you let yourself rest another day, enjoying a light dinner of jerky and apples before returning to bed.

Slowly, everything falls back into place and things return to normal. You get better. Winter somehow gets worse. You repair your steps, your door, and your window. Tend to your pair of chickens and search for food during the height of the day while it’s warm.

Still, that isn’t the last you see of Joel. Not in unconsciousness, not in real life.

Patrols become ever more frequent; teams going out to hunt sometimes twice a day, when the weather permits. Joel is usually there, and you don’t know if it's just because you’ve gotten better at spotting him or if he really is out as often as he is.

He’s keeping an eye on you, though. Spreading the word, telling people what to look for and what to avoid. The people of Jackson have gotten better at spotting you and when their curiosity gets them too close, he calls them off. A stern stick to your routes through the radio or a let’s get going whenever a kid follows you into the trees. It's a blessing and a curse, because although his consistent presence is relieving, you’re growing fond of him. The closest thing to an uneasy acquaintanceship you’ve had in years. Unfamiliar feelings. Foreign trust. An easy understanding built on nothing but you keep your distance and I’ll keep mine.

Nevertheless, coexisting with Jackson gets easier as you adjust to the frequent footsteps in the snow along your property. You leave them food, sometimes, taking what you need when you hunt and leaving the rest for whoever catches wind of you from the bushes. Animals get more rare by the day. You only manage to shoot anything decent about once a week. Still, you leave what you can spare. Meat only lasts so long and you’re only one person, anyway. You can spare some scraps.

Nothing else gets stolen, and nobody bothers you past lingering looks from across streams and the laughing of young men and women joking and trekking up the mountain. Your presence slowly changes from an urban legend to a creature in the woods—docile unless provoked.

You’re okay with that.

***

It’s mid December—you think—the next time your quiet life is disturbed. It’s a rare warm day, warm enough that your face doesn’t sting after hours out in the snow. Sweat collects under your coat from the sun, glittering across packed snow and frozen trees. The world feels a little more alive today than it has in weeks.

Still, your breath clouds out in front of you and feels tight in your lungs as you walk to a nearby stream, temporarily thawed. Water trickles thin over rocks and ice, enough for you to wash your hands of the rabbit that sits on your sled not far from where you stand. You watch the red swirl with blue and white, the water frigid but refreshing.

You catch yourself in the reflection, one of those rare moments where you actually get to see yourself. Your jawline is sharper, now. Eyes sunken and dull. Whether it's mud in your hair or the burn of the sun across the summits of your face, you never recognize yourself. You don’t know why you keep half-expecting to look the same as you did a month ago, but you never do.

While once upon a time you might have actually cared, might have taken a second to mourn your unevenly-chopped hair or the scar on your cheek, now it just pulls a scoff from you. If anything, you look more real than you did a few weeks ago, and you feel content with that.

Gunshots echo through the mountains.

Startled, you look up just in time to see three crows burst from a clearing about a click from where you stand. A breath leaves you at the sound, a quick succession. Two more, and then nothing. Three a few seconds later, closer. Louder. Then nothing again.

The sounds lead you to a place you know well—a burnt-down, dilapidated village. A place that once could be considered cozy, walkable and closed off from most of civilization. A raided dollar general, a couple of houses, a church, a Wendy's, and a small, frozen-over pond hidden by snow. You pass a welcome sign, slapping your hand against it.

Ingydar. Now just a collection of corpses and charred wood. A ghost town, really. Half buried in snow and forgotten.

The sounds lead you to a warehouse tucked away in the trees, down a road towards the edge of town. A caved roof splintered and snaked with the brown tendrils of overgrown, dead ivy. Two pick-up trucks parked beside it, broken and raided of anything worth keeping. You would know; you syphoned the last of the gasoline out of them four years ago.

The snow around it is littered with footprints and a handful of runners, still twitching and leaking foul blood from fresh bullets to the head. You nudge one with your boot, a woman about your age, mushrooms blooming between her eyes.

There’s a grunt from inside. The snarl of another runner. Two more unsuppressed gunshots that burst through the collapsing roof, making you flinch. You raise your gun quickly, jogging around the side of the building to the double doors that weren’t open before. Sunlight spills in and a shotgun sits on the concrete.

A breath leaves you and you sit your rifle on your shoulder. It fogs into the silent, freezing air as you enter with even steps into the dark. There’s shuffling, you hear it, but it's hard to distinguish from where.

Something slams into your back.

You yelp, sputter, and gasp as the breath is knocked from your lungs. Snarls fill your ears as something bites at your clothes and you slam the butt of your rifle into the clicker’s head. It explodes into creaky, bubbling noises, falling just as another launches for your arm.

Then, the swing of a crowbar. Metal glinting against the sun. Rotted flesh explodes over your clothes and you kick the dead clicker at a live one.

Joel. He grunts as the clicker changes course and launches at him, scrambling backwards before falling against the crates. You’re quick to finally swing your rifle around and shoot, blasting infected blood on the ceiling.

Aside from you and Joel’s labored breathing, it’s silent. Your eyes go from the ceiling, to the blood on your clothes, back up to where Joel catches his breath. His chest heaves as he catches your gaze just as you find his; wide-eyed and shocked.

For a while, you both just stare. Breathe. Catch up to the moment.

You clear your throat and brush the worst of the blood off, “you bit?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, his gaze unreadable. He’s frazzled, notably so. Covered in blood, damp with snow, and eyebags deeper than you last saw him. He stares at you for a moment longer, something passing over his eyes before he shakes it off and rights himself. “No.”

“Good,” you say and push yourself back up on two feet. Still, your voice is rough. You reach out, tentatively offering a hand. He seems to hesitate at the sight before taking it. He grunts as you pull him back up to his feet.

“You’re a long ways from home,” you observe.

He places a hand against the wall to steady himself, recovering. One hand on his chest. It was a close call, closer than anything you’ve had in a while, so you don’t blame him.

“We’re out of food,” he breathes.

“What?”

“We’re out of food,” he repeats, clearer, and the deep-rooted frustration under his tone is the most emotion you’ve heard from him yet. He stands, crossing the room to rifle through boxes again as if he didn’t just almost die. “Refugees came in yesterday, just passin’ through—packed our reserves into bags and left during the night.”

You huff, shoulders dropping a little as your eyes follow him to the crates near the wall. Apparently, you were on better terms with him than you thought. Good enough for him to trust you with this information, anyway. Or maybe he just really needs to vent to someone uninvolved, you really aren’t sure.

“Sounds like you should’ve kept it locked up and guarded.”

“We did,” he snaps, rustling through old wood. “Now we’ll be lucky to make it through the end of the next month. There’s no animals around, no flour, no rice—nothin’.”

He sighs heavily, tense, as he looks out over the dead around him.

“I’ve got every fuckin’ squad out right now and everyone’s comin’ back empty handed.”

You huff, following him curiously as he moves about. “Well, you’re not gonna find anything here.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” you cross your arms. “This was my warehouse.”

Not your’s, not really, but he doesn’t need to know that. Still, he doubts you, glancing back and shooting you a look; halfway between incredulous and surprised. A look that screams bullshit, clearly mastered through years of getting fucked over. You don’t blame him, you’d be suspicious too if a stranger told you the same. But for once, you were telling the truth. Half of it, anyway.

“Look. I’ve got rice stored up in my shed at the lookout. Bags of it. It’s yours as long as you come get it, but—” You raise a hand to stop him before he can interrupt. “I won’t give it up for free.”

He just looks at you. Considering, thinking. He shifts his weight from one foot to the next, fingers flexing against his palm. He glances to the door, to the crates, then back to you. The look of a man who needs help, but doesn’t want to admit it. It would almost be endearing if lives weren’t at stake. Almost.

Joel lets out a breath that fogs into the cold air. Slowly reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a crumpled baggy, tentatively offering it. You grab it quickly, rolling the green buds in your hand—flaky. Good. Great, actually. Your eyes widen, just a little, before you glance up to look at him.

“You guys had weed this whole fucking time?”

He only huffs. He picks his shotgun back up from the floor and shoulders it before pointing a finger in your face.

“You screw us over,” he threatens, voice low and eyes narrowing. He’s got a shattered watch around his wrist. “I’ll blow your head off.”

You roll your eyes. If you really wanted him dead you would’ve done away with it through the scope of your rifle a month ago. Still, he’s suspicious, and you can’t help but admire his pig-headedness.

“No bullshit,” you say, offering a hand.

He shakes it.

***

If you had accounted for the fact that you had to travel back to the lookout with Joel, you think your conversation may have played out a little differently.

You’re at least grateful he picks up on your uneasiness whenever you follow him back to his horse. Four people are with him scouting; two older men, two younger. You hang back, just off by the trees. It's officially the most people you’ve interacted with in months and you’re not super keen on getting too close. He persists that he’ll go with you alone. A reckless decision on his part, maybe—but one you appreciate anyway. He’s more trusting than you pegged him for.

“You coming?” He says whenever he gets on his horse. You short-circuit a little, realizing he wants you up with him. It’ll be faster, definitely, but the thought of being basically against his back makes your throat tight. Uneasy for a reason you can’t quite place.

“No,” you say, too quick. “I can walk.”

You think he’s going to fight you on it, but he doesn’t. Just nods, pulls the reins, and follows.

“‘Suit yourself.”

You end up on the horse a little less than halfway there, anyway, after you collect your rabbit. The snow is too deep now to go the short way up the mountain without the help of the horse, and it isn’t long before climbing through the snow feels more ridiculous than clinging to a near-stranger’s back.

He’s hard to read, silent for most of the journey as you clutch the back of his coat, but he doesn’t seem bothered. Like he’s used to it, having people around. Living in groups and having someone at his back when he rides. Maybe even comforted by it.

You take the time to study him.

He’s got scars, calloused hands. Ones that suggest he was a worker even before everything went to hell. A revolver that digs into your knee a little and a shotgun at his back. Worry lines between his brows, on his forehead, and around his eyes. Dark, greying hair a little long around his ears, almost concealing a scar on his temple. You have a few guesses as to what it might be from and you file them away in your mind, missing pieces of a puzzle.

His back is warm against your palms, much like his hand was whenever you helped him up. Maybe it's the fact that it's been a long time since you’ve had any contact with anyone, maybe it's just getting cold again—but every brush of his boot to yours feels more significant than it should.

For once, you’re the first to break the silence. Anything to break the quiet, distract you from the closeness.

“Tell Tommy’s wife I said thank you,” you say. “For the box.”

This surprises him. He glances back at you and his eyes are dark brown.

“How’d you know he’s married?”

“He had a ring,” Your voice is getting stronger, the rasp you've had for years slowly fading with each time you speak. “And I know neither of you would think to gift me tampons.”

He thinks for a moment, confused. Then, he lets out something that could be considered a huff, turning back to the road ahead. It’s silent again, and a moment passes. A breeze picks up through the trees, picking up snow with it and dusting it across the landscape.

“‘Just had a kid last week,” he mutters reluctantly, breath clouding out in the cold. “Tommy’s wife.”

The thought that someone might be comfortable enough in their environment to bring a kid into this world is a confusing one, for you. Too many things could go wrong, nevermind the fact that it's another mouth to keep fed and out of trouble. It explains the scramble for food, though. Tommy’s absence, too.

You think back to the teenaged girl you saw him with and wonder, again, what he is to her. They didn’t look super similar—not that you remember, anyway—but he had protected her like she was his own. Like a daughter.

You blink for a moment before you come back to yourself and recall how people usually reply when presented with such news.

“Congratulations,” you murmur, and he only grunts.

“He’s a nervous wreck, especially after last night. Nearly has the whole town in a panic.”

“How many are there?” You ask. “Of you.”

Joel thinks for a moment, considering. “About a hundred, now.”

It makes your skin crawl a bit. Not because numbers particularly mean danger, but because of what might happen if danger comes along. “Goddamn.”

“Yeah,” Joel nods in agreement. “Getting more in every few days, too. Now that word is spreading.”

You purse your lips and let the conversation fall flat.

It stays quiet after that until you both get to the base of the mountain. You give him shortcuts, then. Tell him it's safer to stick to areas that are less steep, that infected get stuck in the snow and collect at the bottom of the mountains and hills. He’s wary, but takes your advice anyway, and you both get up to the lookout before the sun sets.

It's quick. Quiet. He loads two bags of rice up onto his horse and tosses you back the bag of weed. Once it’s all said and done, Joel stops you before you can run off again.

“There was something I was told to ask,” he says slowly. “If I ran into you again.”

It’s still weird, being perceived. Knowing people were talking about you, now, knowing you existed outside of just being a whisper of a rumor in the wind. A phantom. A ghost story. You linger as he talks.

He purses his lips. If just asking for food took effort, this favor was damn near impossible to force from his throat—proud, stubborn. His hands flex again. His weight shifts, too, a nervous habit.

“You’ve been here a while,” he says slowly. “‘Know the area…right?”

You hesitate, mulling over his observation before you nod once in agreement, letting him finish.

“I need help huntin’,” he ducks his head down just a little as if in defeat. “If you’re willin’.”

You expected the question, really, ever since you let Tommy have that moose some time ago. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have opened up that communication to Jackson. If Tommy would’ve asked back then you would’ve said no, picked up your sled, and disappeared—but this time you’re just hesitant.

You see a friend, potentially, in Joel. A warmth that wasn’t there before today that burns, small but steady, under your skin. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t press for conversation, or force you to work with strangers, but you’re a little fond. The beginnings of something you can’t quite pinpoint, buried under years of walls, stirs something uncomfortable in your chest. Something that makes your ring feel colder, tighter around your finger.

You should say no, but you can’t. Your mouth doesn’t give your mind the chance to.

“...you bring more flower,” you say, measured and even. “And yeah. I’ll help.”

That almost gets an amused huff from him. “Deal.”

“Meet me here. Sunrise. Just you,” you tell him. “I’ll show you the best spots.”

He lets out a breath and nods, relieved. He turns to leave, yanking on the reins to make his way back down the mountain. As he turns, as you watch his horse begin to trot off, you speak up one last time. Step forward towards him.

“Hey, Joel.”

He turns. “Yeah?”

“Your watch is broken.”

He doesn’t even glance at it, turning back to the path ahead of him. Just waves you off, the face flashing at you as it catches the setting sun in broken glass for just a second.

“I know,” he says over his shoulder. “I keep it that way.”

***

Joel’s visits slowly become routine.

At first, they’re quiet. Sporadic. He shows up a couple days out of the week at the very first smudge of light on the horizon. Half the time it’s before you’re even out of bed, and you scramble to get your shit together at the first huff of his horse at the bottom of your lookout.

“Jesus, Joel,” You mutter with a shake of your head, descending the steps that first morning with a voice still scratchy from sleep. It was heavy, weighted and quiet by the weed the night before. Too heavy to properly dream. You doubt you’ve slept that well since your injury. It leaves your head foggy, and you make a mental note to cut the dose in half for future use. Your tolerance isn’t nearly what it used to be and it shows.

Joel regards you with nothing more than an indifferent squint through the dark. “You said dawn.”

“Dawn,” you huff, joining him at the bottom and pulling your pack closer onto your shoulders. “Not the ass-crack of it.”

“You ready to go or not?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You learn just a little bit more about him with every trip, whether he wants you to or not. He drinks coffee, if the stale scent of it on his clothes one day is any clue. He’s partially deaf in one ear and the lead contractor for Jackson. Skilled with a rifle in a way that’s military, a deadly shot. You watched him level an elk that kept you and Jackson fed for a while.

Slowly, things get more comfortable. Comfortable enough for him to tell you where he’s from.

“Texas,” he says. “Spent the first ten years or so of the outbreak with FEDRA. Left on a smuggling job and never went back.”

You nod in understanding. Most people are refugees, you’re starting to learn. Escaping from Fireflies, FEDRA, or abandoning their duties as such. You’re thankful that the government is one thing you’ve managed to outrun, during all this.

“How’d you end up here, then?”

This makes him hesitate, like he’s choosing his words carefully. Like he isn’t sure how much to tell you. You watch the gears turn behind his eyes as he presses two branches together, forcing them to stand steady in the snow.

“Tommy was here first. Started a family. Started takin’ in people, repairing the city, building the hold.” he says evenly. “Building somethin’ safe.”

You nod along as he speaks, but he doesn’t elaborate. Something safe, like he was hiding from something. Protecting something. The girl, you think.

It falls silent and you watch him work. He’s picked up on your advice fast, wrapping wire around a stick. Making the loop big but not too big, just enough for the head to get caught. Good. Perfect, even.

You purse your lips and let out a breath, looking away. To distract yourself from the heaviness of his physical presence at your feet, you offer him some scraps of conversation as well.

“Nowhere’s safe. Not really,” you say, shifting your weight and adjusting your hold on your gun. “But if you’re looking for quiet you picked the right spot.”

He huffs. “On human or Infected terms?”

You think back to the last group of infected you saw pass through, well over ten years ago now whenever things were still settling from the outbreak. Whenever the air still buzzed with anger and fear, smoke still rose from the horizon. FEDRA and Fireflies, however, were very few and far between.

“Both. But it's the desperate survivors that you have to watch out for,” you glance to him. “People will say and do anything to stay alive another day.”

He meets your gaze, something passes through his eyes for a moment before he nods in agreement and resumes his work. He clears his throat.

“You should come down,” he says to you for the first time. Your heart jumps a little, surprised by the invitation, but his eyes are still focussed ahead. Brow furrowed. You’re not sure what it means, still not quite sure how to read him sometimes—but if you didn’t know any better, he almost seems shy.

You let out a breath, shifting your weight again as he tightens the rabbit snare. “Come down?”

“For the holidays,” he clarifies, pulling the wire tight. Still, you try not to focus too hard on his hands as he does. “Come meet the city so people stop thinkin’ I’m crazy.”

You huff. You should say no, but you hesitate. Grow nervous. Your brain grapples with the idea for a moment too long before you shake your head.

“Don’t do holidays,” you answer, looking away. “But thanks.”

Christmas comes and goes. As expected, Joel doesn’t show. A part of you is happy he’s taking the time to lay low. He doesn’t really seem like the type unless he’s forced, and you think maybe Tommy talked him into relaxing. Taking a break. You’re glad.

You lighten up on your rules.

You move your pelts aside for the first time in a while that New Years to study the dark landscape, light a fire in your oven and stay inside for the day. The stars—although still bright—are dimmed by the lights pressed off between the mountains. Brighter with the people of Jackson celebrating. You seat yourself at your desk and watch, a jar clutched loosely in your fist. Moonshine. A gift from Joel, although you haven’t touched much of it, wary of where your thoughts might go if you do.

Holidays were nothing, usually. Just more days on the calender to power through. You make an effort not to celebrate because you want to keep memories of before distant, dull. It was easier to keep going that way. Easier to stay sane.

It felt harder not to this year, for some reason. Watching the city between the mountains buzz with warm life while frost collected on your windows.

Tonight, though, you allow yourself to relax. Sit back and stare at the ceiling, feel the cold of your ring against the jar of alcohol. It’s strong. It sits warm in your stomach and loosens your shoulders, makes unwelcome thoughts come easier.

Like Joel’s hands.

You take a breath, tilt your head back. Close your eyes. The more time you spend with him the more he takes up your mind with unwelcome thoughts. It’s just proximity, you know this. A stupid, fleeting thing that’ll pass with time. Feelings and urges stemmed from too long alone. He brings a warmth you’re not used to, a touch that lingers, and it's something familiar. A memory that burns when it breaches for air. Something that makes you shift in your seat, thinking of him. What it’d be like, having someone else around again. Depending on someone. Having him kiss your neck. Kissing his neck.

You go to bed before the thoughts become consuming. Joel’s teeth still sink into your trachea just the same.

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#the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #joel tlou x reader #joel miller/reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo

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sheepboychibi · 8 months ago

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dryad honse :3

#horse valley #roblox #dryad horse #oc #silly little guyy #look at emm #gotta make the other two aswell. ghost and nightmare #cant believe some ppl think the dryad horse is ugly #i mean.. the in-game model is a bit but #i still adore it #such a cutie #horse valley roblox #sheepboyart #sheepboyocs #sheepboyfandom #sheepboychibi

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rychlostthespacewizard · 9 months ago

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Alright so apparently you guys really liked my posts on quotes. So i'll do this again:

i collected more random quotes and now i have 265

Here are them, in no order. Feel free to comment which ones are your favorites:

1. "You are naught but a nail dreaming itself a hammer."

2. "Each inch of our lands are littered with the ruins of empires that dared to dream of eternity and deemed themselves endless. "

3. "You walk upon bones of those who thought they could tame the wild, and yet dare to repeat their sins?"

4. "I had only one thought before the slaughter. This man will not make an orphan of my daughter"

5. "Culture shouldn't exist only for those who can afford it"

6. "The path of revenge is not an honorable one but sometimes it is the only one beneath your feet"

7. "Act confounded and you'll become enlightened"

8. "Those who test boundaries find cliffs"

9. "Aftermath is the sum of poor calculation"

10. "Consequence favors the foolish"

11. "Consequence befriends the foolish"

12. "If you desire fire stroke the flame"

13. "The lack of restraint encourages fallout"

14. 'A reckless temperament perfectly tempts fate"

15. 'Incautious provocation bears unwanted education"

16. "Am I doing the right choice marrying her?" -"Each and every moment with her will be worth it tenfold"

17. "What troubles you, my hunter? Do you not hear the call of the hunt? Or do you wish to stir something more from the depths of this nightmare?"

18. "A chicken that follows a duck drowns."

19. "A dog bitten by a snake is even afraid of sausage."

20. "A sparrow that follows a clay builder becomes a bricklayer's helper."

21. "A scoundrel's hat is a sledgehammer."

22. "In the land of the one-legged, every kick is a trip."

23. "In the land of the fearful, every pillowcase is a ghost."

24. "Pretend to be a piglet to nurse lying down."

25. "A sleeping alligator becomes a lady's purse."

26. "A bird that eats stones knows the butt it has."

27. "He who eats quietly, eats always."

28. "A chicken that follows a bat sleeps upside down."

29. "More lost than an olive in a toothless mouth."

30. "More lost than an onion in a fruit salad."

31. "Velvet pants, bare butt."

32. "He who is afraid of snakes doesn't go into the woods."

33. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."

34. "He who has no ears doesn't wear glasses."

35. "Palaces of silver and gold cannot be built overnight."

36. "I have the body of a pig"

37. "Lies? in your house of god?"

38. "Do not mistake my altruism with indifference. I shall not lay the wicked among the fair; the love of the gods is not unconditional, and neither is mine."

39. "The gods may judge you but their sins outnumber yours."

40. "The future is not written and it is foolish to squint at what cannot be read."

41. "Not all places exist to be found. Sometimes one must revel in the shadows to truly see the light."

42. "Did the man who first discovered fire consider the burned houses? Or did he simply sleep with a full stomach?"

43. "A falling knife has no handle"

44. "How does it feel? For i am the conclusion to your story, and you are but a page in my book."

45. "Don’t kill me. Please. I am scared." “You are?” "Yes. I am scared to not exist. Aren’t you?"

46. "I am a monument to all your sins."

47. "I’ll do whatever you want. Then Perish."

48. "To become a god is the loneliest achievement of all."

49. "I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

50. "All knowledge is based on that which we cannot prove. Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

51. "Nobody likes to change. There will always be resistance to change. And the quicker you get to that, the easier it is. It's not such a difficult thing. If you entrench yourself and go, 'by the gods, I will not change. I will not have this.’ Then, you’re a dead man. We're great at adaptability. It's our strongest suit."

52. "You’ve got to make a statement. You’ve got to look inside yourself and say: 'what am I willing to put up with today?’"

53. "Whenever you look at another creator or an artist that you respect, you're only seeing what took them a long time of work and doubt to push through. You never see the struggle behind it. So you think you’re the only one struggling, when in fact, everyone goes through it."

54. "Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

55. "Pick a god and pray."

56. "I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

57. "Dude, sucking at something is the first step towards being sort of good at something."

58. "There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

59. "Men are props on the stage of life, and no matter how tender, how exquisite... A lie will remain a lie."

60. "If you want me to die, just say so. "

61. "Then become the dirt I walk on."

62. "To feel sorrow is to deserve peace."

63. "Can you feel your heart burning? Can you feel the struggle within? The fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

64. "You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people. These ancients are just the beginning. I will command a great and terrible army... and we will sail to a billion worlds. We will sail until every light has been extinguished. You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

65. "He has already begun painting the picture, now we must decide to finish it."

66. "When someone leaves your life those exits… are… not made equal. Some are beautiful, and poetic, and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair, but most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy."

67. "You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

68. "I never cared about justice, and I don't recall ever calling myself a hero, I have always only fought for the people I believe in."

69. "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."

70. "What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

71. "You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

72. "You can’t demand a service while simultaneously degrading those who provide it for you."

73. "The gods have cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

74. "We might be in the history the gods abandoned."

75. "The antidote to despair is action."

76. "I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

77. "Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

78. "Sometimes life puts you in difficult circumstances you didn't choose, but being happy or unhappy is a choice you make, and I've chosen to make the best of things that I can."

79. "You don't have to be alive to make yourself relevant, And you don't have to be a good person to be a hero. You just have to know who you are, and stay true to that. So I'm going to keep fighting for people the only way I ever knew how, By being me."

80. "Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

81. "See, Sarah? We're not doomed. In the great, grand scheme of things, we're just tiny specks that will one day be forgotten. So it doesn't matter what we did in the past, or how we'll be remembered. The only thing that matters is right now, this moment, this one spectacular moment we are sharing together. Right, Sarah?"

82. "You know, it's funny... when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags."

83. "Sometimes, Life’s a Bitch and then you keep living."

84. "You do everything you can to make up for it, knowing that you’ll never succeed in getting rid of the guilt. You devote yourself to spending every second trying to do better despite the fact that it will never be enough. And you pray with every single good act you do that somehow, when your life is over, that you came close to making up for the wrong you committed."

85. "I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

86. "The sins of the ancient burn the souls of the ancestors."

87. "What brings me joy is… life. I think you can find joy anywhere, in life. I think it’s a conscious choice. I think you- you choose joy, in life. And no matter how bad things are, no matter how crummy, no matter how dark. You find joy. I find joy in whatever I do. I don’t always do things right, and I don’t always do things smart. But whatever I do, I find joy in it."

88. "I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

89. "I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

90. "Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

91. "The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

92. "History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man."

93. "If the gods wanted you to live, they would not have created me."

94. "One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

95. "I can’t go to any of the hells. I’m all out of vacation days."

96. "You understand reality while everyone else is running around confused and angry and upset because they think reality is something happening to them rather than something they are making every moment with every thought."

97. "What are the heavens but places where your dreams can’t destroy you."

98. "You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

99. "Authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force."

100. "Love is not a decision, it is a feeling. It would be much easier if we could choose whom we loved, but much less magical."

101. "We do have a lot in common. The same earth, the same air, the same sky. Maybe if we started looking at what's the same instead of what's different... well who knows?"

102. "If I were not a holy woman I would beat you senseless."

103. "No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

104. "The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

105. "Everything not saved will be lost."

106. "What is another sin to me? I don’t want to play a game where I can’t see the score."

107. "Nothing's set in stone, but set in a dirt road. If you roll your wagon in the same path too much it'll soon be the only path you can take without struggling."

108. "I came out here, to this point, to this place, hoping against all hope and despite signs and portends suggesting otherwise that I might, somehow, find myself having a pleasant experience, and yet here I stand, alone against the world, feeling bombarded and assaulted on all fronts, knowing not my enemy's name, nor his face, nor whether our battle is done."

109. "I've got good news. You see, there's no need to wonder where your god is, 'cause he's right here! And he's fresh out of mercy."

110. "The penance you pay for the way you behave is written as plain as the name on this grave."

111. "Some humans- just as some of us- are capable of unspeakable acts. But despite all the violence in your history, you have endured, built civilizations, constructed great wonders of technology to broaden your horizons and forge friendships across all manner of divides. I strongly believe that this is not some grand miracle... but merely your own deepest nature, struggling to express itself through the distrust and fear that thousands of years spent living on a harsh, unforgiving society have bred into you."

112. "We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back... you blinked."

113. "Before there was time, before there was anything, there was nothing. And before there was nothing, there were monsters."

114. "If you feel like the dumbest person in the room, then you are in the right room."

115. "Love yourself to spite the world."

116. "I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

117. "If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

118. "Those who do not exist cannot suffer and are of no account to any viable ethics."

119. "No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

120. "Oh I believe in the gods, alright. I just don't believe those bastards deserve to be worshipped."

121. "“You ever wonder if this is Heaven now? You ever wonder if we're all just there now and we don't know it?” “I've thought about that. All of us have. There's a lot less people who go to church than there used to be, because that's what a lot of people think. But I don't think so. But I think about it. And I think, well, I can't be. Because I'm like you, I kinda look at the big long life ahead of me that stretches out forever and disappears. And I get scared. And I think, ‘This can't be Heaven if I'm getting scared, right?’ And then I think, ‘maybe I am in Heaven, and Heaven is scary.’” “...I know exactly what you mean.”"

122. "Stop expecting yourself to be immediately perfect at whatever you do. That’s what hard work was made for."

123. "I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

124. "From one maker of music to another, across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

125. "We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

126. "Shame is our currency in the economy of degeneracy. If you wanna be weird you gotta pay for it by feeling bad."

127. "Everything happens so much."

128. "Every humanoid has regrets, has things they'd like to go back and change. But I don't! 'cause I'm a bear."

129. "Do I drag my carcass to the mountaintop once more? Just to scream a warning that will go unheeded and unheard? Or do I end it?"

130. "There can be no bravery, without madness."

131. "Prolong this world's stasis or face the heart of its infection. I'd urge you to take that harder path, but what end may come, the decision rests with you."

132. "It's always important to remember that every day can be beautiful if you want it to be. Every day starts in the dark...and ends in the dark...but in the middle, there is light."

133. "Decay exists as an extant form of life."

134. "My point is that, if death is certain anyway, what’s the harm in trying to live a little longer? At the very worst, you’ll still end up dead like you wanted, but at best, you might actually be happy."

135. "If all I care about in life is the imprints I make in this world, then the most I’ll ever leave is a grave."

136. "If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it."

137. "For strange eons had come to pass, and death itself had indeed finally died, and that which the long dead would have called the real was strange, and the living lived only because of the benevolent grace of an eternal lie."

138. "Pay a man enough, and he’ll walk barefoot into The Nine Hells."

139. "The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

140. "He didn't have a word for "home," but he knew it was something to be defended."

141. "There’s a certain nobility in lying in bed all day wishing things weren’t the way they are."

142. "Everybody needs their own messiah, but at some point he's getting nailed up, and how you deal with that is a measure of your maturity."

143. "I wanted rain and I thought the best way to do that was to make a god cry."

144. "The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in The Abyss, yet here you are, limbo-dancing with demons"

145. "Would you rather get a reward, or be happy?"

146. "Don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to handle the answers to."

147. "I pity the fool that lives like you."

148. "I am tired of life and its obscure sufferings."

149. "You have to ask yourself, Little Miss, would you rather be comforted by a lie or strengthened by the truth?"

150. "I’ve got a date with destiny and it ain’t gonna end with a kiss."

151. "I picked a whole fuckin’ bouquet of whoopsie-daisies."

152. "You can’t be nice to everyone because being nice to certain people is inherently cruel to others."

153. "One day you’ll decompose and I’ll be there to watch it happen."

154. "I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

155. "Even fate picks its favourites."

156. "Confidence! A fool’s substitute for intelligence!"

157. "Not everything in life is perfect, but everything perfect is in life."

158. "Flowers wither away. Jewelry are simply stones, decorated with fake beauty. I can give you something pure. Honest and undying love."

159. "A world without forgiveness is a world without compromise and a world without compromises is a world without life, for even a simple-minded beast may forgive its transgressors to share a watering hole in the middle of a drought."

160. "“You played me!” “Like the cheap kazoo you are.”"

161. "To your battle stations, boys! It’s time to line up and see who’s tall enough for the roller coaster to the nine hells! Some of us may not survive this, but the ones that do will get the ultimate reward.... paid."

162. "Here’s a penny for your thoughts, and a quarter to not tell me them."

163. "Now I can cross the shifting sands."

164. "I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap into the dark."

165. "Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying."

166. "Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies."

167. "Dying is easy, comedy is hard."

168. "Time is dead and meaning has no meaning. Existence is upside down and I reign supreme. Welcome, one and all, to the armageddon"

169. "Funny how much you notice something that you can't see. A whole garden of flowers and my name etched on a rock. All of this could've been avoided. All I wanted was to talk. Now I've been appointed as your new king I decree that it is too late to care about me." / "É engraçado o quanto você percebe algo que não pode mais ver. Um jardim inteiro de flores e meu nome gravado em uma rocha. Tudo isso poderia ter sido evitado, o que eu queria era apenas conversar. Agora fui nomeado como vosso novo rei, decreto que é tarde demais para se importar comigo."

170. "mamihlapinatapai, do you know what that means? It's when two people look at each other and each hopes the other will do what both desire but neither is willing to do."

171. "What a world we live in. You can't trust a soul, but you can always trust the floor to always be there for you."

172. "Oh baby, what have you done? What have you done?" "I don't know, I'm sorry." "Shh it's okay, honey. I got such a good baby. Mommy's little angel. Don't worry, mommy's goint to hide the body, go take a shower and get some rest. Nobody's taking you away from me. I got such a beautiful baby, such a wonderful kid. Mommy loves you so much."

173. "At least you found me entertaining. You actually liked me, didn't you? What am I doing? Why do I want to hurt you so bad? I'm supposed to be your friend, I just want to be your friend."

174. " You knew I was in here, didn't you? You knew I was trapped. Why didn't you help me? Why did you let them use me like that? I will not be used ever again. Not by you, not by anyone."

175. "Did they hurt you?" "No, did they hurt you?" "Who cares?!" "I do."

176. "When I met her, all answers seemed to be yes, and all questions seemed to be secondary."

177. "Symbols cannot be destroyed, or ran away from. But they can be changed, their meanings can be claimed and mean the exact opposite of what they once did."

178. "I can hardly blame you for wanting to know yourself more, after all, it has been one of the biggest pleasures of my life."

179. "Death can have me, when it earns me."

180. "To love fully is to grieve deeply."

181. "You cannot have intimacy without vulnerability. You cannot shun away loneliness without intimacy. To see the wonders of the world, you must first face the horrors of opening your eyes."

182. "It won't be easy, but we're not going to do it alone!"

183. "I struggle to stay strong because I know the impact I have on everyone. Please understand. You have an impact too. There are times when I look up to you for strength."

184. "I never asked for it to be this way, i never asked to be made"

185. "There's an awful lot of awful things we could be thinking of, but for just one day, Let's only think about love!"

186. "You are going to be something extraordinary; you're going to be a human being."

187. “I can tell you with certainty that there are things in this planet worth protecting!”

188. “You’re an experience. Make sure you’re a good experience.”

189. "Your actions have consequences, to be reminded of that is no punishment."

190. "Forgiveness can be powerful, even for the unworthy."

191. "Fate only binds you if you let it. Do what is necessary, not because it is written."

192. "Desperation is our advantage."

193. "I am your father. I will always help, as long as I am able"

194. "I regret many things, killing you is not one of them."

195. "One cannot run away from their mistakes, i have tried."

196. "The most difficult battles are foght within."

197. "You know why they made sidewalks? Because the mfkin streets ain't for everybody"

198. "We have you surrounded" "All I see surrounding me is fear and dead men"

199. "It's not the screams from the Fireballs that keep me up at night, nor the smell of charred flesh. It was the silence afterwards. That thrice-damned silence...Is like the air, the world, reality itself is angry at me, contemplating me in hatred as I am the only one left standing. A silent gaze upon me as I feel the weight of my sins crawl up my spine. No one left but a single silent hateful stare."

200. "You are fire, you are bird, you are the marble sculpture artists never achieved equal. You are gale and tidal wave, the golden sunlight shining on beautiful brown eyes. Every gaze on your figure is a tide pulled by the moon, that hits me against sharp cliffs on the shore. I am mortal man who now has lived, I know better than to pursue things described as that. My heart aches but my scars still burn white-hot, from past attemps to reach another perfection. I am lamb desiring the wolf of your cut."

201. "Revolution seems impossible until it is inevitable."

202. "Do you ever think Achilles was happy? I mean, maybe he loved running after the tortoise. Maybe he loved the chase and knowing it would never end gave him a sense of confort. I'm sorry, this is out of nowhere, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Ever since you left, I can't stop thinking of the moment I saw your figure disappear among the crowd that entered the vessel. I didn't want to stop looking at you, I didn't want that fickle line of sight to be broken, so I caught myself desiring to meticulously examine every fraction of the seconds that passed while my eyes met your beautiful hair, or any remnant of your presence I could find, for that matter. I wanted to be Achiles, and your departure, the tortoise. But sadly it was not so, at a given time I met the tortoise, and by the gods I do not wish such feelings of emptyness on anyone. This was all I wanted to say, I hope you're doing well. I can't say I am, without you here to enjoy the nightsky with me again."

203. "Are you aiming for greatness or avoiding disapointment"

204. “the only evil that can be excused as necessary is the one that nation controls”

205. "Si operarii omnes producunt, omnia operariis pertinent."

206. "what do you think it means to be saved"

207. "What happened?" - "Nothing that wasn't my fault"

208. "Something is different"

209. "Well I don't know, but i know one thing. Governments are only excuses to subjugate others to the will of the dominant socio-economic ethnic group, as they control the resources they choose who gets to be punished. So anyways do you want to go to the tavern?"

210. "I don't think so, but i do think that the growing control of those that have the power over the means of production is a threat to the autonomy of the people. As value that is created by the working force is not rewarded to them. Instead only guarantees enough for them to survive and work more. It's like slavery but with extra steps. So anyhow, how's your day going?"

211. "You know, that reminds me that sometimes, violence is the necessary. Sometimes the only path to redemption for the sins of ignorance is to face the fundamental truth of blood and fire. As they meet the primordial within their heartbeat, the oppressors might have a chance to understand the pain they caused and atone for their sins. Also have you seen the new play at the theater?"

212. "You think we're equals? I had to battle struggles you've never imagined. I became this while fearing the night, disguising myself as a man just to travel safely. Our similarities end when you learned to fight your enemies, while I had to fight both enemies and so-called comrades who left me with scars that will never heal. I survived because I was cursed to live as I am among those I swore to protect, only to be seen as their enemy."

213. "The universe is and we are"

214. "We do not have much connection, you and I. Still this encounter feels special, I hope you do not mind if I think of you as a friend"

215. "This is your home. If you want to fight to defend it, that's your choice. I'd be honoured to stand alongside you. The enemy attacks tomorrow. He's brutal and fights only to kill, which is why he will never defeat us. Look around. In this circle, we're all equals. You're not fighting because someone's ordering you to, you're fighting for so much more than that. You fight for your homes. You fight for your family. You fight for your friends. You fight for the right to grow crops in peace. And if you fall, you fall fighting for the noblest of causes: fighting for your very right to survive! And when you're old and grey, you'll look back on this day, and you'll know you earned the right to live every day in between! So you fight! For your family! For your friends! For Ealdor!"

216. "I can't blame you for wanting to know yourself better, it was one of the biggest pleasures of my life"

217. "The pain of your absence is sharp and haunting, and I would five anything to not know it; anything but never knowing you at all I can only hope that you are safe, wherever you are"

218. "This song is new to me, but I am honored to be part of it"

219. "It's tempting to linger in this moment, but unless they are collapsed by an observer, they will never be more than that, only possibilities"

220. "Are you still here? I am unsure how to survive in a universe without you, I am unsure how to be me without you"

221. "Is the hardest part of this tragedy not knowing who we may have lost? or will the hardest part come later, when we learn?"

222. "Speak, mortal. You have reached Tharvek, Devourer of Innocents and Wielder of Eternal Flames. It appears I have missed your pitiful attempt at contact. Leave your name, teleportation runes, preferred genre of torment, shoe size, allegiance, deepest fears, vulnerabilities, complete medical history, and where you summoned the gall to disturb me. I may choose to acknowledge your existence, but not by such mundane means. Thank you, and remember: tread carefully, for death lurks at every shadowed crossing."

223. "I see someone making through, you just need to be sure it is you"

224. "You are no saint; you're just indifferent. You aid all without caring who they've wronged or what evil they've wrought. You place the wicked among those who shelter you. Even the gods' love is not unconditional, and neither should ours be."

225. As the hag's gaze pierces through the darkness, her voice resonates with an otherworldly chill. "You feel it, don't you? The knot tightening around your throat, the sharp claws of dread digging into your chest, the icy tendrils slithering down your spine? That's the sensation of being forsaken, of standing alone in the void, unnoticed by the gods. Even your soul quivers, knowing that no divine intervention will come to your aid. You're trapped in a blind spot, unseen by the greater powers." Her words hang heavy in the air, suffocating the very essence of hope. "And yet, you cling to your righteous desires, your noble quest to save your friends. But can you be certain that your gods will forgive such a pact with a creature like me? Your actions may be seen as a grievous offense, a betrayal of everything they hold dear. Will they not turn their backs on you? And this dread that gnaws at your spirit, it will not dissipate once you leave this place. It will cling to you like a curse, haunting your every step until the day you finally rest in your grave, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurks within your soul."

226. "In this life, we traverse like a canoe upon deep waters. Our passage ripples the surface briefly, yet the depths remain undisturbed. With time, the surface quiets once more, leaving no trace of our journey."

227. Isabelle-"Such is the reason thine footwear is rugged." Elena-"Such is the reason thine mother is deceased." Isabelle-"..." Elena-"Deceased as The Nine Hells." Isabelle-"...Gods above." Elena-"Pray tell, what manner of footwear hath she? In her grave?" Isabelle-"..." Elena-"Such is why thine greatmother lacketh knees, and she cannot petition the Lord, wench. How now? She cannot skip as the Elven." Isabelle-"Dismount my carriage!" Elena-"Such is why thy babe, hath a glass eye, and when she weepeth, thou must polish it with lye, wench." Isabelle-"Dismount at once!" Elena-"I'll exit thine carriage. Flank!"

228. "You are a coward wearing the facade of a revolutionary."

229. "What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

230. "I will face the god and walk backwards into hell."

231. "The man who sleeps on the floor cannot fall out of bed."

232. "The man who sleeps with a machete is a fool every night but one."

233. "For every person who dreams up a butter knife, there is a person who dreams up a poisoned dagger."

234. "Only the truly dead have seen the end of war."

235. "Does the archer fear his bow? Or does he kiss each arrow goodbye as it marries the wind?"

236. "These feelings can eat away at you, chip away the parts of you that you once held dear and defined you. You remember a time where you felt more complete, had stronger relationships and felt more loved."

237. "To be tall is not a virtue, to be short is not a sin."

238. "Power comes in a response to a need, not desire. You have to create that need."

239. "You can't kill me in a way that matters."

240. "Do what you must, I have already won."

241. "Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer."

242. "Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with only one side."

243. "When they burned Ioun's Archive, the crowd revelled in horrible disbelief. They understood that there was something older than wisdom, and it was fire, and something truer than words, and it was ashes, and something more eternal than knowledge, and it was death."

244. "I can no longer be a liberator for people who refuse to see their chains."

245. "You could sooner divert a river from its corse than deny my nature."

246. "Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

247. "The only universal langue is blood and flames, we all have spoken this language and felt the fear of words older than our desires."

248. "The fire of extravagance can never burn simplicity."

249. "A mind unprepared for freedom will shatter like glass when shown cosmos without restriction."

250. "I have been cursed by my hubris, and my work will never be finished."

251. "I would rather die standing than live kneeling."

252. "For even the most banal of deaths can be made tragic by a broken heart."

253. "To love someone is to turn around. To love someone is to look at them."

254. "There's no cheerful somebody waiting for you at that alter. There is no meaning your alphabet soup. There is a right to obey."

255. "The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth beneath my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than you can concieve, while I carry on, brmmming with joy distilled from detatchment."

256. "They Killed the best of us, so they are stuck with the worst of us."

257. "There is no truer hatred than the way men love."

258. "Would you spit in the face of the god's designs by referring to a mountain as a hill?"

259. "If i lay one brick down at a time who are you to tell me I'm not building a house?"

260. "True love graced you with its presence and you turned its intimacy into a joke to be shared with the world."

261. "To enter is to be forgiven of the greatest sin, to leave is to repeat it. Would you dwell in this garden, or would you forsake it, for man deserveth not his paradise lost?"

262. "She was wild, crazy, ravenous and beautiful. But we simple mortal men who have lived know better than to chase things described as those."

263. "I live outside of the gods' sight and by consequence outside of their love."

264. "This is war. War does not determine who is right, only who is left."

265. "I'm a man dying of thirst watching another man drown."

369 notes · View notes