#spring beak

[wmu-cedes]

"Do you not like to drink?" Mercedes asked, taking a healthy sip from her glass. She hadn't heard of Dave being big into drinking back home, so she figured he might let loose on the trip, but it didn't seem like that would be the case.

"Honey, everyone is happier than during the blackout." She stated with a chuckle. "I want to go dancing at some point I think, maybe go exploring - but mainly just partying. What about you, boo?"

“Don’t worry, I should be good. I don’t have a buzz yet, or anything. I’m not drinking much.” He took a deep breath and then ordered with the bartender. “You look much happier than at the blackout.” Which was the last time he remembers seeing the woman. He can’t remember ever having a real convo with her. “Then again, anyone would be. are you planning on doing other stuff during the trip, or just partying?”

[updatebug]

Anyone else desperate for some Pok Gukgak POV of the meeting Riz in hell scene, or just me?

It was a relief to feign unconsciousness.

Pok was used to torture. It was part of the job. And for all that they had hellfire and menace, the denizens of hell it seemed, were no more inventive than the monsters he’d met in Spyre. Pok was very used to withstanding pain. And anyway, he’d been killed by a dragon. Fire was practically an old friend.

What he wasn’t used to was ‘Pok’ being tortured. All those others had been on the job, a different name, a different person, a person who didn’t have a wife or a son, who couldn’t have them used against him. His cover almost cracked when they brought up his wife and when they mentioned Ri – his son. His son who should have nothing to do with the horrors of this place, he fumbled his words, barely managing to recover before the pit fiend could notice a weakness.  

As they left the pit fiend snarled something about Seacaster and Pok filed that away in his mind for later as the door slammed shut. And then he was alone, slumped on the floor of hell and bleeding. One step closer to completing the mission.

A brief flicker of coolness, and then something in the room changed. Pok’s ears pricked at the faint sound of too-fast breaths as whoever had appeared in the room stood over him. An Imp, maybe? He was being moved? They had mentioned Seacaster.

The footsteps moved closer and the breaths hitched, a soft waver in the rhythm, and then there was click – a lock being opened. Pok was far too well trained to frown, and kept himself limp as whatever it was leaned over him. His nose twitched, a faintly familiar smell reaching it, ink and gun oil. A click from the door, followed by a snarl and the figure above him froze for a single moment, before reaching for Pok again. There was a scuffle above him, the scorching heat of a demon – wait, no, two of them – suddenly back and over Pok as the figure was pulled away. Pok cracked his eyes open and – no!

Riz.

It couldn’t be Riz.

One of the devils had his son by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back as his son twisted and tried to writhe free, panic on his face. In his hand he was clutching on open briefcase, the second devil holding the other handle as it tried to yank it way from him and Riz clung desperately, claws scratching against the leather. His other hand was still reaching for Pok.

A familiar calm fury washed over Pok.

He wasn’t armed. He didn’t need to be. Riz had visited the graveyard enough times – he knew where his son had kept his gun.

He slipped the arquebus out of its holster, felt the familiar weight of the gun in his hands for a second – fully loaded – and fired twice.

The devils fell backwards, Pok didn’t see them hit the floor, eyes fixed on his son’s face. Riz staggered as he was freed, staring back at Pok just as hungrily, there was blood on him, bruises on his skin, tears on his clothes. His eyes were red, like they were holding back tears – the cold from earlier, he’d misty stepped in, he’d been beyond the mirror, what had he seen? What had he heard? – Pok didn’t take his eyes off his son as he slapped his hand to his ear.

“This is Gukgak, I need an extraction.”

He barely waits for a response, letting of the little seed of angelic power that had been buried deep, deep beneath his ribcage and feeling the halo snap into place behind his head.

Riz’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open disbelief and profound relief storming across his face to be replaced by sheer delight. Pok reached out, grabbing his son’s shoulder finally, finally touching his son.

“Kid, I can’t believe you made it here,” he managed, holding his son tightly. The fear, the horror he had felt at seeing his son here, in hell, in the hands of those devils, buried beneath the sheer, overwhelming joy of just seeing his son.

“You’re an undercover angel?” Riz yelped.

“You got it kid,” Pok agreed, and celestial energy slammed into them, snatching them both away from that place.

Pok wrapped his arms tight, tight, tight, around his son, and let the light carry them away.

[coffeenuts]

[emh-photos-art]

Capture 52 2023, Week 21 Theme: Hidden This robin tried but was not able to successfully hide from me.

[acotarxreader]

Mirror

Rhysand x Reader and Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: You were gifted with the ability to mirror other fae's magic with a simple touch and your free spirit nature leads you to cross very close to the borders of a hidden city, where your future best friends and soulmate snatch you out of the sky to protect their border.

Warnings: ANGSTY AF, a lil fluff, action, mentions of injury and breaking bones, silly Rhysand, high drama

Inspired by Tolerate It & My Tears Ricochet by Taylor M.F Swift

A/N As voted for by you friends! (Kinda fitting you choose the taylor inspired fic when I'm off to have her change my life lol) Okee this is a long angsty buddy. I used the timelines from this website and I hope that translates well.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

1692

You had met your three best friends including your soulmate by pure luck of the Cauldron. Lost along a long mountain road, you wandered through the hills of a stretch of Night Court long-forgotten, as the Spring snow settled. You moved through the overgrown coastal trail, the shadows of the trees allowing you to shield yourself from the elements as you used your ability to shapeshift into the ease of the eagle cutting through the air. 

A bloodcurdling roar left your hooked beak, plummeting through the canopy of trees, using a strike of power to change to your Fae form, the arrow split through your upper arm where a wing had once flown. You rolled as you hit the ground, absorbing the force and pushing it away again, splitting the soil. You lay for a moment looking up at the night sky you had just cut through, gaining your bearings, your skin fusing around the arrow and pushing it out of your skin without your intervention. You sat up at the sound of light feet crossing the undergrowth before forcing yourself to stand, a hand hovering over a blade strapped to your leg. A knife sailed through the air, darting past your head, missing you by millimetres to sink into an oak tree. 

“Look, I’m not super into this covert ambush nonsense” You called out, your voice bouncing off the flora. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes lightly before spinning on the ball of your foot, releasing your knife from your thigh through the air, the sound of sharp groaning your reward. You followed the path of the blade to find a young Illrian, one wing pinned to an ancient tree, blue syphons shimmering to match his hazel eyes. 

“Damn, I’m rusty, I was aiming for your shoulder” You mused quietly, Azriel’s eyes scrunching before he reached for the blade, only to have you do it for him, freeing his flesh. The act of freeing someone you intend to hit confused him. His hand went to cover the spurting blood, a glow seemingly radiating from your energy, Azriel wishing to bask in it for the rest of his days.

You outstretched a hand to pull him to his feet, Azriel entirely confused but equally enchanted. He contemplated taking it until you spun back away from him to send your knee up and into the stomach of another hazel-eyed Illyrian. 

Cassian took the brunt of your knee but was mostly unshaken, stretching to catch your throat with crushing force. You managed the lightest of light laughs through your shrinking windpipe before flexing your fists. Cassian suddenly felt your neck seemingly harden against the strength he exerted on you. Your muscles almost looked to toughen in his grip before he released a single drip of pressure on you, enough for you to winnowing to behind him, sending your elbow into the back of his head with a crunch. Azriel’s shadows shot forward the action causing an obvious smile to decorate your face, the Shadowsinger’s eyebrow raising as he attempted to stand again as you dodged his dear smokey friends, only one crossing your hand. 

Rhysand flew into your side as Cassian reached the ground, the two of you rolling briefly, matching your winnowing course with unrelenting precision. You felt a grin grow as a slight stream of blood sprang from your forehead, mirroring the one from Rhysand’s lip. An onyx shadow darted from one of your flexed fists, knocking Rhysand backwards from on top of you, his wings splaying to rebalance. Azriel jumped to pull Cassian back to his feet, not quite sure he had truly seen what he had from your fists. 

“Oh, another High Lord’s son” You half laughed as you managed to stand to put space between you and the three warriors. 

“Who are you!? Who sent you!?” Rhysand barked, his two brothers now flanking him, syphons gleaming in the moonlight. 

“I’m just out for a leisurely trip through the Night Court, your Lordship” Your opal eyes shimmered briefly, stunning the three for a microsecond, your smile daring them to play with you. “No such thing as leisurely in the Court of Nightmares” Cassian matched the tone of his brother, the voice that boomed through legions. 

“You don't think I actually believe that?” Your amusement had Rhysand seething as Azriel studied you carefully, his shadows leaping to his ears with the rapid relaying of information, his eyes widening. 

“Enough” Rhysand’s hand raised to turn you into the same mist that decorated the hillside, Azriel suddenly leapt in front of the son of the High Lord of Night, causing Rhysand to flinch. 

“Stop, she’s mirroring our magic!” You licked your bottom lip before a deep smirk etched into your face, the three males not releasing their fighting stance. A matching expression painted Rhysand, his violet eyes reflecting sharply. “Rhys! Don’t go into her hea-” Azriel’s warning wasn’t fast enough, Rhysand sank to the ground with a thud, his hands gripping his head with white knuckle force as he screamed out in pain he hadn’t felt in decades, not since his shields had been reinforced beyond breaking. You stood, head tilted, unblinking and beaming at the sight, one fist in a ball. Cassian dropped to his brother’s side, trying to think of any possible way to relieve even an ounce of Rhysand’s pain. 

“Stop!” Cassian shouted, feeling a whole new level of useless, Azriels eyes unable to pull away from yours. Rhysand forced his eyes open, the violet glinting before dimming ever so slightly. You released the hold instantly at the sight. Plum flushed across Rhysand's face as Cassian helped him to stand again on trembling legs, oxygen flooding his starved muscles. 

“Should have listened to the Shadowsinger” you mused. 

“Who sent you?” Azriel tried again, your eyes fixating on Rhysand.

“No one sent me, I'm just passing through” You brushed the dirt from your tumble with the High Lord's son from your sleeves, the mark of the arrow healing to a scar. 

“Wh-at do y-ou want?” Rhysand rasped out, Azriel's shadows slowly slipping towards you, darting back to their master with a simple glance from you. 

“I just want to continue on my travels” You looked between the three, sinister smiles now long gone, your truer gentle demeanour taking shape, your shoulders relaxing. 

“Where are you from?”

“Look, I'm not on trial here, I'm just passing through-”

“-My Court”

“-Your Father's Court” You tease, a glint crossing Rhysand's eyes, he pulled from Cassian's grip, striding closer to you. 

“Rhys-” Rhysand only lifted a hand to silence his two brothers' caution. 

“Remarkable” he did a small circle of you, your hands now relaxed at your side, ready to flex if necessary.  

“And so what? Are we to really believe you have no goal on this side of the Night Court?” Rhysand continued.

“I'm just trying to see the world” 

“Remarkable” within arms reach of one another the both of you stilled your movements. 

“What Court are you from?” Azriel met Rhysand's side, your examining of one another breaking. Cassian remained further back, waiting and watching, the strong sense something had been borrowed from him still sticking to his skin. 

“I'm not from a Court per say, I am tied to no land, no home” the two brothers share a brief glance before returning back to Cassian to form a huddle. You didn’t feel it necessary to go into your heritage, The Middle frightened most into another attempt on your life at the mention of it. 

“We should just direct her back”

“As if she'd go Cassian”

“How'd she even get this deep in the Court?” Azriels shadows felt heavy with the lack of information they had on you.

“We’ll figure out that later, she's too close to…you know where to allow her to keep going onwards” The three whispered to one another as you rocked back and forth on your feet, hands finding their home on your hips.

“If the ‘you know where’ is Velaris-” the three males face shot towards your almost bored tone “-I have no interest in exposing your little city, like I said, I'm just trying to see the world” That was all you remembered. Shadows swarmed you with such precision in overwhelming volume it caught you entirely off guard. Their control swaddled you with some air of comfort before pulling you through the space they occupied, Rhysand's tendrils curling around your mind compelling you to sleep, unable to fend off the power of the three combined without formal training. 

–

“What are we going to do with her?” 

“I’m not sure Cassian but she knew about Velaris somehow and we need to find out” Rhysand whispered his reply while looking at your body flop down in the chair they had strapped you to. 

“She said another High Lord son to you Rhys and she was shapeshifting, what if she’s from Spring?” Cassian circled you, matching Rhysand’s pacing, Azriel watching pensively from his comfortable shadowy corner. 

“It's hard to know what she meant. I’ve never heard of someone with her abilities”

“Do we tell your father?” Azriel replied, slipping from his corner to join his friends standing in front of you. You groaned slightly as a shadow traced around your ankle. You rolled your chin along your collarbone, managing the strength to force your head into equilibrium once again, eyes still weighing heavy.

“We don’t tell him unless necessary, he’ll destroy her for this ability” Rhysand squatted down to reach your eye level, a hand landing on knee, rocking it gently to bring you around. The sudden loud banging of doors above the basement had Rhysand standing again.

“I think he knows” Cassian looked to his brothers. Sure enough the High Lord of Night had felt the energy shift even when you were kept deep within the bowels of the House of Wind. The door banged off the hinges as pure power stormed into the small chamber in the shape of his father, Cassian and Azriel standing to attention. 

“Who is that?” he bit, no reply from the males as he stalked closer to you. 

“Who brought her here?” he barked, Rhysand moving to lift his hand only to have Azriel get there first, forever defending his brother. 

“You bring a stranger to my city? I’ll deal with you later” Members of his own inner circle arrived on the scene. 

“Wha-t is happen-ing?” You whined out, eyes adjusting to the light as they widened to the audience in front of you. 

“How did you know where to find it?” Rhysand’s father’s tone dripped with cold as you looked towards Rhysand, a somewhat sympathetic look gracing his face. 

“I’m just passing through” You practically yawned out, hands working their way out of their bounds from behind the chair out of view of your spectators. 

“Well, I’m not sure how much you’ve seen, only that it’s all too much” He leaned inwards as he spoke mere inches from you. Your foot slid along the floor to touch against his foot, his head looking down at the action. He grasped your throat then, forcing a similar pressure Cassian had applied. 

“You-You just took something from me” The slithering feeling of your tendrils dancing around the High Lord’s head had him dropping the force he held on you. 

“You gave it” The thud of your bounds hitting the floor was all you needed, balling your hands together behind you and pushing deep within the High Lord’s head.

“Watch her hands!” Cassian shouted, the room's guests all overwhelming you, Rhysand fighting through your shields once again to send you to sleep as you kept a grip on his father's mind preventing him from misting you. 

-

The next time you woke up you cried out into the dark room. Through blurry eyes you found one of your hands nearly completely crushed, with both of them pinned down flat on a table in front of you with metal bindings, unable to flex. You roared out until your skin tinged blue in mourning.

“Ple-please don-t struggle” The almost quivering voice had you lifting your head towards the darkness. Azriel stepped out into the strip of light the rising sun had provided, his face marred with its own punishing wounds. He had tried to stop the cruelty shown to him from being projected at you. You attempted to move your hands once again, the metal seemingly tightening around you more, causing your lungs to rattle air out in pure pain. Azriel rushed closer to you, dropping to your level as you gritted your teeth, vibrating against the restraints that bound you to the chair. 

“They tighten when you move, the High Lord-he did that, I-I tried to stop him” he managed, your glare heating him, his shadows beginning to swirl around you, their cooling nature giving the smallest drop of relief. One graced past his ear before he nodded, it then flying to the base of your wrist where the knot of locks lay, beginning to attempt to free you.

“We’re gonna try to get you out, tell them you overwhelmed my powers, I’ll deal with whatever that brings” The shadows span frantically, the subtle sound of the lock clicking meeting your ringing ears. You hauled your hands back to your lap, face contorting in anguish. Azriel retrieved a wrap from within his jacket, spinning it like a web around your brittle bones, your eyes tracing over the deep fissures that decorated his own hands before beginning to work on the bindings at your back. You stood as they hit the ground, Azriel hesitating slightly to rest a hand on you to steady your step. 

“Please tell me you’re okay?” He looked down at your marred hands, unable to keep the curiosity to himself. 

"My-my hands" the voice that left you didn't belong to any part of yourself you had met before, your destroyed digits cracking through your heart. Azriel took no further hesitation in holding you into him, no longer caring if you took every cell of power from him, only wanting to provide you some shelter from a similar fate he had faced

“Az, I think I agree we gotta get her ou- oh” Rhysand stood in the doorway, violet eyes illuminating the room, almost pulling you into them. 

“We tried to-to stop him” he repeated Azriel’s earlier plea, your eyes looking back to your withering digits. 

“Cassian, the one you tried to coldcock earlier, will meet us with a healer” Azriel spoke softly again, Rhysand moving towards you.

“Just stay out of my head” Rhysand offered with a smile, trying to take the edge of the air out of the room. He nodded to Azriel who left the room to alert the Night Court that you had escaped. Rhysand wrapped an arm around your waist, your brain screaming at you to not trust him, your heart deciding it was worth it. 

—-------------------

1700

You looked down at the long table in the long-forgotten room deep within the House of Wind, your fingers traced over the deep holes in the table, their slightly crooked nature catching in the divots. The War had ended and soon this table would be used to begin to forge a new path to peace. After the three had freed you, you met them at different intervals over the years, Rhysand requesting your help at various stages, saving them on a few occasions in the trenches of the War that ripped through Prythian. 

“Oh, I was coming in here to get rid of that table” Azriel said from behind you, a smile growing across your face as you turned to him. 

“I think we should keep it, let it remind them what they did to me before they saw use in me” Azriel nodded, the war ageing him to almost unrecognisable from the twenty-something-year-old who had helped shoot you down in the woods. 

“Poetic my love” Rhysand called out from the doorway, equally aged by the horrors of war, he planted a kiss on your cheek, Azriel averting his eyes at the action, ignoring whatever twinged through him. You weren’t sure when Rhysand had gone from your enemy to your ally to your partner. Somewhere between him providing you with a place to plant roots in the depths of the Night Court hidden from his father and you saving him from being blown to bits in the ditches of war maybe. 

“We should move this table upstairs with the other things going to Hewn City” Azriel suggested, wishing to take his mind off the both of you, Cassian entering the room with his usual ease. The three gathered around the gigantic table, attempting to lift it. 

“YN, help Azriel with his end” you nodded to Rhysand’s instruction, Azriel fighting the urge to glare at him.

“YNN, please be careful of your hands” 

“I will Az” You smiled softly at him, Rhysand pursing his lips briefly at the action.

“Do you mind Cass?” He shrugged his shoulders, offering his hand for you to hold briefly before removing your hand to flex it, the bones creaking in the action as your strength felt as though it doubled. You caught hold of the corner adjacent to your partner, your new strength aiding the three.

“Does it hurt mirroring?” “Sometimes it hurts my brain-” you laughed to Azriel next to you“-it really is a matter of tactics, the last fae I touch and choose to mirror pushes out the last power I mirror away from me” he nodded in understanding before Rhysand and he winnowed together with you, Cassian and the table. 

The landing came with a hard thud, the gigantic ancient table weighed down with centuries of cruelty. You groaned as you released your corner, hands contorting in a spasm. Azriel released his section, almost instantly meeting your side.

"YNN, come on let's get a soak made up" "She's okay Az, it happens to her all the time, she has to get used to working through it alone if she is to return to the battlefield alongside us" Rhysand reprimanded the Spymaster for his close proximity to you, his own arm wrapping around your waist in an almost possessive nature. Azriel's eyes searched yours as you held the weaker hand in the other, the spasm unending, releasing another painful breath from your mouth.

"Start tomorrow" Azriel bit, looping his arm through your elbow, taking you from the High Lord's grasp to seek out Madja.

"I'll go Az, you take the table" Rhysand slipped his arm back to your waist, half pulling you back into him, the pain taking your attention away from the tension-filled air.

—-------------------

1800

“It's our home my love, surprise!” Rhysand pulled his hands from covering your eyes, they lit up instantly at the sight of The Town House. You turned to hug him so tightly he thought his ribs may crack. 

“I can’t believe you” you laughed hysterically before practically skipping up the driveway. Roots you never thought would grow from your heart that was born to see the world sprouted through Velaris. 

"I've never had a home like this Rhys" A small flow of salty water threatened the rims of your eyes before they fell parallel to your smile.

“I love you YN” the roots sank deeper with the words.

—-------------------

1850 

“YN? I thought you and Rhys had plans tonight?” Azriel asked from the entryway to the Town House, you sat alone at the dining table, candles sinking to the end of their wick.

“Oh Hi Az, eh yeah, he got- he got called away” Your soft voice was tinged with tears that threatened to fall, the plate of untouched food adjacent to you now stone cold. You stood, taking the plates into the kitchen, scraping them off before sinking them into bubbly water. 

“Oh, sorry to hear that” you just hummed in agreement to him as you polished the plates.

“The House looks great,” he offered quietly.

“Thank you for noticing” You saw a tear fall from your cheek into the suds, you lifted the ornate plate from the water, something seizing in your hand as you did, the plate falling to shatter into a thousand pieces as your hand cramped.

“Fuck!” You shouted, kneeling directly down into the shards, gripping your contorting hand with the other, the tears now freely flowing.

“YNN! Hey hey it's okay!” He met your side, his hands tracing over yours gently. You looked up to meet his eyes as they attempted to coax you through your unsteady breaths. His thumbs traced circles around your palms, massaging the seizure until it gave in. Azriel pulled you back to your feet, ceramics crunching underfoot as he brought you into the living room.

-

“You did not” The laugh left you loudly at one of Azriel’s happier stories from his time at Windhaven involving pulling Rhysands trousers down in front of the whole camp. The two of you sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, curled up in the warmth of the Town House. 

“True story, Gods, we got up to some trouble” he smiled down at his lap and then beamed to you.

“You must have your own stories YNN?” “Not really” You shrugged.

“C’mon now, you travelled a lot before we met you, no great stories?” “None that I can share in the company of gentleman” His foot slipped to tap against you playfully before bending back up to his chest beneath his blanket. 

“Rhy’s thinks I talk too much about that time” You shrug.

“I want to hear every story, at least twice-” You rolled your eyes at his genuine smile "-Do you miss travelling? Flexing that wonderful power of yours?” “I think, I think I was looking for something back then, I thought I found it” You looked at hands as they flattened out as straight as they could.

"What you found was trouble" Azriel grinned and you nodded in agreement.

"Do you enjoy mirroring?" His head tilted, his greatest interest was your greatest asset.

“It can be difficult now, I think I returned too quickly to it after...what happened but Rhys needed me in the war and...I'd break myself for him"

"You already have YNN, you owe him nothing, we owe you everything, if a return to exploring the world is what you want you should have it" He watched you inspect your hands as he had for centuries since his own battle wounds.

"I just want to be happy Az" A single tear fell from your cheek to meet one of your scars, the fissure in your skin like roots in a tree.

"I want you to be happy YNN-" You looked to his sincerity, it enveloped you in kindness "-and if that means never mirroring again, then so be it" "Mirroring Rhys sometimes is the only way I feel close to him” You admitted, curling your fingers back, a full fist still not easily achieved by the hand that was totally crushed.

“It gets easier-” he gestured to your wicked scars “-dealing with the cruelty of others but... No one YNN, and I truly mean no one, should get to treat you with anything other than love” You just nodded softly in reply, the sound of a click of a lock sending your head in the direction of the doorway.

“Rhys!” You leapt from the couch, sweeping away any trace of tears, Azriel hating how easily you compartmentalized it all away in front of Rhysand. You ran into the arms of your partner, a battle hero's welcome as he seemingly brushed you off like a little kid.

“I’m going straight to b- Az? What are you doing here?” “Just keeping YNN company, I’ll see you both tomorrow” He didn’t allow for further questioning, dissolving into shadows. You fixated your stare on the space, Rhysand brushing past you and straight up the stairs. Alone in the living room that you had painstakingly decorated for the two of you. You looked around, a small shadow you created leaking from a fist you managed to ball together before you outed the light. 

—---------------------

1900

“YN could use her abilities” “YN deserves rest Rhy’s, she is eager to travel to the continent” “I won’t risk her abilities Az-” Azriel’s head tilted slightly to the misspoken word “-Her, I won't risk her” 

“But you’ll risk her to expand your border?” Cassian spoke with his own concern similar to Azriels. Rhysand rolled his shoulders, brushing off the question before standing from his chair.

“Needs must”

“She's not your weapon!”

“But she is my partner!” Azriel sat further back in his chair in shock, Rhysand hadn’t spoken with such sharpness since he tried to convince Azriel to allow his father to handle your future centuries ago, his darkest secret. 

“Enough” Rhysand walked to look out the window down to you in the courtyard of the House of Wind, happily stretching in the sun. 

“Are you going to go out to her? She doesn't know you've returned from your trip yet, she misses you” “No, I have more important things to attend to right now, she’ll wait for me” He dismissed himself from his own meeting, flashing out of the room.

“Green is not your colour Az '' Cassian laughed from the table as Azriel found himself watching you from the window, sinking into shadow to join your side in the sun.

—----------------------

2158

“Rhys! Take me with you, please!” “No YN. Enough!” He pulled the tie around his neck until the knot sealed delicately. His eyes met yours in the mirror as you sat on the bed behind him. 

“I-I never get to be around you much anymore” You admitted, your head dipping as Rhysand turned to face you. 

“YN, this will be a boring political ball that Hybern’s emissary is hosting, you’re not missing anything” “I’m missing you” You looked up, the glint in his violet eyes you saw so many years ago had not been seen since. His hand traced along your cheek with such tenderness you hadn’t felt from him in so long.

"You'll wait for me" The words hung between you as he kissed the top of your head and walked out the door without looking back. 

—-----------------------------------

2201

“Wait YN! Hear me out!”

“NO!” you span on your heels, allowing Rhysand to bounce back from you before pushing him away further into the chest.

“YN, I don’t want to hurt you but-” “But! Exactly! You are! Fifty fucking years I waited for you! And what's the first thing you say to me?! She’s my mate! And now you’re going to go and get her and bring her here! To our home!” Rage-hot tears flooded your face, every nerve standing on edge at the feeling of this cosmic betrayal. 

“What do you want from me YN, I just-I just love Feyre!” Rhysand caught your wrists as you went to hit him further, equal despair painting his face. You felt yourself tense in his grip, a very old injury still reminding you of how you got here.

“YOU USED TO LOVE ME!” the roar left you in a blind fury, never had you raised your voice at Rhysand but never had he betrayed you so deeply.

“I can’t make this better! I want to but I can’t, please” he found himself crying now too. You stopped pulling against his hold, two sets of wild eyes landing on one another for what felt like the first time in a long time. 

“You don’t love me, Rhysand. You tolerate me, tolerate me for everything you used to love me for” A fresh set of words like knives fell through the space between you.

“YN-” “-Tell me now, tell me If it's all in my head. Even on my worst day, did I deserve this, All the hell you gave me? Because I loved you, I swear I loved you until my dying day and all you do is TOLERATE ME! TELL ME OTHERWISE!” Once the last voice crack had Rhysand averting his gaze from you as you shook your head, slipping your wrists from him. 

“I can’t tell you that” you backed away from him and the words you always knew but never thought you’d hear.

“I really hope she’s everything you need her to be” The words broke him further through your rattled voice, rage turning to mind-numbing sadness you hadn’t felt since hearing of his capture. You took steps back from him in the foyer of the Town House, seemingly unable to lift his heavy limbs from the marble.

Your feet nearly separated the cobblestone road as you trudged along, passing fae trying not to gawk at their almost High Lady. You stopped once your toes touched the wall protecting the city from the Sidra. 

“YN?” Azriel called out from the end of the bridge as he crossed, quickening his pace to you with your lack of reply. 

“Hey hey what’s going on, more plate smashing?” You huffed slightly into his chest through your tears at the absurdity of the memory. 

“I’m leaving Az” you muffled through the soft fabric, his tough hands finding your arms to push you back from him, deeply inspecting your opal eyes, hands still heating your sides. 

“Leaving? But-but we only just got Rhys back-” Your head dropped to his feet instantly, pushing the rising vomit in your throat away.

“YNN, please tell me, just tell me how I can fix it?” 

“Bring me back in time and leave me to keep flying away” You stepped fully from his grip, his shadows swirling around you, now mingling with the ones you created. You took the deepest breath, pushing a smile through your muscles, tears outlining them. 

“Bye Az”

“YNN, please where are you going?” He pleaded, your arms slipping from his grip,

"Anywhere I want to, just not home" You dissolved into shadow, leaving the Illyrian with his wings dipping to the floor.

--------------------------------

Okeee friends what do we think?

P.S Did you catch that only Az calls reader YNN? hehe. Also, I have part two written and she's based on Who's Afraid of Little Old Me and My Tears Richochet so if you think that's something you'd enjoy please let me know hehe

[lowkeyrobin]

JAMES HOOK ; perfect revenge

summary ; after also turning into a weird flamingo hybrid with uliana, hook tries to conjure up a plan for revenge for you. and ulianna

warnings ; language, bullying

disclaimers ; reader is a siren (on land)

requested by ; @stargener

word count ; 902

masterlist

Uliana cackles, using her tentacle to hand you two flamingo feathers.

"That's too many!" Bridget exclaims

Uliana glares at her. "Does it look like I care?"

You swallow your feathers, giggling back at your friends.

"You're just jealous," She rolls her eyes, following your actions. "Of my beauty."

"You'll regret that," Bridget mumbles.

You and Uliana giggle and cackle, you leaning over her shoulder to look in her portable mirror. You smile, tilting your head as you watch your hair glow a bright pink.

Uliana jumps back, coughing up feathers with a worried, scared look. Her hair also glows pink, the color spreading from the fringe to the occipital rather quickly as she frightfully looks around, seeing all eyes were on her and you.

"You look a little.. pink" Hook giggles.

You begin to do the same, looking back at Hook, unable to call for him as you hack up feather upon feather. You fall to your knees, watching feathers magically grow from your skin, a thick coat of them burying into your flesh.

"Someone should help them!"

Your shaky hands are held in front of your face, you watch as your fingers grow into claws. Hook's expression clearly falters, seeing you watch yourself turn into some hybrid monster.

The laughter fills your ears, the smiles and giggles the only thing your brain would process. They stare at you as you sit hopelessly, watching yourself fall to the magical trickery. You'd never felt more weak. As your reputation quickly drips down the drain, you think of how you wouldn't be feared any longer, how you'd end up becoming a victim to your own creation.

"Yeah, someone should help them" Hades mutters, Maleficent smacking him.

Harry looks between the couple and then at you two, watching Morgie try and help Ulianna up from the ground. He's quickly smacked back, landing on his ass as Uliana rises, showcasing her new face job. Her face represented one of a flamingo, beak and all.

Her screams are turned into bird honks as she quickly chases after Bridget and Ella. She chases them away toward a side yard, the AK's following quickly. Hades and Maleficent shrug, following the crowd. Morgie does the same, breaking into a sprint after watching Red and Chloe chase after Uliana.

Hook rushes to you, paralyzed in fear and embarrassment on the concrete. His hands float over your shoulders, not exactly wanting to touch you.

"Go get them" You snarl, wanting your boyfriend to leave you be.

He quickly nods, rushing after his friends, his heeled boots clicking on the pavement.

Your limbs were coated in feathers, your hands now claws, your hair bright pink. With wide eyes, you stumble over to the fountain in the courtyard, hoping and wishing the magical water would rid you of your now hideous appearance.

Water was your home, maybe even just sitting in it would make you feel slightly okay.

You place your feet in the fountain, drenching your boots. You sit down criss-cross, running your head beneath the running water, a shiver running down your spine as the cold liquid hits your feathered skin.

You feel the feathers fall from your limbs, your skin revealed once again, leaving large dark marks on your skin, like strawberry skin but ten times worse. Your claws shrink back down to your normal hands, your hair's new pink glow fading as it rinses away from your scalp.

"Y/n?" James speaks from behind you, having rushed to your aid after Ulianna fell into the magic spring water pool not far away. "Are you alright, darling?"

"No," you quickly answer, eyebrows furrowed out of your internal anger.

He slowly approaches, trying to bring you away from the fountain, to dry you off at least. "My love-"

"Shut up."

You lounge in your dorm with James, trying to push your head anywhere that wasn't back earlier in the day. Your head rests on your pillow as you stare at the ceiling, allowing you to count the stars in the night sky through the skylight above your bed.

You wanted to get back at Bridget, but didn't know how.

She subjected you to humiliation, to embarrassment. She wasn't anything, she had to bribe people with food to be her friend. She was a pathetic excuse of life and a waste of space. She'd grow to be nothing-

"I have an idea," James speaks, turning back to look at you on your bed, having been looking out the window.

You turn your head to look at him. "What?"

He slyly smiles, a mischievous look in his eye. "We embarrass her at Castlecoming. She wouldn't miss it for the life of her, we make her fall to the floor, ugly as an ogre."

You blink. "You sound like you're talking about me," you mumble, rolling your eyes as you turn on the bed, your back facing him.

He sighs, pulling you up from the bed. You stand on your feet, your pajamas resting upon your frame as he laces his hand into yours, his hook carefully resting over your shoulder.

"We'll get her back, my lovely siren royalty." He smiles, his eyes gazing upon your lips before looking back at you in the eye. To say he was in love was an understatement. "You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

You lightly smile, glancing down before looking back up at him. "Yeah"

"Good"

[ellsbclls]

⟢ ◞ blackberries; e. williams

desc. a small part of a larger fruit anthology — ellie has never had blackberries before, and you get to introduce them to her. rated pg-13

an. short and fluffy and fun! i've been sitting and fermenting on this for a year now and i felt like it deserved to see the sun. also i love unpacking ellie's trauma box by box. enjoy!

by the time your shift ends, daylight has already beat you home.

there was a time where this land was nothing but that — land. a dimple on the jagged smirk of the mountainside. your sights were set on somewhere north — sun bound and damp with the promise of not an unforgiving winter, but here is where came to you first — the promise of a nap and a fireside meal after miles and days walked. here is where you could finally rest, you thought.  and then you spoke it into existence, and there the seed was planted, and began to shape root…

thick, wonky slabs of wood block the sun, one sliding off the other like a big oaky thumbprint, and the crows bark just above it all, sweeping one another into an endless circle. a tornado of black beaked trumpets ushering the morning light into your home.

you tug your boots off and shlep them to the other side of the room. that’s a mess for a much more capable version of you to deal with. you opt to let your muscles take over, work by memory and tend to the swell that blossoms beneath the ball of your ankle. years ago, on your first patrol, you rolled it while trying to outrun a swarm.

the jackson medic assured you, in his weathered, sandpaper drawl, that you should be grateful that you only came out with a twisted ankle. and you were — you ended up in the logs only two weeks past the incident — but the pain still persists in rolling phases. like today, when the air is honeyed with spring.

usually ellie takes great pleasure in greeting you at the door, ever punctual. it’s a welcome relief for the both of you at the end of the day — as much of a reason to make your way back home as it is for her to believe you will.

she’s the one who removes your boots, and does it just right, unlaces them and everything, leaving too much room for the fabric to even near your phantom injury. treats you like a princess from the moment you step foot into your home, like your return is the answer to the murky planes of her forethought. with her knees planted into the runner and your socked foot cradled to the cotton bound splice of her chest. she kisses you, where the sun never dares to roam, where she can without being accused of tenderheartedness. her palms run up the hill of your calf — to clear room if not blueprint the trail of her lips as they flag out your dimpled knee. “there, all better,” she decides, and forbids you from walking unless it’s crutched by the support of her arm.

today, however, seemed to be an exception.

that's when you decide to find her, and dread doesn’t prickle within you as much as concern. you’ve done nothing wrong, and you’ve allowed yourself enough time to realize such, and yet the world still runs with veins of uncertainty. finding her right where you left her would never be a guarantee, but a  privilege.

“ellie?” prodding, you lurk through your halls, tracing the map of the walls with your middle finger. “i have a surprise for you.”

once you pass your bedroom, you think you finally find her. you crawl into the bed and mistake a massive heap of blankets for ellie, kissing and nosing at the cotton until you realize that it’s unresponsive. so you continue your journey, ego bruised.

two rooms and many corners later —

you’re greeted to her silhouette, back to the kitchen, framed by the seam of the sunroom and its sharply lit doorway. to disrupt her feels depraved. you rarely get to see her so at peace, with her hand watercolored and calloused with the fruits of your latest harvest, her head stuffed into a thatch of goldenseal.

but you must, after countless seconds of self-arduous debate, it’s better to taste the death of such a peaceful moment than stand and ponder whether there’s enough room for you in it..

you tap on her shoulder and wait for her, knowing well enough that you must allow her just enough time for her body to sink back into the comfort of her skin before you can touch her further.

it serves just as much of a reminder as it does a testament — to time, to growth, to evolution — it lies just beneath your hairline and blends into the curly horizon of it, and no further does it travel nor does it fade.

“thyme’s not coming in.”

“is that so?” you push loose strands of hair behind her ear, a nervous tic you’ve transplanted onto her.

“i think it’s being stubborn…”

“you don’t say. ”  you brows twitch upward. 

“Hey! don’t tease,” she finally turns to face you and her eyes are wet with mischief. deft fingers circle and roll at your wrists, mulling at the bone of your wrist like a joystick. “you’re the one out of a good ol’ fashion steak.”

“do you even know how to cook it?”

silence. 

“well how hard can it be?”

she can tell you’re impressed, what with your expectant stare, somewhat mirroring her own silly one. “i really thought it would work.”

It being some intricate propagation method, found dog eared in the tomb of a vintage almanac. dated from a time far from now, far from disease and blood and mycellium. at least of this caliber.

“you’ve never liked cooking beef, anyway. you keep giving them names.” she offers a pitiful smile, you can feel it slow against your skin as she hugs her arms around it. Her body crooked and tired against yours. earnestly, you answer the question she never wants to ask.

“it will.”

She barely moves from your neck when she hums. “you think so?”

and assurednly, you promise, “i do.” as you shuffle away, you say. “don’t worry about the thyme. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

— ⟡ —

“what are they?” ellie’s brows pinch. her head tilts like a small bird.

“blackberries.” 

they settle in dark bunches and peek between your fingers. If you focus just enough, you can see them glow, catching on the light that creases between your eyes —amazement, sparkling like little beads of snow.

you smile, meek and cautious. something kindred, begins to siege — it dimples at the corners and folds beneath the crush of your lashes until there’s no space left that hasn’t been swallowed by sheer joy.

she had never seen them; well, not in person, at least. tiny midnight bulbs, clustered together and staining the skin of their burlap sack. her knuckles brush against their pinprick stubble and fly back, a scorched touch.

you had to parse some out to jesse as well when you found them — a finders fee of sorts, though you gloss over the fact that the only discovery he had made on your patrol was your newfound surplus of fruit, bulging from the corner of your pack. fuck jesse.

maybe this is what joel meant.

how, before his passing, and even after she shunned him from her life altogether, he still saw her — bright, almost scarily so, as the day he met her. how she wasn’t meant for this world, that she stood for everything it lacked, and no matter how many times they tried to take it away from her, there was a spark of fire still roaring behind her eyes. a lovely yearning, a wonderful ache that flourished and swelled like a smile on the face of oblivion.

there were days where she wore it well, dancing in the kitchen, tending the garden, her sighs hugging sound her shoulder like a hug of relief. but other days were not as kind. sometimes the memories sit inside of her. take root and fester beneath the dirt of her father’s almost grave, refusing to grow. to leave him behind in the shallow earth is one way to go, and so she clings to him, buries him deep in her mind and hopes for another.

but then you’re there. despite her life and how hard it bends to the company of everyone she’s known, you’re there. in spite of it. and with the smallest sign of tenderness, a simple gesture, helped a dull bud blossom.

“wait! wait!” you pull the container close to your chest, throw your hand over it limply like you have a wounded wrist.  just beneath the sparkle of your gaze lies a shyness, peeking out from behind your tongue like a child curled around their mother’s leg. you stretch your free hand out, fill the ample space between you. “wait.”

a pause settles in between, and once you gain her attention, you continue. “i thought, maybe — well, of course we would eat the berries.” ellie visibly deflates, releasing a sigh of relief. “but i've heard …well, i’ve read that if you mull the berries, you could make paint! and… your drawings.”

“my? —” ellie is baffled. for years the two of you weaned off poultry and potatoes, in every form, every flavor, and yet you stumble upon the rarest of finds, a bramble of sweet summer fruit, untended yet ripe for the picking, and see only her. it makes her wonder… “fuck, my… you don’t-”

you cut her off before she can backpedal, convince herself more than you that she's never deserving of such nice things. little luxuries, like food and dye. 

“i quite like your drawings. they just need a bit of…” you pop half of the berry between your teeth. a tartness traces the sides of your mouth, coaxing a smile from you that’s every bit as bright as it is warm, and then the sugar follows, jaw soothed and kissed with the sultry tongue of summer. 

and then you offer her the other half. a promise between the pads of your fingers. “substance?”

“We’ll always come across more of these.”  she concedes, cranes her neck, fully contented with her resigned half truth. You probably wouldn't, not in this lifetime, within the perimeter of jackson. and she would wallow about it for sure.

you pull the fruit away before she can bite into it. “even if we don’t. make something special for me.”

[jfs-worldbuilding-and-art]

sGorf!

sGorf are flightless azhdarchid pterosaurs native to the third ring(?) of aerrhea.

They have long lost their flight in favor of incredible jumps! They can hop as far away as 10 meters(or more) depending on the species. They achieve such incredible feats using both hind and forelimbs when jumping as shown in the top corner, their arms, with huge triceps working much like the legs of frogs. Their stupidly long feet and hands help them in both the jumping and the landing, acting as a spring, storing energy to be released in the next jump. However these big hands and feet make their walk awkward and silly.

They fill a wide variety of niches, mostly small insectivores and hunters of small tetrapods, frugivores and some even "try their beak" at folivory. All of this though, is made without masticating. They simply swallow most of their food whole, though sometimes they chop it using their sharp beaks.

Their name is literally frog but reverse, even the plural add the 'S' in the start of the word instead of the end. In the same game of words the name of the order is *Aruna*.

[pompadorbz]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[inubaki]

Collar (Prideful Au)

Adam felt undeniably diminutive, a mere wisp of his former self. He was far smaller than he had ever been in his Edenic days and, naturally, infinitesimally tiny compared to his celestial form. He barely grazed the shoulder of his angelic self—how utterly disheartening! His new form seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. Although he was uncertain of the full extent of his new body's powers, his present concern was more with its appearance.

His face was heart-shaped, softly feminine, with a nose that curved gracefully like a bird’s beak but lacked its sharpness. His lips were plump and tender, featuring a subtle, secretive dimple at one corner. His skin was the colour of delicate ash on fresh snow, milky-white and sprinkled with grey freckles that cascaded down his cheeks, neck, shoulders, and back. These freckles meandered down to the lush, pastel green and blue fluff that framed his thighs and extended to his dainty, delicate hooves. Though he lacked the long, arrow-like tail of Lucifer, his tail resembled a delicate spring of blue feathers, starting close to his backside and arching upward like a plume worthy of Hera.

His hips were rounded and plush, akin to the fanciful Barbies Adam had once seen the young Winners chatter about. His arms were slender and cushioned with tender flesh, his fingers long and delicate, tipped with the same blue and green hues as if bruised. His hair was a cascade of soft brown tufts, interspersed with genuine blue and green feathers that sprouted from the sides of his head, two of them curving like horns. Resting serenely between them was a sweet, sinuous snake, coiling gently and floating above his head like an ethereal halo.

Adam's cheeks were rounder than he had ever imagined, blushing with a faint pink tint. He winced, pinching his right cheek and hissing in surprise. It was far more sensitive than he remembered and disturbingly reminiscent of Lucifer! His wings were long and plush, cascading down his back and sweeping along the ground behind him. He inspected them with curiosity; they weren’t gold but a mesmerising gradient of green and blue, interwoven with hints of orange.

He wondered if he could lift them—and if they could lift him. With a determined squint and an arched back, he watched as his wings began to unfurl, nearly causing him to have a heart attack. They didn’t resemble typical wings but rather the majestic plumes of a peacock, stretching around him and fluttering softly. The eyes embedded in the feathers shimmered in gold, purple, and orange, framed by gentle greens and blues, echoing the feathers sprouting from his hair.

Adam's eyes widened in shock as he gazed at his reflection.

“What the fuck am I?” he exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief.

A soft gasp fluttered from behind him, drawing his attention. Adam turned slowly, his gaze squinting against the soft, shadowed light of the hotel room.

There, standing in the doorway, was Lucifer, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment. “You’re… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration.

Adam's heart sank.

Fuck!

He’s even shorter than fucking Lucifer?! The pint-sized King of Hell?! How did this fucking happen?!

———

The concept idea was what if Adam’s sinner punishment was to look like Lucifer.

The face of everything he thought as evil and through him excused his own horrid deeds. All that he took pride in and suffered through vanity is stripped away. Leaving a shorter, more ‘ delicate’, even feminine version of himself. He retains his wings but they barely hold the strength to lift himself. His halo becomes a snake, one he later names after constantly trying to chase off. (Though being separated, gives him migraines.). Adam keeps those hips though! Cause damn boy!

-this is mainly a repost of an older post from a older account of mine. This section is written by @rainforestakiie

@cakerybakery also took this concept and evolved it to something beyond all expectation! From the Dust Anew gives me life.

Hopefully, life would settle enough for me to make something good next time.

[nevadancitizen]

-> PROLOGUE: THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA

synopsis: you meet with a mysterious woman on an old californian dock.

word count: ~850

ships: Arthur Morgan/modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: inspired by @heart-of-gold-outlaw !! go read their modern reader fic i really like it. also we'll be getting into the actual time travel stuff after this teaser lololol :3

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

It’s a bracing, misty evening – supposed to be spring, but doesn’t feel like it. The waves are choppy and the gulls are huddled on the pylons with their beaks tucked under their wings, their feathers ruffling in the cold wind. 

Three hulking great ships, all freighters, are tied up on the beat-up dock. This isn’t one of those fashionable wharfs with dockworker unions or passenger liners – no pretty girls on their balconies, clinking champagne flutes to celebrate the start of the cruise. Just a couple of red-faced salts in pea jackets tramping by, trailing cigarette smoke, boots crunching on dried-up gull shit.

They spare you glances as they pass by, surely wondering what you were doing here in the early hours of the morning. Were you waiting for someone to get off work? Were you waiting for a drug deal? Or were you just admiring the way the waves spray water onto the dock?

(In reality, it was none of those. You’re waiting on something much worse.)

A woman, sleek and modern in style and rugged and worn in looks, approaches you. She has a quiet intensity about her — something about the way she squints against the ocean spray mixed with the permanent-looking scowl on her face. 

She tilts her head toward you, and you nod. You walk towards her and meet her halfway, leaning in close on her insistence. 

“You’re the one in need?” She asks softly. You just barely hear her over the waves crashing against the dock.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, just as soft. “It’s my sister’s daughter. My eleven-year-old niece. She’s… she’s in a really bad way.”

“What does she need?” The woman asks. 

“A pancreas,” you say. “She’s got acute recurrent pancreatitis. There aren’t a lot of affordable child-sized organs lying around. God knows I’ve turned not just California, but the entire Mojave upside-down trying to find one. I’ve called hospitals in Arizona, Nevada, even New Mexico. I – I’m not asking you to kill a child! I just… I need the money for the operation. It’ll put her on the waiting list, and… once we show the hospital we have the money, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Somehow.”

The woman narrows her eyes. “Why don’t you just take out a loan? Or take on debt?”

“I can’t,” you say. “None of us can. I foreclosed on my last house. My sister has thousands of dollars in credit card debt, counting all the interest. Please, just trust me when I say I need this money. I don’t think anyone has nearly half a million dollars in their junk drawer. If I did, why would I be here, asking you for it?”

The woman looks you over and tucks her jacket closer around her. The outline of a gun at her hip becomes glaringly obvious – she wants you to notice it.

“Ma’am, I’m begging you.” You clasp your hands together as tight as you can. “I come from a family of deadbeats and addicts. I was an addict myself, and I quit just to save money for her operation, but it’s just not enough. I need this money. I won’t misappropriate these funds – won’t use them to pay off other debts, won’t use them for drugs. Just… please, miss.”

The woman holds up her hand. “Stop groveling.”

What the fuck else am I supposed to do?! You shout in your head. I need money, and you’ve got the money! My niece is going to fucking die if I don’t get it!

Instead, you just nod politely and put your hands behind your back. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies. I’m sure you can understand my desperation.”

“Uh-huh,” the woman hums. “I can get you the money. Just give me your banking details and I can wire it to you.” 

You pull out a pre-prepared index card with your bank information written down. The woman checks that it has your full name, address, account number, and routing number before speaking again.

“Do you have life insurance?” She asks, as if offhandedly.

“Uh, yes?” You say, unsure. “It won’t come out to a lot, so I couldn’t have an “accident” at work. Maybe just under 200,000 dollars? Nowhere near enough to cover her operation.”

The woman hums and tucks the card into her pocket. “I’ll get you the money.”

“Thank you so, so much,” you say. “You have no idea what this means to me – no idea what you’ve done for me and my family.”

“I have some idea.” The woman’s hand lingers at her waist. It takes you a few seconds too long to notice that –

A loud sound. A raging pain. The bullet hit something vital, but doesn’t grant you the mercy of dying in that instant. 

You stagger back, holding yourself. “What…”

“You’re dumber than you look,” the woman says, her voice fading in and out. “I’m just helping your family.”

You inhale shakily and take a step back. There’s a sense of falling, and something cold surrounds you, but you can’t make out much of anything in this condition. 

The last thing you think before the black takes you? It’s May. Who the fuck gets shot in May?

[deepestnightcolor]

PLEASE MORE OF SAM FLUFF PLS PLS PLS

ᴀ/ɴ: Thou ask and thou shall receive!~ Thank you so much for your request, love!

I hope this is okay, I've become quite rusty when it comes to fluff. I hope you enjoy! Also, to everyone suffering of pollen allergies - much strength to you. Blondie is suffering with you.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1373 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, just fluff!

☾ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ☽

The warming rays of the spring's sun tickled your nose the moment you stepped out of your farm house. Spring was about halfway over, but still in its complete beauty.

You looked at your fields with a content look in your eyes. The seeds you had spread over the tilled ground had stretched out their green leaves, some of them would soon be ready to harvest, would need nothing more but a bit more of the tender sun and the water that was coating their complex beauty from the sprinkler already running this morning.

Butterflies were dancing through the air that was drenched in the sweet aroma of nature coming to life and blooming in its bright, cheerful colors, breezes of gentle wind wafting the scent towards you coaxing you to step forward.

A glance to your right made you see that your cows and chickens had found their ways outside by now, hungry mouths and beaks tugging at stems of grass that carried a lush green colour. The bursts of rain that had fallen on the Valley the last few days had done nature a favor, you thought, a smile on your lips.

You picked up the bucket you had brought outside with you, making your way over to their pasture.

"Good morning, ladies," you called out, chuckling as a chorus of moos greeting you in return. Betty and Moonalisa looked great today, and it filled you with a sense of pride to know it was your care that made the bond between you so strong. Scratching the cows' heads, you chatted quietly to them. Told them what had happened to you yesterday. You had seen Sam, you told them. He had taken you out on a date, and you still felt the giddiness of the last night rush through your veins.

Even as you were milking them you chattered about the blond, the twitch of spotted ears giving you the feeling of being listened to by your friends. When the bucket was full, you gave each cow a small treat as you thanked them, bringing the bucket to the shed to fill it in the machine that would make it become cheese in a matter of hours.

It didn't take long for you to enter the coop, greeting Julie and Lana with the same excitement you had done with the cows. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers, listening to the cluckering as the two hens picked at the ground. "You are very pretty today," you told them with a nod, "did you do something with your feathers?"

Cluckering sounds answering you made you chuckle.

Once you had allowed Sam to follow your morning routine because he had woken up as early as you had, and your boyfriend had watched you with an amused smirk on his face. When you had asked him why he looked at you like that, all he gave you was the shrug of his shoulders.

"It's cute how you treat your animals. Makes me appreciate you more, y'know? Shows you care."

He had kissed your head and crouched down to tell one of your hens that her eyes were gorgeous, and the other that she walked with great grace. The compliments seemed so genuine, so warm, they didn't leave you a choice but to kiss Sam right then and there, because you knew you could trust him. Even with silly little things like talking to your animals in front of him.

"I'll check on you again tonight!" You called towards them, your hands filled with the two large eggs you had found in the coop. After putting them in their respective machines, you decided to make your way to town. You had some ggeodes you wanted Clint to break open, and maybe you could visit Sam with a pizza for lunch.

However, the sound of someone sneezing made you raise your brow. That had been a loud sneeze.

You pushed your hands in the pockets of your overall, holding onto the fabric as you tilted your head. Waited. Maybe it was one of your animals? You had heard Moonalisa sneeze once, it had been louder than you would have ever guessed. Or you had just-

ACHOO.

Okay, you had definitely not imagined that, but it hadn't come from behind you, either. With your face still scrunched up in confusion, you walked towards town, perhaps you would find the sneezer there?

But you didn't even have to go so far, because looking to your right, you saw a mess of blond hair and a familiar blue jacket.

Your boyfriend stood hunched over in the field of lowers near the bus stop. A small bouquet was already in his right hand, the other traced through the tender sea of pedals and leaves. "S-"

ACHOO.

The sneeze shook the man's whole body, making him groan out loud. "Fuckin' allergies," his voice grumbled, but it sounded strained. Probably from all the sneezing he had been suffering through.

"I like you, you flowery pieces of death, why can't you fuckin' like me back?"

"Maybe they don't like you plucking them?" You joked, making the blond twirl around to look at you.

His eyes were teary and red, his nose was red, and he seemed defeated. However, a smile spread on his face just a few seconds later.

"Can't be it, they try to kill me even if I don't pluck them," he laughed, leaning down and picking up another flower, tenderly adding it to the bouquet. You watched him, biting down on your lower lip. "Just out of curiosity, why are you in a field of things that kick off your allergy?"

Sam gave you a sheepish grin, mouth open to answer your very valid question, though the sneeze that tore through him was faster. A groan left his mouth as he grimaced, rubbing his eyes and then his nose, only to realize what he had just done. The pollen on his hand led to another sneezing fit. You reached out your hand and slowly pulled him away from the flowers, pulling out some tissues to dab at his teary eyes carefully.

"Because of the tradition," he answered when his breathing seemingly had steadied. "Tradition? What tradition?"

Again, your boyfriend carried this sheepish look on his face.

"That when you wanna date someone, you give them a bouquet."

You looked up at him, your eyebrow lifting in a slight arch. "But...we are dating, aren't we? 3rd of winter. That's when we got together."

Sam nodded and gave you another grin, this time, it was almost shy.

"But I didn't give you a bouquet." It wasn't an explanation. It was a matter of fact, at least that's how it sounded when he said it.

You couldn't help yourself, you never really could around Sam. Around him, your reactions were real. Raw. You laughed and gripped his face carefully, kissing the swollen nose just as gently as you did it affectionately.

"But Pierre sells them, Sam! You didn't have to trigger such a big allergic reaction for me," you whispered, and now it was Sam that rose his brow.

"Those are ugly ass flowers in that bouquet," he began, puffing out his chest, "and who the hell knows how long our dude Pierre has kept those flowers in a random ass drawer, keeping them alive with whatever witchery he has up that ugly sweater sleeve? Nope, no chance, my babe only gets the best- ACHOO."

Sam let out another groan, slowly holding the flowers towards you. "But..I'd be thankful if you took them off my hands...you know. I think you look prettier with them than I ever could, anyway."

You cooed as you looked at your beaten by allergies boyfriend, taking the bouquet and kissing his lips gently. "Yes, Sam," you whispered against them after a moment.

Sam, distracted by the affection inflicted on his lips, looked at you in confusion. "Yes what?"

You grinned, intertwined your fingers. "Yes, I accept the bouquet. Can't let my boyfriend die and then not accept the bouquet now, can I?"

Your boyfriend, now back on track, smiled, pressing a large hand to his chest. "That would have been more cruel than the pollen in spring."

[sunflowersteves]

crazy || j.m.

chapter two of ain't no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || you get injured during a patrol and Joel is too occupied to assist your wound. what happens when someone else has to take over?

author's note || i hope you all enjoy chapter two! since the second to last episode, all i could think about was that smirk joel gave. oop. i promise next chapter will be fluffy. now that it's spring beak, i'm hoping to write much more for this series. can be read as a stand alone but follows a series! 5.8k!

warnings || jealousy, injury, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, murder, blood, possessiveness, brad has his own warning (ifkyk), unrealistic recovery time, delirium, joel is self deprecating and self sabotaging, arguments, SMUT, rough sex, fingering, praise kink, taunting, degradation, dom joel, joel is a little mean, but don't worry because soft joel makes an appearance, soft sex, creampie, [18+ only!!]

series masterlist || part one || masterlist

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying And I'm crazy for loving you

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the blade twisted into your gut, cutting your flesh and piercing your intestines. You could feel the pain. It was dull and throbbing as wet crimson seeped into your t-shirt. 

You heard a cried-out yell, and turning toward your side, you saw it. You saw the knife that was once in your stomach was now in your hand—lodged into your attacker’s skull. Your body had acted on instinct and perpetrated that familiar gut feeling of violence and revenge. 

You pause, just for a moment. You could feel the adrenaline kick into your system, and a numbing pain flushed out your senses. The blood felt warm and sticky—prompting the sleepiness to feel calming, and it urged you forward into its safe surroundings. 

But then you felt it. Panic. Panic rose in your neck as you looked around for someone. Your hand darted out to try and find them, but your mind was starting to become blank from the fuzzy warmth of pain. 

Joel.

You needed Joel.

But all you knew was that Joel wasn’t by your side. Joel wasn’t here. He wasn’t holding your hand. He wasn’t whispering into your ear about how everything was going to be okay. 

You didn’t know where he was. Then, you collapsed to the snowy ground, white dots fluttering around you. It was almost comforting the way the snow danced around you like soft wet pillows. You opened your mouth. You wanted to say something—you wanted Joel, but nothing could leave your lips.

It all happened too fast—too soon after just leaving the commune for a patrol. You and Joel had spotted someone walking too close to the river, but you and the rest of your party hadn’t seen the tracks behind you. You never noticed four men creeping their way to surround you. 

It almost felt astonishing, really. You, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and Brad were not new to the dangers of survival, especially you and Joel.

The two of you and Ellie have had your fair share of raiders and non-friendly people alike. You and Joel protected Ellie in every way possible, punching your way through cheekbones and splattering scarlet liquid. 

You and Joel weren’t new to picking out tracks and finding the smallest detail of other life. So how could you miss this?

“I’ve got you.”

Your brow crinkles. That doesn’t sound like Joel. You peek open one of your eyes to see a man—what was his name? Oh, yeah. Brad. 

You didn’t want Brad. You wanted Joel. You wanted the scruff of gray hair poking out loudly against the soft brunette ones. You wanted those honeyed brown eyes staring at you in concern and anguish. You wanted Joel to hold your hand as he gently took you into his arms and carried you all the way back. 

Finally, you speak. “Joel. N-Need Jo—”

“I know, but he’s not here.” He placed his hand on your abdomen and applied a great deal of pressure. Your breath hitches, but then your lips fall into a frown. 

“Joel isn’t here?” Tears start to water your lash line, but none of them fall. If you weren’t preoccupied with the open wound on your side, you would have noticed the twitch of a smirk on Brad’s lips. He was purposely attempting to make you feel alone like you've been abandoned by your partner. 

Your eyes start to sting, a fresh tear falling down the side of your face, right below your temple. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. You knew Joel would never ever abandon you, so why did Brad say that?

You could feel yourself become dizzy, and the white specs that fluttered around you started to become hazy. You opened your mouth, and your eyes felt so heavy. You could hear someone telling you to stay awake, and it didn’t feel like Brad this time. Maria? Tommy? 

You weren’t sure, but it was no use. You let the sweet lullaby of sleep take over you, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

You whispered Joel's name over and over. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tommy hadn’t seen Joel act like this in quite some time. Everyone saw their fair share of grumpy glares and pissed off, snarling Joel, but never this—not since the very beginning of the outbreak.

Joel had just been so irate. He was so entirely impassioned with rage—furious and calculating as his fist connected with the raider's face, over and over. But there was something else, too. Fear and hurt swirled and ignited between his brown eyes at the sight of the blood that seeped into your clothing. 

He watched it all happen. He watched the knife lodge into your stomach. He saw your blood that almost became fluorescent in the white snow. He felt his chest seize as his eyes followed your fist that was puncturing the knife into the raider’s skull. 

He saw the way Brad flew to your side, the way that he yelled at you to stay awake. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, and desperation rose in his throat. He tried calling out your name, but he couldn’t get to you.

One of the raiders wrapped his arm around his neck and choked him—no doubt the raider using Joel’s vulnerability of pure agony to his advantage. 

He couldn’t get to you.

He repeated it over and over in his head. He grabbed the raider’s arm and used the weight of his body to fling the guy forward. Joel didn’t waste a single second. He grasped the gun that was flung out of his hands earlier to the raider’s face. 

The clock was ticking. He couldn’t get to you.

“Wait, wait, wait, I can help—”

Joel pulled the trigger, releasing the bullet and popping loudly against the barrel—shoving the nine millimeters of metal into the man’s head. He fell limp to the ground, and the hands that were clenching around Joel’s forearms slowly dropped. 

He looked over in an instant to see that Tommy had knocked out the last of the men that had surrounded all of you. His head snapped back over to you, feet crunching against the snow with each step. 

You weren’t moving—not even your eyes were fluttering—and Joel felt the whole world swallowing him whole. His heart thumped loudly against his chest as his knees hit the ground, no doubt bruising them in the process. 

Brad was on the other side of you, applying pressure to the wound still. “About time, old man.”

Joel ignored him—honestly, he was not even sure he really registered his presence at all. All Joel could do was hold your face, not caring about any of the blood that smeared onto your cheek. “Baby?”

His eyes skated across your face to see a sign—a twitch of your brow, a pull at your lips, anything. He could see the tears that started to gloss over his vision. “Sunshine, please.” 

He paused, desperately searching. “Please.” 

Tommy says Joel’s name softly as if he were going to snap at any moment. He flinched a little when Joel moved. The dark depths of memories from before rushed through his brain. His mind almost became blank—so did Joel’s. Was this going to be the same?

Maria was the one that snapped them out of it, holding her broken wrist to her chest. “We need to leave. We have to get her to the clinic.”

Joel's arm loops itself under your neck, and Tommy pulls your legs up to make it easier to lift you. He scoops you up into his arms, pressing a watery kiss to your forehead. He needed to get you home, and he needed to do it now. 

You murmur just barely under your breath and so quietly that he almost misses it. He wasn’t quite sure if you were even conscious. 

“Joel.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wondering what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

The crackling, sultry voice of Patsy Cline flooded into your ears. Your eyes blinked open to see familiar plain white walls. You breathed in to smell fresh pine and some reminiscence of Joel’s cooking. 

Home. You were home. 

You could feel yourself groan as a dull pain spread from your abdomen to your chest. Your head felt a little fuzzy, and you tried to get your bearings, pushing yourself up from what felt like fluffy pillows. 

“Easy. Woah, slow down.” You smiled at the high-pitched voice. Ellie. 

She grabbed your hand, the other guiding the small of your back to sit up. While your wound had mostly healed by this point, there was still going to be a lot of internal discomfort. 

“How long was I out?” You rasped out, your vocal cords rubbing like sandpaper against your throat. You coughed out, and Ellie was quick to bring a glass of water to your lips. 

You gulped down heavily, the relief of the cold liquid soothing your aching throat. You cleared your throat and handed the water back to her. “How long?”

Ellie bit her lip, an uneasy expression lifting onto her face. “Six weeks.”

Your mouth gaped open. “Six weeks? Oh my god—”

She tried to quickly play it off as if she, Joel, Tommy, and Maria weren’t shitting their pants every day at the thought of you never waking up. “But Patsy Cline woke you up! I played all your favorites, especially the ones that you and Joel like to sing all the time, and I knew for sure that she was going to do the trick and—”

“Where’s Joel? Is he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Ellie winced at the mention of his name, but her heart also thumped against her chest. You were literally stabbed in the stomach and almost died multiple times, yet you still thought of someone else. You still thought about the safety and well-being of Joel.

His typical sunshine. Her typical mother. 

She gently squeezed your hand. “Joel is fine. He only had a couple of bruises.” She paused before answering your first question. “He’s, um, at Tommy’s.”

You just blinked, feeling the disappointment crash against your chest. “Oh.” 

Oh. That was okay. He didn’t need to be constantly by your side. Maybe he just needed some rest or comfort from his younger brother. That was okay, right?

Right?

“Is he sleeping?” You could tell by the way she avoided your eyes that something was wrong. What that was, you weren’t exactly sure. He wasn’t injured, so what else could it be? You gulped—suddenly feeling parched again. 

“No…He’s awake. I think so, anyway.” She winced again and knew that she wasn’t helping his case at all. “He hasn’t exactly left Tommy’s to come here.”

When Joel carried you all that way to the clinic in Jackson, he collapsed on the hard ground and cradled you in his arms. You felt cold. You felt unmoving. The entire walk back, he felt helpless—breaths of hopelessness crowded his brain, and all he could think about was that he lost you.

When they tried to take you into the operating room, Joel almost wouldn’t let them. He was clouded by fear and burning with uncleansed rage. 

He lost you, and he did nothing about it. He lost you, and he did nothing about it. It repeated through his head until he could no longer think, hear, see—anything at all—but those words. He couldn’t let them take you—he wouldn’t let them take you from him.

Finally, after realizing that he was wasting the precious time of your beating heart, he let them carry you into a back operating room. He never left the clinic that night, even after the ten-hour surgery. 

After that, though, Joel wasn’t the same. At least, he didn’t feel like it. 

While Tommy knew that and Maria knew that, you and Ellie didn’t. Ellie hadn’t seen Joel in six weeks—just Tommy checking in and bringing her the basics of food and water and helping you. Maria would come too, to bathe you and give you medicine. At first, Ellie thought that Joel had just been hurt or he was forced to go on another patrol.

But no. She realized Joel just hadn’t visited you at all. She was angry at first, stomping over to him and giving him a piece of her mind. As she calmed down, though, she knew Joel cared about you. Deeply. 

He was just…Joel. 

He was unemotional and brash. He was jarring and inanely grumpy all the time. He has violent tendencies and a very distant, dark past. He pushed everyone away from him—only gave affection within a ten-foot pole radius. God, he really, really pushes the people he loves away. 

She knew that she could handle that. She was stubborn and hardheaded like him, so it was a bit easier. She just was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Ellie and Joel were your worlds. You even told the two of them that when star-gazing one night on the roof of your cabin. You were sweet and doting. You were so calculating and headstrong when you needed to be. But if Joel wasn’t careful about this, she knew he could break your heart.

You go to stand, suddenly feeling a burst of anger rush through you. Ellie could tell by the way your eyebrow twitched and the hard thumps of your socked feet sauntered across the floor that you were very mad. 

“Look, please just—”

You hear a crashing noise outside of the guest bedroom door. Both of your heads whipped over to the loud sound. You would have almost let fear take hold of your chest if it weren’t for Joel bursting through the door not a second later.

His chest heaved up and down, rapidly, and eyes wide at the sight of you standing. You were in some sweatpants and one of his flannel button-ups. Your hair was a little damp. He had no doubt it was from Ellie washing it earlier this morning. 

“Joel.”

His eyes don’t even acknowledge Ellie’s presence. They’re just scanning your body over and over. You seem okay. You seem good. You seem alive.

His body carried itself forward before he was even thinking. His arm stretched out, and the pads of his fingers stroked your cheek. He takes a minute to look at the ways your eyes shone from the light of the window. 

He then retraced his hand so fast, as if your skin was a hot stove—sizzling and burning to the touch. He even took a few paces back. He could feel his eyes watering with each deep, dismal thought pulling him under. 

“You’re awake.”

He said it so softly that you weren’t even sure you heard him right. You just stood there, mouth opening in shock at his reaction. You weren’t really sure what to make of any of this. Shit, you weren’t even awake twenty minutes ago. 

Ellie cleared her throat at the awkwardness. “I’m gonna…go do things.” With that, she left the room, and a small ‘yikes’ escaped her lips. 

There was a long beat of silence before either of you spoke. Joel still looked at you, though. He couldn’t help himself. He still couldn’t believe that you were awake. You were the one to break it, your mind was wandering too aimlessly at all of the unknowns. 

“You didn’t visit me.” He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him talk. “Ellie said I was in a coma for six weeks and you didn’t visit me.”

The cracking of your voice and the tears on your waterline broke his heart into two. It was split wide open and ached against his chest. “I-I couldn’t. I saw you layin’ there, darlin’, and I just couldn’t.”

You lightly scoffed. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I mean seriously Joel, who the fuck doesn’t visit their partner after they almost die and—”

“What do you want me to say, huh? That I wasn’t fuckin’ there for you? Is that what you want me to say?”

You purse your lips, your hands flying in the air. “No! I–I wanna know why, Joel. I wanna know why you couldn’t even see me.”

His nostrils flare at your tone—crackled and gloomy as it echoed across the room. “Why would you want to see someone like me? Huh? Brad was all over you, and—”

You couldn’t believe him right now. You almost didn’t, but the swirl of green that rested in between his eyes said otherwise. Joel didn’t visit you in your own shared home after being seriously injured because he was jealous? 

“Oh, my god.” You wanted to laugh, and you did. Laughter, the kind that was dark and fluid, bubbled through you. “You can’t be serious.”

You could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you. His hands were tight around the doorframe, and his eyes were glued to the ground. You wanted to pry a bit more, but as Joel always says, “You’re an absolute sunshine until that fire ignites inside of you.” 

“Maybe I should go to him, then.”

Yeah, that got his attention. His eyes flickered up towards yours, mouth opening slightly. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard me. Maybe I should go see Brad. I should tell him to take me out to dinner at the bar. He seemed super interested a couple of weeks ago when he—”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Your mouth snapped closed as Joel towered over you. His nostrils flared, chest pulling up and down at a rate that was too calm—too calm while the red between his eyes burned a hole in your own chest. “You think Brad can please you? hmm?”

His fingers grip your jaw so that you’re forced to maintain eye contact. Not that you would give the satisfaction to Joel from the throb of your core anyway. “Yeah, Joel, I think he can.”

His eyes squinted, his face leaning even closer than before. “So if I shoved my hand down, your pussy wouldn’t be drippin’ for me?”

Yeah, okay. He’s got you there. “Huh? Gonna say anything, darlin’?” You defiantly squint your eyes back up into his. His tone was anything but sweet—it was snarling and patronizing as his brows furrowed even further.

Before you could even open your mouth to give a snarky comment back, Joel aggressively shoves the sweatpants you had on down to your ankles. “You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?”

He gets on his knees, fingers pushing between your folds. Sure enough, you’re wet. As if on cue, Joel smirks as his finger swirls to grab your sweet nectar. “F-Fuck you, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He groaned into your ear. His thumb presses deep into your clit, sparking your hips to jolt at the pressure. “I don’t think so, darlin’. I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

You gasped, “J-Joel–”

He slipped his index finger, pushing through your tight walls. His cock twitches at the whimper that left your lips. “All I’m doin' is fuckin’ you good with my fingers.” 

His torrid voice breaks you whole, sweet accent slurring his words together. “Can Brad do that? Could he make you dumb from just his fingers?”

He wants you to answer him, but he knows the pleasure is starting to blossom in your lower abdomen. His fingers always made you cum so fast and so hard. They always stretched your aching pussy so wide and scissored the perfect angle into you.

So, he was going to take his sweet time. 

He chuckled. “C’mon, you weren’t this shy earlier. I want you to answer me, sunshine.” Your head tilts back in a gasp, the nickname rolled off of his tongue, and it was so blissful. “Can Brad do this?”

You shake your head, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. You were sensitive—really sensitive. “You can do it, pretty girl.” God, he was enjoying this a bit too much, it was starting to drive you insane. “Answer me.”

The demanding tone struck through your chest, and you almost didn’t give in. All anger practically washed out of you when he inserted another finger—curling them with each thrust. “No! H-He can’t. B-Brad can’t fuck me like you do.”

A devilish smile sprouts from his lips at your affirmation. “That’s all you had to say, sunshine. I fuck you better, hmm?” The squelch of your juices running down his fingers sounded almost ethereal to his ears. “Look at you,” he coos, and you almost believed that it was sweet. “Fuckin’ dumb from just my hand.”

He pauses, almost taunting like. “Do you want my cock?”

Your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders, his name clouding over your mind, and it was all you seemed to think about. “Yes! Please, Joel! I-I want your cock. N-Need it, please.”

“Well, you can’t fuckin’ have it.” His fingers shove even deeper through your walls—finding that spongy spot that makes you mewl. “You don’t deserve it, sunshine.”

You weren’t sure how much more you could handle as the pressure builds, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. “Joel, please. I’m—” 

Oh.

Oh, you see it now. You almost say it. The apology almost rings through your ears. He wanted you to apologize for what you said to him, and it almost worked. Almost. 

You may be happy and considerate the majority of the time, but you were angry. Irritation still bubbled up between your chest, and you weren’t about to let Joel get away with something so easily. 

As if he knew, his eyes flared in anger. “Fuckin’ cum.” 

“I–I won’t—” You say defiantly, trying to make him more frustrated. He knew you better than that, though. He could feel the clench of your walls and the grip on his shoulders became increasingly tight.

“Fuckin’ cum right now, sunshine, or—” Your mouth hangs open as your orgasm breaks you whole. It flutters through you as he works you through it, thighs shaking and Joel’s name chanting from your lucid tongue. 

“Doing so good for me, yeah?” His hand thrusts into you, thumb still stroking your puffy clit. He groans at the gush of your juices dripping down to his wrist, and he leaned down, tongue swirling to just grab a little taste of you. “Y’taste so good, darlin’.”

Your head rolled over to nod. Your eyelids were heavy from the pure pleasure that rushed through your head and down to your toes. His fingers slip out of you easily, and plops them into his mouth, sucking every drop of your orgasm.

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and pulls himself up from the ground. Something sinks in between his stomach, though. He can feel the dread of confrontation unfolding in his eyes. 

The way you look up at him, Joel knows he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this. Your hand fluffs through the back of his hair, and he thought that your touch would bring him the comfort he needed. But it doesn’t.

He feels like he is going to be sick. He was mean to you. He degraded you. He acted like he didn’t trust you. You could see that he was pulling himself away from you with the way that his eyes snapped shut and his head shook back and forth. 

You tried to reel him back in, wanting him to know that you were just as angry as he was. You were just as turned on by his rage as he was by yours. But it was no use. Joel Miller had made up his mind already.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Your face fell as he bolted from the room. Pain swirled in your stomach, and a sob escaped your lips. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, and everything just felt so wrong. There was a sunken feeling in your chest—a feeling of a hole burning through your heart. 

He left you.

Again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tap, tap. Maria opened the door to your bedroom just a little, peeking her head in. “So the rumors are true. You are awake.”

You turned the pages of your favorite book, not even looking up at her just yet. “Awake as anyone can be.”

She smiled up at you before fully pushing the door open and entering the room. She had a glass of water and a handful of pill bottles—probably expired, but they have been probably keeping you alive. 

“Any pain?” 

You shook your head, but that was far from the truth. You just didn’t have any pain from the area you got stabbed. You just had lots of heart and head pain. 

“Good. Since you were out for quite some time, your body was able to mostly heal.” You noticed the small bag in her arm and figured it was most likely some more medical supplies.

You gave her a faint smile and turned another page—eyes skimming the small words. “Thank god. You know I can’t stay still for long.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. She gave you the pills you needed. You swallowed them down, gulping the fresh water. After handing the water back to her, you looked down at your book again.

She looked over at you, and a smile widened on her lips. “He read that to you every night, you know.”

You blinked, confused. “What?” You dog-eared the book and placed it on the bed next to you. You had somewhat of an idea, but the shock was still evident. “Who?”

Maria smiled and set down a couple of more pills on your bedside table. “It’s some pain medication if you need it.” After you nodded in acknowledgment, she sat down next to you on the bed. “Joel.”

Your eyes widened slightly. She continued, “After Ellie would go to sleep, he would sneak into the house. I told him he didn’t have to do that, but well, you know him.” She knocked her elbow with yours. “He just sat there all night reading that book to you, over and over. He’d come back to our place at around seven in the morning before Ellie woke up.”

She paused, looking right at you. “I know how he is. I know you know more than any of us, but that day? I hadn’t ever seen him like that. He was broken. He muttered under his breath the whole way back that you were gone, and it was his fault. I kept trying to tell him that you still had a steady heartbeat, but he was just—just fully convinced.”

She gave you a watery smile, noticing the tears streaming down your cheeks. You wiped them with the back of your palm and sniffled from a runny nose. 

“Oh, Joel.” You sighed, feeling slightly guilty, but you knew he would hate that. You didn’t know. He specifically chose not to tell you or Ellie anything because that was what he does. He pushes you away because he thinks he doesn’t deserve you or this life you have. Your silly, precious Joel. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Get better, okay? I need my movie-watching friend back.” She pats you lightly on the back before standing up from the bed.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, I’m sure it was hell trying to watch Little Women with Tommy.”

She huffed, a hand on the doorknob. “You have no idea.” And with that, she left the room. You stayed there on the bed and tried to dry your tears. 

You felt an ache burst through you. You knew Joel wasn’t telling you everything. You knew it.

There was a part of you that still felt guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t. You just didn’t know what those six weeks felt like as he waited for you. He pleaded every night for you to wake up. Every ten hours after finishing the book, he would ask you all the same. 

You finally had enough of this. It was all his decision to wallow in his own darkness and sorrows—and you were going to put an end to it.

You took the duvet off of your lap and sauntered across the room. Your hand twisted the doorknob, and just as you whipped the door open, you were met with a hard chest. Joel’s hand was fisted, hanging in the middle of the air.

Your eyes widened as you looked up into his deep eyes. “Joel.” You whispered. Tears already started to water against your lash line from the sight of his creased brow and worried gleam in his eyes. 

“Darlin’.” He grunted. His hands clasp gently against your cheeks, and it pulls you forward. His eyes flickered across your face, and his thumb moved to wipe your tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I-I just didn’t want to tell you the truth, and I just–I used Brad as an excuse—”

“Joel.” You bit your lip, trying to shake your head, but his hands stopped you. His other thumb moved back and forth in adoration on your cheek. 

“I just–I know I failed you. I know I failed Ellie too. I made you a promise that I would never do that again, and I broke it.” His voice cracked, and he let out a huff of air.

“Joel, you didn’t.” Your hand moved up to his chest, stroking back and forth, and he closed his eyes. “You didn’t fail anyone.”

He shook his head. “I did. I did fail you. When I saw the b-blood that—” He paused at the gut-wrenching memory, “I couldn’t get to you. I-I couldn’t help you, darlin’.”

Your breath hitched. Joel was worried about trying to help you. Not saved—like you were some damsel in distress. Not saved, as in pushing you aside and using his ego like others would. Not rescue you. Not recovering you. He wanted to help you. 

“Oh, Joel.” Your hand goes to cup his cheek, “Look at me. Joel—” His eyes snapped open, and he stared at your breath-takingingly beautiful, teary face. “You did help me.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, but you beat him to it. “You carried me all that way, and no one else could do that. Maria had a broken wrist, Tommy has noodle arms,” Joel lets out a snort, “And we can’t rely on a complete stranger to carry me back home. You did. You helped me more than anyone else in this damn world.”

A sob escaped his lips at your sweet affirmation. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he surged your cheeks forward to his, lips desperately pressing against your own.

They swallow you—burning a fire inside of you and your hands gripping his chest so tight that you were afraid he would vanish if you hadn’t. He licks into you, moaning.

“Sunshine.” He said, a smile turning up on his lips. He pressed his own back onto yours, so chaste and tender that it makes your knees buckle. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

His lips moved to your neck, and he whispered that against your skin.“I’m sorry. I love you.” His hands flittered down to your hips and gradually started to move you toward the bed. 

You whispered right back at him. “I’m sorry. I love you.” You could feel his lips curl into a smile on your skin, lips still pressing against the base of your neck and your collarbone. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

He gently laid you down on top of the bouncy mattress, hovering over you. He started to take off his jeans, and you do the same with your sweatpants. He gently unbuttoned his shirt, but his eyes never left yours. In fact, they were boring into you. They were glittering under the dimmed light. They were bursting full of love and worship for everything and everything you. 

He leans over on top of you, and one of his hands gently massages your breast. You wantonly sighed, pressing kisses onto his scruffy gray beard. A hand gently rests on your hip, sparking a hot sensation on your skin. His thumb swipes back and forth, and it takes everything in you not to let tears roll down your face once more. 

“I love you, sunshine.” He said it with such adoration and love that your heart seizes in your chest. His cock slipped into you easily, the arousal from earlier and the dripping now mixed and connected. 

“Joel, I love you—I love you.” He moaned at the clench of your walls. His lips lowered to press soft kisses to your chest. He thrust deep, the head of his cock piercing through you. The sweet contrast of Joel was making you feel dizzy.

He pulled back just a little. He wanted to look at you—he wanted to see you. Your mouth hangs wide open for him, whines and whimpers escaping your throat. “J-Joel! Feels so good, Joel.”

He smiled, “Yeah, Darlin’? Love my cock, don’t you?”

You gasped, preening into him. “Yes! Joel—” He thrusted into hard and his deep, hips brushed up against yours. “F-Fuck, baby—”

“Y’Pussy feels so fuckin’ tight, sunshine.” His lips pressed so gently against your skin, tasting the salt that seeped through. He groaned, hips slapping up and puncturing through you. 

“Joel, I love—love you.” You whined. His hand moved to swirl circles on your clit. You could feel the pressure build and burst through you. 

“Gonna cum, sunshine? Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” 

You mewled, and he pushed into you a couple of times before you scream his name. “Joel! Joel, I—I love you, I love you.”

“Fuck, my sweet sunshine—” He grunts, coil snapping on his own and clashing against his abdomen. His cock twitched inside your walls, and he spilled inside of you. 

He pumps you full, while muttering under his breath. “I love you, sunshine. I—fuck—oh—I love you.” You whined his name over and again while he did the same. 

You clutched onto one another, desperate to be as close as possible. His lips pressed against your cheeks, leaving soft and gentle kisses in his path. He moaned as he felt your walls clench once more around him. 

You opened your eyes, flickering over his wrinkled lines and strong nose. You wanted to hold him forever, and he no doubt felt the same. 

After six weeks of pure agony, Joel finally felt whole again. He had you by his side, and he felt so loved by your presence. 

You were glad to be finally awake. The toll of being under for so long definitely affected you and your body. But, you couldn’t be happier than to share a little moment with Joel. Your Joel. 

Finally, after quite a while of enjoying each other's company—pressing soft kisses and caressing each other's skin—you break the silence. “We should probably go tell Ellie we’re okay.”

He nods in agreement, but he makes no sudden movements. “Jus’ five more minutes, darlin’?”

You gave him a big smile. “Yeah. Five more minutes, handsome.”

[coffeenuts]

[pinchinschlimbah]

Flower imagery in Kyo's lyrics - a comprehensive list

mostly taken from the DEG Wiki translations, if there's anything important I've missed or could be translated better please let me know!

--- "Together with the flower of illusion Inside the flower of illusion" Masquerade - Genkaku no Hana (1995) ""Cross"　"You"　The roses that gave light crumble." La:Sadie's - Kakou to Genjitsu… (1996) "Our encounter turns to flowers Our encounter and ironic parting…" La:Sadie's - Kuroi Namida (1996)

"The bouquet of flowers is blooming... The heart is rotten, the middle of an ugly tragedy... Atonement is a flower" La:Sadie's - Zetsudan (1996) "At the end that stings with poison, the flowers wither and the body ... A transparent future, a false world ..." La:Sadie's - Objectxxx (1996) "The prettiest flowers will be the poisonous ones (Those eyes I loved so, became abusive ones)" La:Sadie's - Shoukei Hatan Sekai (1996) "The flowers we grew together back then Now bloom in profusion beautifully by your side" Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (Missa version) (1997) "I sprout my seeds into your garden, But the red, wet bud shall not bloom." Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (If...trans version) (1997) "Those days that seemed so lovely, the poisonous flower garden" Dir en Grey - Erode (1997) "Always standing still in that garden, looking lonely You were watching only the falling flowers" "GARDEN I wished that one day I could meet you Always GARDEN In this season that will pass, forever… You… The sad flowers that are going to wither have seen thousands of nights, Your figure reflected in sepia" Dir en Grey - Garden (1997) "Like a poisonous flower I will show you how I bloom And I'll become a flower that will bloom once again" "And as our love crumbles I bloom with the flowers in a riot of colors" Dir en Grey - Jealous (1998) "An unreality was born within a flower OUTSIDE HUMAN VOICE" Dir en Grey - Unknown…Despair…a Lost (1998) "The bouquet of love that you gave me was a bouquet shaped from poison" Dir en Grey - I'll (1998) "From the window, I can see the cherry blossoms blown by the wind as usual. They are falling slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, just like dancing." "I know my life will end here alone in this room. Flowers nobody can find… The flowers hurry to fall, shaken by the spring wind. The wind is also blowing into the white room of the hospital." "I'll become ash and return to the dust tomorrow. I see cherry blossoms from the window, I want to rest beneath the tree. I'm in your arms holding me with your love. I'm quietly taken from room 304. To never forget about you. I'll remember you shaking with the cherry blossoms when the wind blows." Dir en Grey - 304 Goushitsu, Hakushi No Sakura (1999) "Put together the days of pain in asphalt. "bury" If you pray by crossing yourself, the asphalt will be filled with poisonous flowers." Dir en Grey - Mask (1999) "I'm a dying flower, but I want to be in bloom just one more time, just like before." Dir en Grey - Akuro No Oka (1999) "The divine wind turns into wind And disappears into the dark Blooming in the night of our reunion The shape of the lilies The divine wind turns into wind Blooming in the night of our reunion The light of the fireflies and the lily flowers" Dir en Grey - Hotarubi (1999)

"Sucking the honey, you who loved the flowers Don't notice me as my beak comes at You blooming all over with foie gras and escargot" Dir en Grey - Macabre (2000) "Turn into a flower, turn into a butterfly and prick me with your poisonous thorns" Dir en Grey - Audrey (2000) "Getting hurt, hurting each other People hide their wounds But I will overcome mine　 And my wounds will turn into beautiful flowers" Dir en Grey - Taiyo No Ao (2000)

"In your room I put one of the flowers you used to love so, now…The light silently dyes the center of the city white The last seasonal color that you saw I shed tears　Reality is a cruel thing, isn't it?" Dir en Grey - Ain't Afraid to Die (2001)

"I am speechless as the sorrow sinks in The flowers die away I am alone" Dir en Grey - Embryo (2002)

"This is the garden of suicide. Are you having fun? Will my dreams come true at that garden?" Dir en Grey - Audience Killer Loop (2003)

"It's a garden with no pulse." Dir en Grey - Shukubeni (2003)

"Flowers bloom and flowers fall, but a flower is as it is a flower." Dir en Grey - Sajou No Uta (2003)

"In the room, on the red wall hang Rosalyn, and the scent from the petals of the flowers fills the room but you are not here." Dir en Grey - Red...[em] (2003)

"I reminisce under the late afternoon sky of the pressed flowers I miss so dearly." "One cold evening I saw her as she stood under the Cherry blossom tree, with petals that bloomed too early." "She couldn't do anything but cry as her tears bloomed like the petals." -Dir en Grey - Drain Away (2003) "The snake makes way through the sheets and goes inside the uterus. It can seem like a Yoshino cherry tree; a cherry blossom petal, that dances sadly." Dir en Grey - Obscure (2003) "And it blooms and blooms, the flower that bloomed The crazy bloomed blood makeup" Dir en Grey - Fukai (2003) "Again you reach out and ants gather around the lily under the sun" Dir en Grey - Saku (2004) "The ashes are like flower petals that rise up to the sky" Dir en Grey - Itoshisa Wa (2005)

"I hate the song game of counting petals" Dir en Grey - Garbage (2005) "Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it will only be known as flowers of vanity" "Let's bloom flowers of attempted suicide…………………." Dir en Grey - The Final (2005) "When the seasons come and winter sleeps, I will come visit with flowers" Dir en Grey - Higeki Wa (2005)

"Welcome to the garden of destruction" Dir en Grey - Clever Sleazoid (2007) "I carve into my heart the sins And I live on dying The sakura blossoms on my wrist" Dir en Grey - Red Soil (2008) "Spring blossoms and the petals fall, giving life to the river Swaying from side to side, where will you go?" Dir en Grey - Glass Skin (2008)

Dir en Grey - The Blossoming Beelzebub (2011) [no floral references in the lyrics but listing here for the title]

"A mistake won't change one's way of life Be proud and let the pure white lotus blossom" Dir en Grey - Lotus (2011)

"Feel it? The breeze in the field The water reaches the heart and it gives life But the bud that sprouts… is trampled on again" Dir en Grey - Diabolos (2011) "So, let us swear for ourselves tomorrow, go on No More No Goodbye, from the death of the blossoming flower" Dir en Grey - Akatsuki (2011) "The ant lion searching for the light The lost heart always looks to the future as the flowers of lycoris sway" Dir en Grey - Vanitas (2011) "Joining hands with the flower that's lost its' way Don't want to forget the vagrant past" Dir en Grey - Ruten No Tou (2011)

"Using legs as stems in this flower arrangement" "A moment of joy is like a single flower's life" Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (Rinkaku single version) (2012)

"Those are the kiku flowers placed for the accident, that we're suppose to forget in a timely manner" Dir en Grey - Hydra -666- (2012) "Falling in love with a flower, you suck and suck on the sweet honey You don't even notice me Fangs out I bloom ablaze with love towards the escargot and foie gras that you are" Dir en Grey - Macabre (Unraveling version) (2013)

"You're gone The world without you The lily is not worth it" Dir en Grey - Soshaku (2014)

"Let the flag of our home country blossom" Dir en Grey - Midwife (2014)

"Counting the flower petals that burst out from this unstoppable way of life If it's going to break then … you understand right?" Dir en Grey - Magayasou (2014)

"You'll get used to it Are you used to it? The bouquet placed by the road laughs" "Prayers pile up If it scatters it means it's precious The bouquet no one tries to see taught me I stared at the future" Dir en Grey - Behind a Vacant Image (2014) "there is no evidence behind those righteous words the blood-hungry beast hides inside the wide-opened mouth for whom is this garden for?" "to the garden beyond reach where you sleep" Sukekiyo - Elisabeth Addict (2014) "let the fear take over and get out of control the garden blooms in the color of flesh come here, come here" Sukekiyo - Latour (2014) "it dances tranquility comes when i see the fluttering flower with you" Sukekiyo - Aftermath (2014) "i hate you more than anyone else hydrangea for whom will you get wet for?" Sukekiyo - Scars Like Velvet (2014) "To the garden of love If you want to be heard, let's see you start crying now" Sukekiyo - Foster Mother (2015) "Repeating the words like a favorite phrase Words bloom" Sukekiyo - Maniera (2015) "Having a guilty conscience is like a pretty garden at the end of happiness" Sukekiyo - Mimi Zozo (2017)

"Spring, let me go. Every time it blooms Even I am able to forgive by having at least one thing beautiful" Dir en Grey - Aka (2018)

Dir en Grey - Ranunculus (2018) [floral reference is the title, which is repeated throughout the song]

"The clown danced like crazy and made it bloom The flower was indeed very very beautiful" Dir en Grey - The World of Mercy (2019) "Welcome to the flower garden that's now turning into the bed for evil spirits of mountains and rivers Repeat the process, insert then pull" Sukekiyo - Guuzou Moratorium (2019)

"The reserved flower garden, D.T.C.T" Sukekiyo - Kou mo Chigau Mono Nano ka, Yousuru ni (2019) "The flowers seen thru the lens See the dream without hesitation Stripping as the world opens wide" Sukekiyo - Sesshoku (2020) "You say that everyone goes through it But I don't know enough about love to compare The scar will turn into a beautiful flower" Sukekiyo - Candis (2021)

"The heart grows the lotus The infinite expansion of heaven is righteous" Dir en Grey - Schadenfreude (2022) "If you look down the 13 flight of stairs, the flowers bloom I change To whose intention?" Dir en Grey - 13 (2022) "An empty room The flower garden blooms in the field Let's make the sound of love as I think of you" Sukekiyo - Scarlet (2022) "Even though it started With a small bud The more the wish overwhelmed, the more it made me feel empty Only the love　Yes, only the love Changes me And it makes the Margaret bloom The color fades and turns into tears The wish to lose my words Sings in the spring Swaying back and forth Making the petals scatter" Sukekiyo - Margaret (2023) "The withering flower, wanting to bloom beautifully like back in the day, just one more time" Dir en Grey - Akuro No Oka (19990120 version) (2024)

[angelitaby]

─── 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄!𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 likes to cuddle. he's a big guy, what do you expect? he loves to burrow his beak into your neck, marking his scent across your skin like perfume. he loves the warmth. whatever makes you so warm. he loves your mind and everything it creates. make more for him, won't you? he loves you. he loves you so fucking much, he thinks as he kisses along your collarbone, as he nips at your ear. kissing along the moon on your neck like you're a jewel he's been told to appraise.

─── future!leonardo and that voice of his... the one that gets lower when he's tired. when he's hungry. it has a deep churr, a sound found from within the pumping crevice of his chest. what does he smell like? he smells like home. he smells like the rocks around hot springs deep in a summer cavern. he smells like the meat and the blood from his latest kill. each kiss of his is warm even if his body is not. he reaches at your clothes and bundles his fingers into them to feel their texture. he likes textures. soft ones.

─── if you want to make future!leonardo basically be submissive to you, give him a good shoulder rub. poor man needs it. he's so tense yet he melts like butter in your hands. he'd probably grab your hands and ask you to continue if you tried to let go, mumbling a quiet "don't go yet" or something like that. he's never this vulnerable, so comfortable, so fragile. you'd be a fool to let this moment slip from your grasp.

─── if you ever got hurt, future!leonardo would kneel down on his knee, working gently to remove your torn clothes. it barley matters, they're ruined anyways. he lifts your leg and examines the skin. at this point, most of the blood has been cleaned. he doesn't give you a warning, not a single moment or even allowing a single breath. all you feel is a cold sensation of his tongue that contrasts against the chill of the silent room. leo laps at the edge between skin and muscle, where blood has clot and where fat threatens to break the surface. he looks like a puppy, his tongue leaving behind saliva that seems to shimmer in the low light. forgive him for he could not protect you today, let him make it up to you.

─── future!leonardo has nightmares of when and before the kraang. of his family who he's so sure hates him. everything he's lost, and everything he could lose. he wakes up in a sweat and barely out of a daze, and he does not talk. he rolls back into the blankets and he wants to ignore the world. he wants it to all go, this burning inferno of ash. all the pain, all the regret. fuck. he's sorry. he's so sorry—he's so, so sorry—he holds onto you close and presses his forehead against your arm. he doesn't even realize he's shaking until you stir awake. brushing your fingers over the small of his neck, gentle, quiet. comforting—oh, so comforting. please... please, don't hate him. don't leave him too.