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#No horses were harmed in the naming of this snap
januaryembrs · 1 year
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HEARTBEAT | Geralt x reader
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Request: hellooo! if your still up for requests i'd love a geralt one please! perhaps reader is vary of horses (maybe even afraid) and he tries to help? <3
description: After learning your fear of horses, Geralt takes a gentle approach at teaching you to trust his companion, Roach.
Word Count: 1.1k
Trigger warnings: fear of horses? close proximity?
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Authors note: I'm back finishing the last of the requests sent, I do so apologise for the wait I've been super busy over Christmas and hope to satiate you all soon!
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“What’s wrong?” Came his rugged voice, knocking you out of the stressed reverie you were in. 
“What?” You asked, half mindedly, “What do you mean?” You repeated, finally coming out of your thoughtful daze. 
“You’re being strange. Have been ever since we left town,” You felt caught. Witcher’s were naturally observant men, something you cursed yourself for not thinking of before, now that it had come back to bite you in the arse. 
And you had been acting strange. First it was refusing to mount the horse Geralt rode, Roach you knew her to be. You were tired all the time from walking the whole way to the next town while Geralt had the luxury of a steed, though you had brought the punishment on yourself you supposed. Then it was flinching every time the poor mare so much as whinnied, which she did so a lot when spooked by the monsters Geralt brought down. And now you refused to even sleep if she was too close to your bedspread. 
When you had been in town, it was not so noticeable. You spent a lot of time at the inn you were staying at, away from the bay coloured mare, so Geralt had not noticed the odd habits before. But now the two of you had hit the road and were sleeping next to a campfire instead of a roaring hearth, it was much more apparent.
“I-” You cut yourself off as the words died in your mouth. Your face blanked for a moment, thinking long about how you were to explain the issue to a man who knew no fear.
Geralt slayed monsters for a living, monsters that knew how to kill and kill well. Some of the bodies he brought back were two, three times his already mammoth size, and he still managed to charge at them without any hesitation. 
How on all the gods names were you supposed to tell him you were scared of horses? 
“Spit it out, then.” Geralt grumbled in his brash manner, though you could see in his amber eyes he was veiling his annoyance over true concern. Perhaps you wanted to leave him, he had expected nothing less. The two of you had only been friends a matter of months, but everyone always tires of him and his lifestyle eventually. 
He knew exactly what was to come out of your mouth. 
I don’t want to know you anymore.
“I’m scared of horses,” His head whipped up to meet your sullen eyes. Your face painted that of deep embarrassment, avoiding his gaze and poking at the fire with a frown. 
“What?” He bit, the confusion of the sentence clear as a bell in his tone. “What do you mean? It’s a horse.”
Your face flooded with heat that surely hadn’t come from the camp. The way he said it made it sound such a foolish fear to have. And it was, you supposed. Roach had never made any move to harm you or anyone else for that matter. But the idea of being atop such a muscled beast and giving her full control of whether she throws you off her or not made you frozen to the bone. 
“No shit,” You snapped, though all rebellion died in your chest as you accepted the fact he was clearly judging your fear of such a harmless creature. “I know it sounds ridiculous, I just always have been scared of them, alright?” 
Geralt pondered with a frown. Not even his usual ‘Hmm’ made an appearance, and so the two of you sat in silence. You feeling more foolish by the second, and him thinking fast of how to get through this problem of yours. 
Until he stood up brashly, walking over to his furred companion. You thought for a moment he was going to leave you here alone, thinking he stood much better chances with someone who was not so cowardly. And how could you blame him? You would hate to be stuck with someone so fearful when it came down to such a hostile environment. 
“Come here,” The behemoth man commanded, though he did so as gently as his rumbling voice would allow. 
You stared after him, eyes flicking to his outstretched hand, following his figure up to the calm mare that seemed unbothered by her owner's close proximity.
You hesitated for a moment, before standing and following his orders. Slowly taking steps towards the two, Geralt caught the moment your breath died in your throat as Roach grunted as horses normally do. He saw the way your fingers clenched at your side and your step faltered. 
He lowered his hand to calmly take yours in his large grasp, gently tugging you towards him and Roach despite the way he felt you resist. 
“Geralt-” You protested, her long snout seeking out your new smell and blowing hot air in your face. You tried stepping away from her, but Geralt’s body encompassed yours and forced you in place. His one arm stayed holding your wrist easily, while the other came around your body to push her snout away from your face softly. 
“She’s just curious about you, is all. She won’t hurt you,” Geralt tried to soothe you, feeling his strong heartbeat pressing against your spine. He began shuffling you forward under her neck with a strength you still tried and failed to resist against. 
“Geralt, please,” The panic was clear in your voice. You didn’t like horses and never would, and this kind of close exposure to them may have worked for some but only made you more on edge.
“Just trust me,” He whispered in your ear tenderly, lifting your arm up to her muscled chest. Your hand met her soft fur, her skin quivering momentarily at the contact though she showed no sign of upset, and his large hands spread your palm out onto her own heart beat. 
“Horses' hearts beat much slower than yours, did you know?” He murmured, keeping you tucked under her head and in front of him. You shook your head, feeling your own chest pounding at the proximity to such a beast. “Witchers hearts beat even slower than that,”  His breath was close to your ear now, as was Roach’s on your opposite side. You felt as if you were being squished in between the two of them, their breaths synchronising as they rolled down your spine in equal parts heat and chill. For every other beat of Roach’s heart came Geralt’s reverberating strongly in his chest, and it was then that you realised what he was doing. They sounded the same, horse and man. Hearts beating alike, breath swarming your senses gently, no danger to be found. 
If you should be worried about anything on your journey, it should be the monster-slaying beast that stood behind you that caressed your hand so kindly, and whispered in your ears that made your breathing stutter. 
This time when Roach nickered in your direction, you felt little fear, atleast half of what you’d had before. There was nothing to worry about when you had a man like Geralt guiding you.
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2K notes · View notes
rise-my-angel · 1 year
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Haunted Anguish
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Credit: @a7estrellas
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Length: 15.3k
Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, trauma related mental instability, mentions of blood, accidental self harm, nightmares and sleep paralysis, smut, outdoor smut, p in v, sex as a coping mechanism
Notes: Ptsd is not mentioned by name or diagnoses, but presentation of symptoms is a theme throughout the fic. Direct follow up to Past Retribution but can be read as a standalone.
The week after the bite, you knew you were losing yourself, and you weren’t stupid enough to think Joel hadn’t picked up on it. But you struggled to stop any of it. The metallic flick was the only thing you could focus on. Not the sounds of people walking around, not the conversations that passed you by, not even the quiet shuffling of the horses mere feet from you. 
It was hard to pinpoint this feeling that had been growing for days. It wasn’t like your brain was lost in a fog, the total opposite. It felt like you walked through a world that blurred around you. Mute and numb to your existence despite the truth being otherwise. There was a growing heaviness in your chest that each day filled just a bit more with a disgusting guilt and the past 2 days your hands kept pulling out the lighter as if it possessed you to do so. 
Maybe if Joel hadn’t grabbed it would this feeling disappear? He had seen what you had done, what you had tried to do, he must had assumed it belonged to you, and now it sat in your pocket at almost all times screaming at you along with the bite that loomed over it all. 
You wanted to blame him because it was an easy out, an excuse as to why you carried a burden with you. But it wasn’t Joel’s fault and you knew that, and the lighter wasn’t the problem. It was the memories it held from that day that haunted you, and those weren’t so easily gotten rid of. 
There was a small wooden bench pressed up against the corner maroon coloured wall, a small square room protruding from the edge where supplies could be stored allowing you to sit with your back against it and legs stretched out, one knee bent up where your arm rested on. You had been there for quite a while, your tasks for the day long completed yet you sat there. 
On and off you occasionally flicked the lighter so the flame appeared, and you felt lost in it, the heat ever so slightly trying to burn your fingers the longer you let it stay lit. The muffled world simmered down to a silence before a clang of metal snapped you out of it. The sliding doors felt loud as you could see Joel’s figure make it’s way into the room. 
At first he leaned his hand against one of the doors with the other on his hip, the sunlight shining behind him shrouding his features in as slight shadow, but his voice was as clear as can be. “You coming back anytime soon, or do you want me to bring you a sleeping bag?” The grin in his voice was audible and any other time you would have let out some sort of a laugh. 
But all you did was watch the flame for a second to long, Joel calling your name in a louder tone until you snapped your head up to him properly, hand slamming the lighter shut. Almost as if you didn’t really hear him you just raised your eyebrow in question. 
“I said, are you ready to head home.” Pushing off of the entrance door, Joel took slow steps into the room, eyes narrowed as he looked you over in an expression you couldn’t quite pick up on. “I feel like I’ve barley seen you the past couple days.” 
The one arm resting on your knee pressed down onto it harder as your fingers tightened around the lighter while the other dig into the fabric of your pants until you could feel the stinging pressure. You shook your head slightly and swing your legs over to put your feet down. “Sorry, yeah, I’m done for the day.” 
“Hey, easy there.” Joel suddenly had you in his hold as he forced you to stand up slower. “The last thing we want is to redo your stitches 3 days in a row.” The sternness of his voice felt like condescension. You were just an inconvenience, needing him to redo them every time you ripped them open carelessly all beacuse you couldn’t reach the angle to stitch yourself back up. 
Swiftly you tried to pull your arms from his grasp, not quite meeting his eye. “I got it.” 
“Do you?” Joel has stopped your pulling away with a firm hold on your upper arms, body slightly bent to look at you closer. If you didn’t feel the way you did, you would have known Joel’s tone wasn’t what you interpreted it as. To him, it was concern. The first day after he and Ellie brought you home you were fine it seemed, but the next day it was like you suddenly were trapped in a memory and the fact that you barley even registered the pain of ripping your stitches open only made him more assertive in checking on you. 
To you though, it felt like scolding. It felt just like the early days of knowing each other, that night when he yelled at you on the porch of his house in the pouring rain. Like a parent doubting a petulant child, the very thing you had previously worried he saw you as. 
Your eyes snapped up to him, a flash of not quite anger, but irritation swam in your eyes. “You wanna check?” Knocking one hand off of you, you brazenly lifted one edge of your shirt up to reveal the unsavoury sight of the healing wound in your side. New stitches in tact. 
Joel was silent for a beat, and it wasn’t just his tone that you didn’t grasp, it was also the concern plastered all over his face that you read as annoyance. “Good. They look better today.” He went to put a hand on your lower back to lead you out, but found himself hovering over you instead. 
His eyes looking to the side at you debating if you’d shake that off as well. Joel could tell what happened out there was boiling something up inside of you, but it was like you were shutting him out entirely day by day. He couldn’t get it out of you to talk to him, but he was also aware not to push you too hard or you’d likely go back to your own place for god knows how long. 
Ellie had pointed out that now he knew how annoying being pushed away was. Meant to poke fun at him, but both of them read her tone. She looked for you constantly, always throwing her head back and forth hoping to see you join them or come home and it was hurting her more than she admitted. Joel knew exactly how she felt. 
Your arms were crossed tucked protectively against your chest as you made your way home. The crunch of the gravel filling the air between you as the normally comfortable silence now felt stifling. Joel broke it first. “You know you can talk to me right?” 
The only response you gave was a nod, and he prompted again. “I just- keeping all that inside can’t be healthy. Trust me, sweetheart I’d know.” Sensing you weren’t at his side, Joel pivoted around to see you looking at him more harsh then he’s used to from you. 
“Keeping what inside me, exactly?” 
At this point you were near the main street, people all around as you posed an unfair question you knew he couldn’t answer here. “You know what.” 
Your face was firm and somewhat impassive. “Do I?” 
It wasn’t an anger Joel was feeling, but a frustration that he wasn’t sure how to help you. He wasn’t stupid, this had to do with what happened with Don, probably what happened all those years ago too. And not that he’d admit it, deep down he wondered if any of this had to do with your immunity as well. You had been left to be infected and die twice by the same man, both times you came out the other side alive. 
It weighed on Ellie too, but in a different way. She was young, Joel could protect and guide her through those feelings. But you weren’t, and he couldn’t force you too far. 
Your name slipped from his lips in warning, but still soft and close to your ear as he stepped into your personal space. “I’m not just going to let you fall down that rabbit hole.” His large hand encompassed your cheek, finally relieved that you didn’t move away form his warm touch. “That’s a place you don’t deserve to be.” 
You slid your gaze away from him, the feeling in your gut quickly flying back to guilt. Once again you just nodded in agreement. Raising your hand up to squeeze his wrist in affection with a smile that certainly didn’t make it to your eyes. 
But it was something, so you both left for home in relative calm. You weren’t that much more talkative throughout the evening. You could see Joel and Ellie threw you prompts to join the conversation, but answering with a proper sentence wasn’t common. “Just busy is all. Daisy’s just about ready to give birth so I got a lot on my hands.” 
Daisy was a particularly stubborn horse that was most attached to you. She gave most people a stink about everything unless it was you, and her ready to give birth only made her more aggressive about shoving anyone but you away. It did take a lot of your time, but all three of you knew it was just an excuse to be alone more often then not.   “I can help out with the others if you want to just focus on her?” 
The bright hopeful look on Ellie’s face was slightly heartwarming. She clearly was desperate to get closer to you know that you had something incredibly rare in common. So you tilted your head to the side in a little shrug. “Sure, don’t see why not.” 
It wasn’t lost on you that finding such a familial bond in Joel, settling somewhere that felt like home has opened her up to you. The very real possibility, that finding a life somewhere so normal and meeting another person just like her, has her yearning for something akin to a family. Not just a father, but did she really deserve to be dragged down your path?
You were slower than them picking at your food, often tapping the fork lightly against the plate as your eyes fell back into this strange feeling so incredibly hard to understand. At one point you could feel Joel’s hand gently caress you as he slid it along your shoulder blade, before coming up to bring the side of your head closer to him. Pressing his lips against your hair me mumbled into you, “We’re gonna talk later, okay?” 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you gave back the only affection you could summon. Squeezing the hand on your shoulder and leaning back slightly into his broad frame. He pressed one more smaller kiss into you, “I got you, sweetheart.” 
Joel always reminded you of that, but did you have him? Were you good enough to be here, or did your constant mistakes just pull them down? You seemed to keep putting yourself into life threatening situations of your own doing, and you couldn’t help but wonder just how long you should put Joel and Ellie through this. 
If you were honest, talking was the last thing you had the energy for especially with a man like Joel Miller, but you made your way into the bedroom anyways.
It was later in the evening when you had said goodnight to Ellie before pausing at Joel’s closed door. Your hand was over the cold metal of the door handle as your rested your forehead against the wood. You couldn’t avoid this one, Joel would just stay awake until you’d try to go to bed. Letting out a shaky breathe, you slowly opened the door just enough to slip inside. 
He looked so soft, the dim glow of the room painting the side of his face like a painting. His features so handsome it never failed to pull you into it’s alluring grasp. Dressed in just a soft t-shirt and flannel patterned sweats, he was leaned up against the dresser with his hands braced behind him on the wood. 
Gesturing with his chin to where the bathroom sat just outside of the door, “Ellie skipped out today, there should be enough hot water for you to actually enjoy for the whole time.” 
Your hands twiddled at your sides, before shaking your head no. Mostly ignoring the side of the room where he stood, you pulled your shirt over your head as the fabric muffled your words. “I’ll just wait until morning. It’s late.” Not really looking at him, you mindlessly grabbed a sweater of his laying on the bed. 
Totally missing the fact that Joel had clearly sat it out for you. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you choose an early shower of a night one.” You missed the furrow of his brows as his grasp on the drawer handles tensed more. 
You just shrugged. Sitting on the edge of the bed to change into your own sweatpants you now faced his direction but looked at the floor. You could see he had pushed off of the drawer and made his way to your. You didn’t want to be alone with this whirlwind of unknowable emotions anymore today, you just wanted to sleep.
He’d wait up for you if you showered now. You could sneak out tomorrow morning and come back to shower when the house was empty. Besides, if you did now no question Joel would end up leaned against the sink counter. Ready to take care of the hot pressure of the water pouring down onto a wound he knew you weren’t actually trying to take care of. 
Joel hovers when he worries, and for the first time you think you hated it.   
Crouching down to look up at you, Joel didn’t touch you this time. Just gave you the space. “You can’t just shut me out, not after I almost lost you.” His jaw was clenched but there was a familiar affection in his eyes that shined more sad than romantic. 
“I don’t know what you want me to say, I told you what happened that day I wasn’t lying or keeping anything from you.” Your hands tapping against the sheets beside you. “I just want to let it go.” 
This time when Joel grabbed you, it was the side of your jaw with his fingers stretched just barley across your cheek. His tug was firm as he forced you to look at him now leaning over you. His face this time, was much closer to the anger you used to think he only ever showed. “Yeah? Well I can’t. You think I can just let go of the fact that I found you unconscious in a pool of your own blood? The fact that there was a fucking trail of it all over the floor, not even sure you were alive?” 
You shut your eyes, the watering feeling coming up to the surface of them as you fisted the sheets in your hands. “I’m not asking you to forget-” 
His hold on you gave a purposeful shake to open your eyes. “Good, because I’m not about to anytime soon. I’m not about to just get over having to sit there with Ellie, terrified you were going to wake up...but it wouldn’t be you.” 
There was upset in his eyes as well, but masked with a desperate anger. It made your guilt feel worse. The guilt flooding you with shame and reminding you how inadequate you had become. How useless you’d soon be to them, and you were terrified of what you’d do if, or when, he kicked you out of Jackson, out of his life.  You felt small as you just whispered out, “I’m sorry.” 
His forehead rested against yours, his other hand on your side just hoping you’d touch him back. “Don’t be sorry, just stop pretending I’m not here for you, because I’m never going to stop caring about you so goddamn much. Alright?” His thumbs ran comfortingly over your skin, leaving a starch warmth in their path. 
You nodded, fists still clutching the sheets. It always came around to not feeling good enough for him, but now you hated yourself for making him waste this fierce protectiveness on someone who didn’t deserve it.  Joel’s hands slipped from your face to plant themselves next to yours. Part of you yearned for his touch back, but the other part wanted to get away from him entirely. 
Your heart pounding in your chest, each beat feeling as if it constricted your lungs tighter and tighter. You could hear it in your head, demanding you let the feeling take over but you didn’t want to. Joel had put up with enough of this for one day, why drive him away further. 
Whatever Joel found in your eyes, it made him pull back from whatever he was trying to get out of you. Leaning off the bed you felt one hand pull your head in just slightly as he pressed a kiss there, mumbling as he pulled away. “Let’s get you to bed, you need the extra rest.” 
You didn’t consider it was referring to how little you were letting your side heal, it to your brain, was him wanting you to sleep off this attitude. So you nodded, and that was the end of that. 
Sleep though, brought you a whole other nightmare. Nothing was coherent, it was like your memories were mixed together into one warped event. The burning pain of sharp teeth sinking into you, your arm, your side, the blood that covered you from both. The yelling of what you had done ringing in your ears as a distant sound grew louder and louder behind it. 
Once again consumed by terror, it was like flashes of mutated once humans and the clicking that followed. That clicking grew even louder, mixing so harsh with the now indistinguishable yelling that the clicking made you cover your ears but it still consumed you. It yelled into your very head as the agony of the bites felt like it was all over your body, the walls closing in as you were surrounded by the very thing trying to turn you into them. 
The only thing that you could see as you sat against the wall was fresh dead. The distant sight of a man draped over his dead wife, and then that very man splayed dead on the floor from your own action. His yells still filling the air and the roaring of the creatures echoed in the air, only to stop suddenly as you lurched awake. 
Instantly pushing yourself up against the bed on the palms of your hand, you gasped for air as the sound of blood pumping flowed in your ears. You had been turned away from Joel, almost at the edge of the bed as close to the open air as can be. Briefly you shut your eyes as you worked desperately to taper your frantic breathing silently, the cold air in the room freezing with your sweat covered skin. 
Your arms shook with the force it took to hold you up, your jaw clenched so tight you could feel the strain being pulled to it’s limit. You didn’t want to flip over to look at him, you felt too much shame and such sickening guilt you didn’t want to look at anyone. It was too late in the night to slip out of bed. 
Joel’s internal clock was atuned to when to be suspicious of sound or movement, he’d wake up and you were not about to explain your painful trembling state. You just lay there once more. Staring out the window you faced at the dark nothingness the angle allowed you to see. 
You wondered if you had slipped in and out of sleep without noticing as the sky slowly brightened before your eyes quicker then you expected. You could still hear it, the sounds of your dreams, and all you could think was how little you wanted he or Ellie to see how pathetic you looked. 
It was close enough to morning that you knew you could get away without issue. Silently you slinked form the bed and got dressed, barley paying attention to what you were grabbing. As you dropped your shirt over your torso, you looked slightly behind you. Joel’s large frame still peacefully asleep like he deserved to have. You bit the inside of your cheek again, and left, slowly shutting his door behind him. 
Luckily the house was still silent. The only stop you made was downing a glass of water before throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking out. That though, did make you stop. Because Ellie was awake and leaning against the railing looking directly at you. 
Arms crossed and a hard frown, she wasted no time. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” 
Your face tensing as you squinted in the growing sunlight, you really needed to find a pair of sunglasses. You nervously readjusted your grip on your bag and shrugged. “I just have a lot to catch up on after-” 
Her voice got louder this time. “After what? Ripping your stitches open twice already?” Ellie’s tone was a bit easier to catch then Joel’s. There was an anger in her voice but it was mixed heavily with a waver of genuine upset. “You should be letting it heal before jumping back like nothing happened.” 
Her bright eyes bore into yours this time. No trace of anger, just distant desperation. Sighing as you looked down with your eyes shutting briefly, “Ellie,” 
“No.” You once again shot up this time brows furrowed as you looked at her. “What happened, it- it wasn’t nothing. I know it wasn’t.” Voice cracking weakly as she consciously or unconsciously grazed her fingers over where you now knew was a healed over brand of teeth. 
More guilt set in. Stepping forward you tilted her head up more to your height, “But that’s just it isn’t it? What happened happened, and it turned into nothing. For both of us.” The tension in her body was clear and while you hadn’t known her for as long as Joel, this was still the first time she was distinctly upset about something serious. 
“I know there’s Joel, but...” Sighing deeply she let her arms fall to her sides. “It’s different with you. No one but you knows what it feels like, and..” 
“It doesn’t feel good.” You knew exactly what she meant. Having to watch the exact same fate fall on person after person and you are silent in the background knowing that never became you. It was eating away at you, but that was the last thing you wanted for her. Your thumb moved to trace over her cheek. “You have me, I promise. It just...getting used to people knowing isn’t easy.” 
Ellie nodded. “Joel was the only person who knew that didn’t want something from me.” 
The pause in your breathe nudged at a thought you had not too long ago. Mixing what on had told you about the job he took that led him to her, and the mention of places Joel and Ellie had travelled through before arriving here. You looked at her, almost a hopeful look that you knew you didn’t feel. 
What exactly did she think those people wanted from her, you wonder. How much did she really know. You wanted to ask Joel, but the last thing you’d ever do to him is push for information about his past. So you settled for a middle ground. Kneeling down to her height more, you made her look you in the eye. “The only thing anyone should want for you, Ellie is to let you feel normal. That’s what Joel wants and it’s what I want for you too. You have me, but this?” 
Your own hand reached out to gently hold where you now knew the mark was. “I don’t want this being what defines you. What happened then is important, but so is now. Okay?” 
Ellie nodded again. Seemingly backing up a bit to give you room to leave. You gave a nod back before standing up straight and taking a step down the stairs before Ellie called you name. 
Turning your body, she stood now in front of the steps, fidgeting as if grappling with a decision she wasn’t sure she wanted to make. Whatever she really wanted, she changed her mind. “Are you going to be late again, tonight?” 
You wished she wasn’t getting so attached to you. Your intrusion on their lives felt much more like a leech minute by minute. “I’ll try.” Ellie took that as a final answer. Her eyes lost in thought before going back inside, slamming the door just loud enough you knew Joel had heard it. So you wasted no time and walked away. 
You had too much to catch up on, and you were sick of being stuck with your thoughts. The distractions was all you wanted to depend on right now, and to be honest? You really didn’t care if you ripped your stitches open again to do it. 
The entire day blurred around you once again, the time that passed feeling like hours were the length of days. It wasn’t even a week since the incident, yet if you were to say what it felt like, you’d say months. People always joked how quickly time passes, but you didn’t experience it the same way. 
To you, really ever since that day you had been left to suffocate on the heavy air, die from your wound, or worse, time felt like an eternity. So the day dragged on endlessly. Sometimes the people around you asked what was up with you, but you shrugged it off. You were naturally quiet, so they took it as such and you didn’t want any attention otherwise. 
Ignoring it was probably a mistake. During the afternoon, you had hopped up onto a platform to help drag up a heavy box, only to jump down with force. You knew right away what you did, you could feel it. Before joining up with the others, you slowly lifted your shirt just enough to see a trickle of blood. 
Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you dropped it back down. It wasn’t much blood, you just wanted to ignore the bite for once. You wish Joel had just finished the job and seared the skin over, but he was adamant and pretty offended that you wanted him to put you through what would basically be torture. “It’s deep and it’s fucking huge, do you know how painful that would be? Even if I did it when you were passed out, that kind of burn would wake you up from the pain and knock you right back out from shock.” 
You tried to reason with him, but the conversation ended with Joel raising his hand to interrupt you. “It’s not going to happen. Now or ever.” Pointing at you, the tension radiating from his body. “Don’t ever ask me again.” He stormed out of the room at that point and you never suggested anything like it again. 
You figured no one would notice what happened anyways. You had 3 layers on at this point and that’d be enough to cover up whatever blood seeped through your clothes. You did start to wince as the day went on though, but maybe it was deserved. 
Meeting up with Joel later on, the stinging reminded you that you deserved to feel this way. Multiple times in the evening you missed his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, but you gave nothing away he could easily detect. It wasn’t until that night did he find anything to confront you with. 
It had stopped bleeding by the time you went to sleep, it was just now open and painful. Later you wondered if it was just a normal nightmare would you have been normal enough not to catch his attention, but this time that wasn’t the case. 
Sleep paralysis was a new thing to you. You were half aware that it was Joel’s room you were in, but nothing around you looked like it. No it looked like the view on that grimy floor you laid out on as you waited in terror for the infection to take effect. The quiet wind blowing just outside the walls and the scattered movement of the creature reminding you what you were waiting to become. 
In the memory you got up eventually, but here you couldn’t. Nothing about you could move. Your body strained and vibrated as every nerve in your body buzzed at their inability to shift even slightly. Every attempt to turn failing. 
Your heart started to race as the panic built in your chest rapidly. You didn’t know if it was real or the panic you felt that caused the pressure, the sensation like your chest was being pressed and you couldn’t breathe. Fear filled your veins as you lost sight of knowing you weren’t here but in what was supposed to be a safe place. 
The reality forming into a terror that maybe this was it. That this was the final state, would you soon lose yourself or would you be trapped? Always fighting to move your body but instead of being paralyzed on the ground, would you be fighting against the infection doing it for you? 
You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t move any of your muscles enough to produce any movement of sound. In the back of your head it felt as if your eyes fluttered, like but nothing around you changed. It just felt like a taunt. The yelling seemed to come back, only quiet and different then before, and you lay there, radically terrified that you couldn’t even turn your head or open your eyes properly to see what was coming. 
What did startle you from this hell and pull you up into the real world, was a grasp of hands on your body and a stark voice in your ear. Suddenly you drastically flew up in bed and open your eyes as fast as possible. The deep heavy sensation threatening to pull you back under it’s still spell if you closed them again. 
Joel at this point had leaned across the bed with your cheeks cupped in is hands as he spoke softly to you. “Just breathe,” Nodding you slowly started to force yourself to breathe steadily in and out as your heart slowed, and your mind finally tore away from the pull. Joel’s whispers continuing comfort your disjointed thoughts. “Good, that’s good. You’re okay, sweetheart.” 
Without looking up at him, both of your hands weakly reached up to grasp at his wrists. Your head sort of tipping down into his hold a little firmer. In the back of your head, you were demanding to pull away and not fall for his endearing protection, to just separate and stop this before he decided he was caring too much for a lost cause.
But your anxiety won out. Looking up at the different kind of terror in his own eyes you wondered just how you looked in that moment before he woke you up. Wondering if the strange fluttering of your eyes wasn’t just a spine tingling figment of your imagination. God how could he even look at you anymore, if he saw such an uncomfortable sight laying out side him? 
You tried to whisper, but your voice was weary and your tone not in any way assertive. Just a mumbling, “I’m fine.” Which wasn’t enough for Joel. One hand moved to hold just under your chin to tilt your head up with his thumb, the other fingers finding part of your jaw. 
He kissed you perhaps a little more aggressive then he should have for dragging you from a terrifying sleep, but you couldn’t comprehend the kind of worry you continued to put in him by shutting out anything that was happening to you.  
His soft lips capturing yours over and over, almost muttering things into your mouth. Pouring words of scare and comfort into how he felt. Joel was always better at showing you how he felt then saying it, he he did it again here. 
Your own hands at that point, found a home on his torso. One pressed against his chest while the other grasped at his meaty side and dragged him into you more. Joel in that moment allowed himself to get dragged over top of you, one of his hands pressing your waist into the bed. 
It wasn’t until he teased your mouth open further with his tongue, and gently feeling the brush against yours that he tried pulling away. Muttering your name, be pulled back twice when you tried to chase his lips again, each time telling you, “Easy baby,” or shushing you with a gentle “Hey, hey settle down”, while his hands raked over the side of your head soothingly. 
He dragged the tip of his nose over the length of yours before pressing a kiss there. Leaning up enough to look you in the eye, his other hand cupping the back of your head to support you as you lifted it slightly to follow. “Joel, please I just-” 
His face was set in a firmness as much as you could see in the dark room. “Take it easy for me first.” 
You dove in already though, jumping into a water that needed Joel’s touch, his kiss like survival. “Please, I just need you right now. I need you.” Your voice almost pleading with him as you dragged your hands over around his neck, your forehead moving up to press against his. “I don’t want to think about that, I just need-” 
Joel nodded, his lips brushing against yours with every move. “You need me sweetheart, is that it? Need my touch to calm you down?” He wasn’t mocking or even teasing. It was a serious tone he asked you in like nothing else mattered. You must have looked pretty terrifying to get this kind of response in the middle of the night. 
But you needed it too. So you pleaded yes. “Please. I just need you in me, just for a little while.” 
Joel’s breathe was warm on your face as he sighed through his nose. Clearly conflicted in thought for a moment. Pressing one last gentle kiss to your lips, you could feel a fond almost smile breaking onto his face. “A little while, that’s it.” Joel sat up to straddle your legs between him, helping you up enough let you touch him as you needed. 
When he went to lift your shirt up, you stopped him instantly. Giving him to chance to even ask, just grasping them with yours and moving them to your bottoms and kissing him more. He dragged them down with relative ease, he was a man that honestly? Didn’t care about taking his time to undress your most private parts. He needed touch, and looking and feeling your bare skin on his, is what he wanted. You pulled his shirt over his head, and greedily felt his chest. 
His broad frame always consuming so much of the time you explored him. His broad frame spanned smiles on your small hands, and it seemed to go on forever as they naturally found their way to the soft rounder stomach beneath. Joel once told you that your softness and how much you had of it, made him obsessed. “Sometimes it feels like you’re the only damn thing in this world that isn’t rough or hard.” 
He very quickly tossed you onto the couch immediately after when you made a wisecrack about how he didn’t “feel very hard”. That was blatantly untrue and you both knew it. 
Even now pressed against your front you could feel his cock hardening with every trace of your fingers or swipe of his tongue against your own. With little warning, Joel yanked you up to straddle his lap as he sat upright on the bed, his knees and calves resting below him as his thick thighs and equally thick cock functioned as your own seat.  
You lucked out in the nic of time. The very moment Joel grabbed too close on your waist to your still ripped open stitches, he also ground you down onto his cock. The jump in his arms was followed by a needy gasp that disguised the painful one behind it. You once again wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his hands down to your hips. 
“Spread out for me, sweetheart.” He meant to kneel you back down onto the bed, finding his favourite spot between your legs but you couldn’t risk that. Joel was grabby when he tasted you, and he’d no doubt either push your shirt up too high or grab at it mindlessly. 
“No, no no, I just need you in me, please. All of you.” Your hands flying down to his waistband and trying to push it down enough to feel the course hair spread across his pelvis. He sensitive area pulled a shaky moan from him before he kissed you again. 
“I need to stretch you open, baby it’s been a while.” He meant it kindly, but you just didn’t want to risk it as insane as you knew it was. When you protested, he pulled you into his bare chest with a hand wrapped behind your back. “You’re a tight fit even after I’ve already fucked you plenty, let me take care of you.” 
You needed to distract him. So you took your chance and pulled his waistband down enough to wrap your hand around his cock. He jolted in place and groaned into your shoulder as his head dropped into you. “Fuck,” 
Pulling him out into the open air, you worked him over taking advantage of every leak of precum he gave you. For a moment he was lost in you. The sound of the wet skin of his cock you stroked up and down, the tightness of your grip and the steady speed you jerked him forced moans out of him and his arms to tighten around you. 
The muscles of those arms impossibly large and all consuming as he luckily held you just above your side. It almost surprised Joel how much just you stroking his cock could work him up. His hips trying to chase your pace as he could feel the tension in his body coiling, but he wanted to take care of you more. 
Pulling back from your shoulder he aggressively kissed you, ripping your hands away and positioning your hips to hover just above him. Mumbling into your mouth, Joel still checked in. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 
Nodding against his lips, Joel took your word for it. Every time you were sat in his lap, his cock never eased into you. He sank so deep and it pulled mutters and swears from his gritting teeth. You had covered his cock as much as you could, smearing his own cum over his cock as you stroked him to already get him wet. 
You were wet, but you knew not what he would think was acceptable enough. There was a distinct burn that made you hiss out. You could see the instant concern but took advantage of his still somewhat sleepy state. Dropping your head into his neck and shoulder just as he did, you gave a genuine moan from how deep he was and how thick his cock felt snugly inside of you. 
You very quickly begun kissing and nibbling at the skin of his neck and Joel’s moans were shameless at the attack of such a sensitive area. His hands with a grip on your hips so tight the bruises already started to bloom in his fingertips shape. Moving you slowly up and down the length of his cock got gasps and whimpers out of you. 
The slow pace didn’t last as long as he intended. His cock finding that spot inside of you quickly, the intense pleasure it would spiral you into was something he almost always took advantage of. You grinded into his cock more and more, trying to meet his pace, but Joel was the one yanking your hips up and down. 
It was his cock that he thrusted up into you as he pulled you back down with an echoed slap of your thighs against his. That sound that drove him insane, and Joel didn’t quite know why but it only started after he found you. Fucking up into you as the slap of your skin together rang in his ears and harmonized with the moans and whimpers you stuttered out between pleads of his name. 
One hand of his snaked down to grasp at your ass as pull your hips even tighter against him just as he sunk his cock as much as he could into your warm, wet pussy. “Oh god,” the gasp bled into his own moaning. 
Working you over his cock as he rambled about how good you were, how “so fucking good” you felt around him. Nonsensical muttering about staying inside you forever as his entire body coiled and tightened once more, causing him to sacrifice a steady pounding into quick and breathtaking shallow thrusts. His hips slamming into your own fast, making the air nothing but the moans of each others need, and your skin slapping together so fast that by the time the first slap had faded it was replaced with a newer one once more. 
His grip on your ass pushed you into him more, your clit now grazing against the rough hair around his cock. His hair tight in your hands as you whimpered, high pitched and desperate as you could feel the pleasure building as fast as he fucked you. 
“I got you, I’ve- fuck- I got you, let me have it, baby. Just let me have it, you can do it, you can cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” His cock against the warm wall inside you that blanked your mind of any thought, a whiteout in your head filled with nothing but your orgasm shattering around him. 
“Good, fuck- that’s my fucking girl. Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good around my cock.” Joel was chasing his own orgasm and he throbbed inside of you, the sensitive brush of hair against your clit not allowing you to really come down. “Gonna let me fill you with my cum? Let me spill inside you?” A question he’s never asked of you before.
You nodded into a gasp, and it didn’t take but a few more thrusts before Joel’s orgasm let go. The unbelievable need it fed you, feeling his warm cum spill inside of you, never really dripping out until he slides his cock out of the tight hold you have around it. 
You both held the other as you breathed heavily coming back down. Joel tipped your chin up to look at him with his fingers, cupping it gently enough to pull you into another kiss. You were distracted all right. 
Because as he hand smoothed over what he thought was a healing wound, you hissed in pain and there was no slide of his cock inside of you to disguise it. 
He pulled away from your lips without hesitating. His eyes narrowing at the guilt you had painted all over you. If it was lighter he might see the very start of another bleed finding it’s way over the fabric of your shirt, but he found it anyways when he yanked it up with one hand, and awkwardly leaned over you to turn his bedside light on with the other. 
It was clear they weren’t newly ripped. There was a distinct wear and tear that mocked him for not noticing the issue earlier in the day. The anger he felt looking at the painful memory didn’t last long when he looked back up. 
The shame and guilt on you was heartbreakingly distinct. You looked off to the side as your hands shook slightly pulling away from him. Assuming he was mad at you, assuming he didn’t want you touching him anymore. 
Whatever complex contemplation you normally thought through stoically was disastrously affected by the curtains being whipped open so soon after he fucked you. Joel took sex with you very seriously, but he also knew you did too. He knew how intense it was for you and his chest lurched seeing how fast those two emotions mixed together and collapsed in front of you. 
His jaw clenched briefly, before kissing your nose. “C’mon.” Gesturing his head to the door, “Let’s patch you up before that gets infected.” 
If Joel noticed your distinct pause at his word choice, he kept it to himself for now. As quiet as you could, Joel nudged you to take a seat in the washroom as he grabbed the med supplies. Bracing yourself, you hissed out again as you made you way to sit up on the sink counter. 
Peeking out the door you could see Ellie’s own bedroom, your thoughts consuming you with something you never considered before. You were at least an adult when you found out, someone supposed to be equipped to handle information like that, despite your current jumble of emotions aside. Ellie is still a child though. You filled with more guilt, wondering just how hard it must be for her to watch others around you fall to a fate they don’t know is impossible for you. 
Once Joel came back in, silently shutting the door you were back in your own head. Without even thinking about it, he gracefully pulled your shirt over your head once more, needing broad access to stitch. Your arm resting above your head as Joel coaxed you with warm mumbling every wince or hiss in pain, he noted you more than once glancing back to the door where you had been looking at Ellie’s room. “She needs you more than I think she’s willing to admit.” 
You only nodded mildly, but the guilt gathered in your eyes as Joel continued. “We uh, it wasn’t easy getting to this point.” You knew part of things, how they met, where he was supposed to take her, and what happened along the way to change his mind. It wasn’t until a little before getting to Jackson that Joel struggled to speak on, but you did know what he was asked to do was from the Fireflies. 
“They thought you’d just hand her over and wouldn’t care.” Joel stopped for a second, his bright eyes looking up at you, but you didn’t return it. “They never tell you why they want you. I only ever met them twice once I knew they found out, but they never tried to kill me straight out. They always wanted to drag me across the country. What they wanted from me was useless if I died before they could get it themselves.” 
Joel swallowed heavily, finding his voice wasn’t easy. The waver in his tone, how small it made him appear despite the deep intensity of his tone. “They didn’t tell me what they wanted with her until after I handed her over. Already had to prepped to go on the fucking table like the months I spent with her wouldn’t change a thing. She...I wasn’t going to let that happen.” He focused on your side as he spoke. 
The water was freezing as you dipped your toes into it, never wanting to ask about what happened that day but what you knew now had unwillingly connected a few dots. Tossing some things to the side, Joel rested his palms on your thighs, soothing them up and down. If not for you, then for himself. “The hospital.” 
Joel’s eyes shined with realization, and you almost knew then exactly. It made sense. You knew about that day with Sarah and you knew about that day as well. Ellie covered in blood after god knows what those degenerates wanted to do to her. 
It seemed so weird to you now. You’d only ever known them this way, how unquestioningly the fact of Ellie was his daughter. This protective love that was still forming, both of them navigating their fears. Ellie needing to get used to seeing someone care about her, let alone a father, and not be afraid she’d find herself alone again. 
And Joel grappling with becoming a father again, and your sudden understanding that he was right. He’d do anything to protect his family, and Ellie was his daughter. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. 
“It was you. The hospital in Salt Lake City.” 
Seeing his entire body tense up, you instantly leaned forward, pulling him by the back of his head to rest your foreheads against one another. You had crossed a dangerous border, and it needed to be softened before he let it fester in his mind. His grip on your thighs tightened, as if the feeling was keeping his feet on the ground. He nodded, “Were you-” 
Raking your fingers through his hair, Joel’s eyes shut. His face was so soft in moments like this, and you wanted more of them for him. “I didn’t know until Don told me. He uh-” You gulped, hoping to keep the boiling sickness in your stomach at bay. “He was apparently there that day. He mentioned some father killing a bunch of people to get his daughter out before the doctor could cut into her.” 
The sick feeling only increased. “I didn’t know they had kids. That they just didn’t give a shit about sacrificing a child for whatever they thought was their purpose.” 
It sat strangely with you. The life you had taken, lives you had taken to protect this secret about you. The image of Don, slumped dead on the floor had haunted you more than the memory of him trapping you to die in the first place. 
Did you deserve to live for even a sliver chance of saving a life? You didn’t know. Not for you, and it’s torn you apart for days now. That Joel and Ellie’s lives would be easier if you just let them take out, and you never had brought this to their door. 
But that’s why Joel let you in. That’s why he refused to let you keep this bottled up, he knew what toxicity was consuming you. “She doesn’t know.” You both lifted your heads at the same time, Joel’s hands moving to your waist this time, his thumb stroking back and forth over the sliver of skin below his handy work. “She was already under when it happened.” 
You didn’t need to even say anything. What you thought about it didn’t even matter, because you weren’t the only one with a guilt building up inside of you. Joel’s guilt was a lie, where yours was a regret, but it made you feel all the same. 
“She needs to know eventually. It’s a part of both of you.” 
You cupped his face in your hands, you both knew what was at risk now. This feeling inside of you, would that also be Ellie? The death around her at the expensive of a procedure neither of you knew much about, but was told it was for the greater good. It wasn’t just that though. 
You said it before Joel forced it out, easing his pain. “It’s you lying to her that’ll hurt. She can forgive you for that.” There was a distinct look of distance in your eye, something deeper that even here and now, wasn’t going away. “She’s not the one who has to bear the brunt of what she’s done.” 
Joel’s eyes bore into your own, a whirlwind of thoughts and need in them that he poured into your mouth as he leaned in for a kiss. His hands returning your own gesture and grasping at the sides of your face desperately. He knew it wasn’t him you were talking about, but there was no way to grasp the gravity of how you felt. 
Ellie is young, and was rescued from a fate she didn’t know she would suffer and wasn’t the one who spilt the bloodshed along the way. Joel’s at risk unlike her, he can’t survive what she can, he understands what he might be giving up when he killed those people. 
You can though, and you’re the one who has to face the selfishness of protecting your own life against the slightest possibility of something akin to a cure. Ellie needs to know the truth, but the heavy weight in your chest was something you didn’t want for her. 
Joel’s touch was refreshing, but it didn’t take away the conflict toiling your mind about the what if. A fate you refused to let fall to a child, but couldn’t let go for yourself, the painful truth that you just may be hindering a chance of help. 
Don wasn’t the first person you killed, and he likely wouldn’t be the last. But it had started something unlike any other time. It started a chain reaction of emotions spiralling out of control and you couldn’t catch your breathe long enough to understand them, let alone say what they felt like. You felt more and more worthless. 
Like you were starting to depend too much on others for your own well being, and the constant frustration that you didn’t know why. You haven’t been around people for this long in a few years, and never with a connection like this. How much of this was normal, and how much of it was you burdening Joel with your own interpersonal problems. 
Sometime in between the little bit of sleep you managed to get once back in bed, a sprinkle of rain has grown quietly in strength until how it poured down now. A loud heavy stream with clouds bearing above that darkened the afternoon sky. 
You had found solace in the steady ting of water against the roof. Many things flashing in your mind, but the focus of the repeating water droplets making any of them indistinguishable as you saw less and less of the present and more seeing into the white noise in your head. 
Unbeknownst to you, the amount of time that had passed was enough to draw Ellie over to you as you appeared to be lost in thought, your hand trembling in the air as it hovered above the counter. Interrupting your work in the kitchen with an overtaking buzz of incomprehensible flashes of pain before your eyes. 
It just so happened the very same time she called your name did the faint sound of a distinct click mix together and snapped your out of it. All in one fell swoop did the you turn to look at her, and the knife slipping from your hands, and slicing into the underside of your arm before slamming onto the ground. 
You didn’t really react at first, the sight of the cut now bleeding didn’t even register with pain, but the splatter from the angle of impact left a splatter on the side of the counter and ground that had Ellie shout, but what you couldn’t really tell. 
The only thing that found it’s way through your head was one word. Useless. To be honest the next few seconds you hardly did with any knowledge, as if you were alone once again you moved to clean and cover it, the entire time Ellie beside you, hands hovering trying to find a chance to help you. 
It wasn’t until the stinging surged through your veins at all once when you tightened and closed off the cloth wrapping did you snap out of this automatic state. Ellie finally grabbed you saying your name once more, “Are you-” Her blazing eyes darting to the blood still visible behind the wrappings back to the sharp look you gave her. “What the hell happened?” 
Confusion and panic was all over her expression, and for a second you almost remembered yourself. But over the sound of the pouring rain out heard the distant shouting of a voice that you just couldn’t take right now. 
Later the guilt would set in, but in the moment you felt very little other then the warm burning of your forearm and the constriction of your chest. You couldn’t be here anymore, you had done enough here and the only rational you could come up with was you should leave before being forced too. 
Before you knew it, you were slamming the backdoor with a throw as you took off in the rain. Did you run or was your walk just faster then normal? You couldn’t tell, by the time you found yourself with your back leaning against a tree far off from town did the cold air and even colder rain really cover you entirely did the world come rushing back. 
You leaned your head forward, closing your eyes as your chest heaved to catch your breathe. The time of year and the rain made your hands stiff with a brisk coolness that shouldn’t have felt good. But you didn’t really care. You found yourself sliding down the length of the tree trunk, and sat with your knees bent in front of you. 
With a thonk, your head fell back to rest on the bark. The water soaked the bandage on your arm and you figured it didn’t really matter. It was rain water, nothing dirty or festering with bacteria to make it worse, so you left it uncovered. 
For a while you sat there, arm hovering beside you as you stared into the red. You had never felt this way from killing before, not for killing a man who tried to kill you first. What Joel told you meant nothing. Just something to calm you down enough to shut up and go back to sleep. He didn’t want to carry your issues and he shouldn’t, anyways. 
Being back on your own felt daunting. A knowing silence that you long forgotten over just months, creeping back to mock you with it’s isolation. You had little understanding of how a relationship was even supposed to work. 
Every step of the way with Joel you were guessing. You had hid your immunity from him, because you knew only conflict would follow and look what happened. It was unspoken even to yourself how you felt about Joel. 
Something you didn’t know or understand blossoming into a deep emotion that you did in fact have a name for, but a wonder if Joel would return it now was wrapping itself around your throat as it suffocated you to thinking he’d throw you out for who you were. 
The sky had grown more dim as the clouds moved on, yet the rain didn’t let up. Moving suddenly you pulled the lighter out of your pocket once more. This time you didn’t taunt yourself with the metallic clink of it’s open and close.  You turned it in your hand, eyes a blank vacant stare towards it. 
It meant nothing anymore. What happened that day happened, and it doesn’t matter if you hold onto it. Don’s still rotting on a wooden floor next to the corpses of creatures you couldn’t become, and you would always have to face that. Face that your own mortality was dependant on refusing to give it up for a rebel group to cut into looking for the answer to a question they don’t even understand. 
Your jaw clenching as you felt the digging of your teeth into your cheek, maybe that was the fate you deserved, just not one you wanted for the only other girl you’d ever known as also like you. 
Pushing up from the tree, you leaned forward enough to throw the lighter with a grunt. Watching it disappear into the treeline before your head fell into your arms now resting on your knees. 
“Not a bad throw for sitting down.” 
You damn near jumped out of your skin. Head whipping to the side to see Joel sitting beside you. The man was too sneaky for his own good sometimes. To the side of him, Ellie stood against another tree at a good enough angle to see both of you. 
“How the hell does a man your size get around without anyone noticing?” Joel didn’t laugh but it got a smirk out of Ellie. 
“I swear he uses it just to sneak up on me when I start slacking.” You both chuckled quietly at one another, their calm and cavalier attitude putting you at a strange ease without effort. 
The deep rumble of Joel’s voice sat snugly into your ear, “Let me see it.” 
Your head lulled to the side to watch as he gently grasped your arm, pulling the soaked wrappings away enough to inspect the slash. His face wasn’t in view but Ellie’s was. The sudden panic earlier now replaced with a stoic look you knew spoke volumes more than she wanted it too. Eyes squinting to see it without having the nerve to come closer. 
“Needs to be re wrapped now obviously, but it looks good.” The lack of a disappointment in his tone sent you right back into the ever annoying world of confusion. 
You wanted to bite back with tone, try and prove yourself, but exhaustion and defeat was all the muttered out. “Used to do it all the time when I travelled by myself. Good to know it’ll come in handy again now, I guess.” 
Joel didn’t let go of you but his grip tightened somewhat. “Like hell you’re going anywhere.” 
You tried yanking your arm out of his hand, but his strength was as stubborn as his personality. His name slipped out in protest, but he turned to look at you more direct, the view of Ellie side stepping to change her view in the corner of your eye. 
“Hey. I need you to sit here, and just listen to me.” Sensing a hesitation, he pulled you in closer with a furrowed brow and eyes burning into yours. “Just let me say what I need to say before anything else. Okay?” 
You nodded your head yes. His grip softened in your arm, and the feeling of this thumb trailing over your skin soothed the fading sting. 
“We’re not here to change your mind, but we want you to. Whether you can accept it or not, you’re family now. And a family protects the ones they love, period.” His fingers grazed your cheek enough to turn you more to face him. “You try to do everything to prove yourself at every goddamn turn, worried if you even say you need help that’s some sign of weakness. That’s just not the case, sweetheart. You’re allowed to need us, you should need us sometimes, because,” 
The half a second pause let Ellie finish his sentence. “Because we need you.” 
Fingers sliding from your cheek, Joel still held onto your arm gently as you looked up at Ellie, the stoic slipping down with the rainfall. There was a waver overpowering the noise of the slowing water. “You don’t get to just walk out, just leave us here because you don’t think we care. You just can’t do that.” 
She never spoke about this fear of abandonment that festers inside. Likely hardly knew it still existed after almost being dumped as Tommy’s problem when Joel got too scared of caring about her. Now it wasn’t just him she worried about walking out of her life. 
Shoulders sagging slightly as the tension washed off, your mouth parted as your eyes met ones threatening to cry. This time Joel let your arm go, as he watched your reach begin to reach them out to Ellie. Only to be thrown backward into the trunk once more as she lunged into your chest. 
The hug didn’t last long, but she squeezed with desperation, as you leaned your head into hers. Suddenly being pulled back at the gentle behest of Joel, “Watch her side.” 
He was now leaning forward, replacing your hands on her with his. One of his own softly cupping the side of her face with an intensity that only could be read as a reassurance. Wiping her eyes before looking at you, she swiped some excess from her forehead in a thinly veiled act as if it was just the rain.
All three of you knew better. Ellie sat back on her heels, her emotional outburst not something she meant to explode on you with. You winced as you got up slightly on your knees to run your hand over her hair, you could feel Joel’s hands guiding you up, “Easy.” 
The grumpy almost glare on her face reminded you of the man next to you. Clearly that was a learned trait of hers, not a hereditary one. Sucking in a deep breathe, you found it in yourself to stop being so afraid to just say what you felt. “I’ve done a lot of hard things to protect my own life over the years, a lot of shit that cost other people theirs. Some of it to get out of the most terrifying shit I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes peering over to you with a stark understanding. You knew about that day, the vivid description of fear Joel felt seeing her with that horrific expression and a face covered in blood. 
“But doing it because of what I am, when people who about it and only want your life for it, that’s a kind of guilt I don’t want for you. The kind of guilt I don’t understand and I don’t know if I ever will. But-” You took a deep breathe and moved to hold the other side of her face. “But you don’t deserve to do it, any of this, alone. And I’m sorry for trying to force you otherwise.” 
Ellie nodded, a little too much as she compensated for a stirring of emotion she tried to hold together. All she could get out as a question forcing as little upset as possible, “You’re coming home...right?” 
Honestly? It was sweet. Never once has she called your home anything but the place she shared with Joel. You may not know about the amount of times she debates with the man about getting him to just ask you to live there permanently, but you were beginning to feel the sentiment. “Yeah...I am. Can’t miss seeing how many more times you can possibly fail at guitar before you start learning anything, afterall.” 
There it was, with a roll of her eyes the toiling anxiety left her in favour of a huffing annoyance. Pushing up onto her feet she mumbled, “Everyone’s got something to say don’t they?” 
You and Joel joined her, his arms supporting you as you stood trying not to let a hiss come out with the wince from your side. Before you could start to follow, Joel stepped in front of you with a hand still on your waist. “Wait here a minute, will you?” 
You nodded, and watched him pull Ellie over to the side in a conversation to quiet to hear even in the slowing rainfall. Your eyes distracted themselves with the dark leaves now encased in water with your arms wrapped around your front. Relationships confused you. 
Speaking of which, you were turned around to face Joel his hand on your hip and the other tilting your chin up to his height. Just as you expected, he didn’t beat around the bush. Just skipping straight to the point. “Anytime something’s almost happened to you, I can barley manage to do anything before you end it all yourself.” Deep brown eyes deep into yours. 
“It doesn’t exactly feel that way.” Hands without your permission, begin to find their way onto him. Not brave enough to settle anywhere you typically loved to hold, but palms lightly resting close to his stomach. 
Joel shook his head, eyes bright still and a half smirk forming before he pulled your chin close and captured your lips with his. Pulling you in by your hip he deepened the kiss with a trace of his tongue exploring your mouth. Separating you just as you yearned to reciprocate. 
Giving a full smile nearing adoration at the sight of your still closed eyes before you regained your senses. “You sure you don’t need glasses?” Your eyebrows raised in a total confused look and he only chuckled in response at it. “Because you are so fucking blind sometimes.” 
The warmth in your heart eased from painful to much more relaxing. “I’m still not used to this.” Your hands now closer to a usual spot near his collarbones. “Felling like I depend on someone they way I do you. Worried it makes me just a burden on top of everything you got.” 
Kissing your nose, Joel leans in as his mouth teases yours as his words brush against them. “Good. I want you to depend on me sometimes, sweetheart. I sure as hell depend on you. Ellie had to be the one to calm me down when I walked in and saw some blood on the floor and the knife. I damn well knew wasn’t hers.” 
His fingers left your chin and pulled you in by the back of your head, this time pulling your hips so your front pressed into his as much as it could before pulling away just as quick. Resting his forehead to yours. “We’re family. We depend on each other, and don’t think for a second I think less of you because you need me sometimes. I’d sure as hell need you if you left.”
Shaking his head he kissed you once more just as you tried to let out an apology, and pulled away just enough “Don’t be.” Before resuming the kiss. 
As easy it was for you to fall into his touch, Joel was just as weak. Your lips holding love instead of a panicked urgency the other night, your arms winding around his neck to rake gently through the hair you could reach. 
He didn’t really think about it much as he moved you backwards until your back was pushed up against a tree. The collide against the surface sparked something inside him. It wasn’t the time nor the place for this, but too much had happened. It wasn’t just your head that was storming with difficult, painful emotions.
His kiss all consuming, tongue demanding he explore yours as much as he raved, and only pulling way to bite at your lips before starting the process all over again. You had put him through enough, but maybe he deserved a different kind of apology than being left behind. 
The second your hands reached the top of his jeans, a needy groan fell from his lips as he changed directions to your neck. His teeth marking it up and down as he soothed each one with a kiss and brush of his tongue. The gentleness doing little good as his ravenous urge to mark you up also traced your skin with his facial hair, leaving a redness on his the harder he bit. 
He mumbled into your neck as he felt you undoing his belt, “Fuck, sweetheart, you don’t-”  only to be cut off with a moan as you kissed your way up to his ear trailing a path along his neck as well. 
“Let me take care of you. For once.” Before kissing the skin just under his ear as you undid the zipper. He leaned into your body as his grip on you no doubt would brighten the fingertip shaped bruises he already left before. 
Tugging his jeans just down enough to reach your hand inside your palm brushed against the coarse hair above his cock. Joel captured your lips once more with a bite right off the bat. Grinding his hips forward as you teased your way down with your fingers along the length of his cock. You didn’t have much room, so you traced the thick length down, down, down until you found his tip, stroking over it with a feather like touch. 
Joel knew you didn’t have enough room and separated from your lips. Eyes blasting dark and lustful, he raked his eyes up and down your body before snatching your hands, fingers joined together and raised them above your head. “You going to be good?” 
A nod was all he needed, to undo your own pants and yank them halfway down your thighs with one strong tug. Hardly giving himself the pleasure of looking at your bareness, he pushed himself back into you as kissed you. Wasting no time as his hand roughly cupped and squeezed your mound. 
Smirking at your gasp, the fingers just reaching your entrance teased dipping in before caressing just around where he wanted. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit roughly until the sensitive bundle had you trembling against him. 
When he could take his time with you, Joel would take however long he desired to work you over, open you up and ease you into everything. But now, the warmth and growing wetness made him impatient. In one go he thrusted two thick fingers inside of you, eliciting a gasp of his name as your arms fell down to his shoulders, fisting the fabric there with no remorse for his earlier command. 
One of his hands reached for your throat, not restricting it, not even encompassing it, just holding the side of your throat firmly to rub his thumb over the length down to the top of your chest and back up. “Can never fucking listen to me, why do you make me do this, baby?” 
His only punishment though, was to thrust into you in tandem with the grinding of his palm into your clit. His fingers seeking the golden spot inside of you and smiling against your skin when you moaned out, hips writhing into his hand. Punishments to Joel meant nothing more than overwhelming you with pleasure.
The coiling in your stomach grew with how wet his thick fingers made you as they slid in and out. The sound of it even heard over the existing rain. But you wanted to make him feel good first, so you’d just have to disobey him a little more to treat him to it. Your hands on his shoulders moved to quick for him to catch it, grabbing at his jeans and pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. 
One hand jumped right in, gathering what was already spilling from his tip and stroking it up and down his length, the other sneaking just a bit more and gently cupping his balls. It was Joel who writhed this time, “Fuck, you-” 
You stopped him with a kiss, pulling back just slightly as your hand slid up and down his length slowly, knowing how much it made his cock buzz with need, the other ever so slightly keeping his balls in your hand as you pulled your head back to lean against the tree. “This is supposed to be about you, let me help you, okay?” 
His jaw clenched as one hand left him, the other now just holding his cock firmly as you dragged his hand slowly away from you, letting the wetness on his fingers trail up your chest, holding it just above your tits and your other pulling his cock just enough between your legs. 
Not letting him in, but between your thighs. His eyes weren’t weak or even a hint of willing to give you control, but he still let you tease him just for now. Dragging his cock just enough to not slide inside you, but coating him with you. 
His head looking down to your hold, seeing his cock shining more as it was dragged between your wet folds. Only pulling it away enough to press his hip up against your clit as you continued to stroke his cock. Much easier now, the wet sound almost matching up to what he pulled from you. Only granting you his length, Joel moved a hand to reach behind and grasp your ass tight, and pulling your hips in more, forcing your clit to press up against the tip of his cock. 
His hold on your ass let him lift you onto your toes and increase the pressure on your clit and the whimpers that followed were music. Never really giving you control, he pushed his tip into you and pulled back. Never leaving your clit but easing and increasing the pressure against it. 
You wanted to focus on stroking his cock, but his other hand on your ass took control. The sensation of his fingers tapping along to the middle, and dragging down before stopping just against where he knows no one has ever touched you. 
You gasped his name, but he grinded himself into you more. “Shhh, I got you, sweet girl. You’re okay.” Not quite touching, but hovering over it until you felt you nod against him. “Out loud, baby, please.” Not a demand, but a soft beg of permission. 
You nodded with your words this time, “Anything, fuck, anything you want, please just-fuck”, his other hand had overtaken his cock, pressing yours against his hip beside as he dragged his cock from your clit down to your entrance, and back up to continue rubbing it against you, and then dragging back down to slick his cock up more. 
If you asked him later, Joel couldn’t tell you what was consuming him right now. He had almost lost you, and how you had the audacity to think he wanted you to leave. It made him almost angry. A burning sensation spreading from his chest all through his limbs. It was something akin to possessive, and he wanted to be easier on you. Ease you into something Joel hadn’t even thought about doing until this very moment. But it was the only thought he could focus on that wouldn’t send him back to memories of blood. So he lost himself in something he didn’t quite understand.
He was gentle behind you, very gentle. A tiny whimper leaving you as his index finger just rested against you, giving the same tiny rubs that he rubbed his tip into your clit with. Your body slightly tense, he only wanted you to feel relaxed. So he kissed you once more, not sparing any time as he opened your mouth up to let him in, keeping you only focused on his touch.
You gasped into his mouth, but Joel recognized that needy pleasure without failure. Joel never pushed his fingers inside, just pressed against you with occasional gentle caresses of the skin around it as if he needed to feel how much you leaned your body into him, or the sounds the teasing pulled from you. Your hands on him dragged all over but you whimpered in need, his name, and a please for more. 
His cock now sat heavy against your entrance, threatening to push in if he pulled back enough. But his other hand kept a slow rub. He knew your body scarily well, knowing that if he stopped or slowed too much, that you’d tense up on him, always just on the edge of nervous if he pushed you just a little more. 
Always afraid you’d disappoint him somehow no matter how much it frustrated Joel that you couldn’t stop thinking that.
His touch slid back and forth from teasing just outside of you, to a soft knead of the rest of your ass or hip. Not tight, not aggressive, almost soothing. For you, it enough that you leaned forward into his chest, head on his shoulder with one hand raking through his hair. His cock dragged back a bit, and he eased the tip of his cock barley inside you. “Look at me, sweet girl.” 
You expected him to be cool and collected, but he was anything but. His eyes dark and blazing with need, his mouth parted sightly and breathing heavy enough you felt it on your cheek. “This-” The stoke pulled a difficult gasp from you, but it was so much, too much but you didn’t want him to stop. You’d beg for more if you thought he’d give it to you but you still tried to explain yourself. “I wanted to make you feel good.” 
His teeth clenched as he lid just an inch more of his cock into you, his pace slow as he treasured how well you fit him. “This right here,” once again raking his eyes down you and back up. “You make me feel good.” 
Just as his cock slid inside you with a soaked ease, your arms wrapped around his neck as he swore out himself. His cock was always so thick, and it filled you so deeply, but something about this moment weighed on your heart much heavier than ever before. 
Joel dragged his cock in and out of you so much that he threatened to slip out every time, his finger no longer teasing your ass, but keeping himself his large hand splayed over the skin of your cheeks he could reach. 
The slower pace didn’t pick up, but when he was as deep he could be inside you, Joel would pull out of you less and less. You pulled both sides of his face into you to kiss him. 
It was just as deep as everything else he was inside of you, but not fast, not aggressive. He tasted your mouth just as slowly and intimately as his cock slid in and out of your warm walls. His thrusts never sped up, and you never asked him too. 
Neither of you kept track how long he has you pressed up against the tree, but it was long enough that the sky turned darker as the sun started to go down and the rain had stopped all together. 
Joel’s slow pace dragging right up against your walls, and the every present pressure of his finger deep inside of you, your orgasm built slower this time, but it made your body tingle so much more and you felt desperate at that point. 
“Let me have it sweet girl, I want it baby, fuck I want it, you’re so close,” You clenched against his cock and his name fell from your lips, your walls tight around the thick length, your entire body arched in pleasure as he slowly thrusted still, never stopping just sliding in and out of you to drag you along as much as possible. Everything inside of you bursting at once, all you could do was hold on to him.
His hold on your ass and hip tightened, his pace increased as he chased his own orgasm. The feeling of you in such an overwhelming way took over him as he sped up every thrust until he pace had his skin slapped more steady against yours. The sound of your skin against his mixed with the how much he could hear how wet you were around his cock kept his pace faster. Every thrust bringing the sounds to his ears and it didn’t take long until he lost himself. 
His teeth clenched and your nails raking through his hair, he pounded a few quick thrusts into you as his orgasm let go with your sweet voice in his ear, and your other hand reaching down to grasp one of his own ass cheeks, just enough to push his hips to sink into you faster. 
He fucked you at that pace as he came. He couldn’t not. Last night and now were the only times he’s ever came inside of you and Joel couldn’t tell you why. There was a feral part of his brain that became possessed at how well you let him fuck you. He thought he should have felt bad. He wasn’t actually a possessive man, but there was an unspoken intensity that overrode a part of his brain and left a desperation in it’s wake.
He spilled into you, more and more cum leaving as he kept fucking up into you needing that feeling those sounds as now the wetness mixed with his cum. You moved your hand up to his waist with gentle squeezes as he finally slowed down almost instantly. 
Panting, he looked to where he slid in and out of you, seeing with each pull how absolutely coated his cock was. Glistening from you, and covered white with his own cum and slowly pushed it back into you a few times before he stopped. 
You gently pressed your lips against his, everything about you felt weak now, but your sanity felt tied to his touch. Joel slowly eased out of you completely, having to look up at your face instead of his cum soaked cock. The tip of his nose rubbed along yours and each of you reached for each other. You tucking him back and doing his jeans and belt back up as he pulled your pants back and rubbed at the skin of your hips he could see from your raised shirt. 
Neither of you could say it yet, today was too much, this entire week had been too much. But Joel wasn’t in any doubt. “We work together from now on, you’ve got me, and I’ve got you. That’s all there is too it, sweetheart.” 
Maybe it’d get easier with time, your brain was quieter then it had been since a week ago that day, and put the pain at ease, filled only with here and now, and who you have. Guess Joel and Ellie weren’t about to let you go anytime soon, so you’d just have to repay the favour. 
You had plenty to work on but you at least had a new flicker of hope that having what could be a family might make it easier to do. You decided not to think about what Ellie didn’t know. Only time would get them there, and at least he had you. 
Joel knew he couldn’t keep it from her forever, not did he want to. Maybe in another universe he’d keep it so long she’d find out on her own, and that would tear her away from him more then Joel could bare, but he had you, and you understood not just how he felt about it, but you knew exactly how she felt about it too.
You all had each other and maybe he could make it through when that day comes together. 
Ellie was his daughter now, and you helped remind him of how much that means to him. He had been holding back for a while not to say it to you. 
It damn near slipped from his mouth the second he lost himself as you came around him. But it wasn’t time, the words meant everything to him, but he suspected they weren’t something anyone has ever said to you in your life. Even before hand, knowing enough about your previous life only made him more careful. Not to say it too fast or at the wrong moment, and to make sure you felt safe and belonging in this family you were all creating together. 
As you both made your way back, Joel stopped in place at one point, grabbing you by the hip and turning you to him. He rubbed right below your side as his heart melted at the softest you have looked in days. “You know....right?” 
Maybe Joel was along the same lines as you, you realized. Your shoulders rose as you took a deep breathe, taking a step forward. Your hand rubbing along the scruff on his cheek as you gave a tiny chaste kiss, only giving him a nod. 
That’s all that was needed for right now. He knew this turmoil inside of you wasn’t gone, but maybe now you’d let him support you in whatever way he could. He knew all to well what letting that pain build up for too long could do to you. It wasn’t something he wanted for anyone.
Joel smiled, and wrapped an arm around you, turning you forward once again to go home. Gracing the top of your head with a kiss, there was another burning question he just couldn’t stop in time from slipping out. “If I ask you to just hurry up and move in already, is that gonna be too much for one day?” 
This time you stopped in your tracks, but only long enough to drop your head in a breathe that turned into a laugh. You leaned into his touch. “I’ve got nothing left at my house that I need. Would be a pain to make you bring it all back there now, wouldn’t it?” 
“Why would I be the one having to do all the work?” The smirk on your lips all he got back.
You didn’t need to look at him to see his face flat and his eyes roll on cue. “Still got a long way to go with that attitude don’t we?” What you also didn’t need to see to know about was the double meaning to his words. This was more than just about teasing, or the physical part. What happened that day and now meant something more than just a few minor incidents to all three of you.
You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen Joel today the way he was, but maybe it was your fault for letting it build up to this. You knew it wasn’t just Joel pushing your limits for the sake of it. No, tonight was something new for both of you in a much more desperate emotional way. Like he needed you as close as possible and he worked you weak enough to let him. 
Sex wasn’t casual for you, and you were lucky Joel didn’t treat it as such. You didn’t know what to say a lot of the time, but he could read your touch like a book and you hoped he knew it was the same for you. Today wasn’t the right time or place, but it was the only thing that grounded you and Joel to the present in almost a week.
It was easier to express things through touch with him sometimes because of that. You both can struggle to open up, and almost losing you, only to have to sit back and watch not knowing how you would wake up. You can’t imagine what that felt like for him, and you’re not sure you want to. 
Having something akin to family was unusual, and would take some getting used to going forward. The pain, the memories, the demons toiling in you were still there. This feeling wasn’t going to go away, but maybe now it wouldn’t destroy you for it. 
Joel made it clear you can rely on him to be there for you, and you had a feeling he was going to need you in just a matter of time. He’s strong on his own, but you can only handle so much on the inside. 
Neither of you knew though, exactly what about that past day would come looking for him. 
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specialagentlokitty · 5 months
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Elrond x teen!reader - safe with us
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Hiii! I haven't been active in so longgg it's painful to think about BUTTT I'm here with like some many ideas for requests!!! Could you maybe write an parental elrond x human child (if it's fem I would appreciate it!) in WICH reader was traveling with their fam but got attacked by orcs or sumting and she was told to run, she either a) stumbled upon a patrol of Rivendell or b) something else that led her to Rivendell and can we see soft elrond with her, better yet soft ELVES with her AWWWWWWWWWWW how CUTEEE (ignoring the whole slaughter part ofc) Like she's basically adopted by all the elves of Rivendell. - @hai-kbai 💜
You had been running for god knows how long, your legs hurt, and you were tired, and hurting from the numerous falls you had taken.
But you felt like you couldn’t stop running, you were scared if you stopped then they would find you, that they would get you as well.
So you kept going, right up until you ran into a small group of what appeared to be maybe guards or warriors.
They all looked at you and you screamed, scrambling to hide between some rocks that you could only just fit between.
You heard some quiet talking, and slowly somebody came over.
“Please do not be scared, we mean you no harm. Are you lost?”
You said nothing, and the elf nodded slightly, rummaging through his bag before holding something out to you.
“Hungry perhaps? it’s good. One small bite will fill you.”
You refused to take the food and he sighed, putting it away as he began to talk to him comrades.
While they were talking, you stayed hidden up until the point you heard a noise that sounded a lot like orcs.
Rushing out from your hiding spot, you ran to the elf and stood in front of him, hiding yourself in the group.
“We must go.”
They all got on their horses and the one you had hid behind helped you on to his horses before climbing on and rushing away.
You didn’t want to go with them, but between orcs and elves, they were the safest option.
They had horses and would be faster.
Exhaustion soon took over you, and you fell asleep.
Of course the elf behind you knew you were asleep, but he made no motion to wake you up, neither did the others.
They just carried on their journey back to Rivendell where the sounds of movement made you wake up.
You snapped your head up and looked around, jumping down from the horse and backing away in fear.
“You appear to have brought a guest.”
“We found her alone and scared.” The man replied.
The other elf nodded.
You carefully studied him, he had a friendly face, with a small smile as he looked at you, and he was wearing the most elegant clothes you had ever seen.
“I am Lord Elrond, of Rivendell. Do you have a name?”
You said nothing.
“You’re scared, I understand. But you needn’t be afraid, we mean you no harm, we wish to help you if you will let us.”
You glanced around, and you turned back to him.
“How about a bath, some food and a clean change of clothing?”
You slowly nodded your head.
So they got everything ready for you, and you bathed in peace, only letting out a small hiss as hot water touched the scratched and cuts in your skin.
When you were done you changed into the elegant Elyan clothing you were given, and began to wonder around.
Bare feet padding along the floor, you looked into other rooms, poking and looking at things as you passed.
“Hello, Lord Elrond has requested you to come have something to eat.”
You turned to face the new elf.
He smiled at you, bowing his head a little.
“I’m Lindir.”
He stood up.
“Will you come?”
You nodded and followed him to a grand dining hall, and he showed you a seat next to Elrond and you looked at the food in front of you.
“Whatever you want to eat, you can.”
You looked at him then back to the food, and you glanced at his plate as he ate his dinner.
He saw you looked and smiled to himself, taking your plate, he replaced it with his own, and set your plate in front of him.
You began to pick at the food he was eating, knowing that if he was eating it then it was fine for you to eat.
Elrond smiled softly at you.
“Do you mind if I have a look at your arm after? That looks rather deep and painful.”
You looked at your arm.
“What happened to it?” He asked.
“I fell…”
He nodded his head.
“I see, well, we all fall sometimes. It is nothing we can’t fix.”
Elrond could tell you had been through a lot, so he never pushed you into telling him what had happened.
They simply made you feel at home, with your own room, food you liked, they had even began to teach you their language and games.
Everybody loved you.
“Be care when you go.” Elrond said.
“I’ll be okay!”
You swatted his hands away and he smiled at you.
“I know, I just worry the young elves forget you are not as strong as they are.”
“I’m strong!” You huffed.
He sighed a little, nodding his head.
“I know, just go have fun. And be safe.”
You smiled at him.
“Thank you.”
With that you ran off, waving to everybody you had passed.
They all knew you by name now, the human who lived with elves.
They loved you, and you were part of Rivendell.
You brought them joy and adventures and just the right amount of mischief to make any boring day a little better.
You were still healing over whatever had happened to your family and Elrond could see that in the nights you didn’t sleep, or the days you wouldn’t talk.
But he hoped maybe you could open yourself to Rivendell as your home and realise you never had to leave
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sayafics · 7 months
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Dance of Shadows - Chapter II
Thank you to everyone who showed so much love to Chapter I and waited so patiently for this chapter! I do hope you enjoy it. Reading all your comments and seeing your likes and reblogs made me feel so appreciated, so thank you again!
This chapter will be very Daemon/Saenyra focused, but please presume everything else happens as normal <3
This is quite a long chapter, but I hope it's worth the read!
Next Chapter
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Masterlist
The crowd roared in unison, a crashing wave of victory and excitement rolled through the tourney grounds as the people of King's Landing yelled in celebration - the tourney has begun, and so has Queen Aemma's labours.
Saenyra's father held the tourney in honour of her maybe-brother that was itching and turning to leave her mother's womb.
She wanted to be by her mother's side, to hold her hand, and ground her during the pains of bearing a child.
But Viserys had promised the girl Aemma would be fine, that it was of more importance she was to attend the tourney. As that was where her duty required her to be - an ornament, a prize placed at the forefront of a bloodied battle for men to lust for, soldiers to grovel for, and Lords to prepare bounties in exchange for.
Of course he had not said so directly to her, even his words, so gentle and kind, were not her's to listen to. Yet they were a silent command to follow.
Viserys had spoken the words to Rhaenyra, Saenyra had simply been there and nodded like the obedient child she was and obeyed an order they did not feel the need to grace her with.
In the back of her mind, Saenyra knew if her absence did not draw up the suspicions and whispers of the people, then her father would have paid no mind. Rhaenyra is heir, if not to the throne, then to Dragonstone.
She was simply a princess, with no power tied to her name nor land for her to cherish. All that came to her - all that would be her own, would first belong to the man her father asked her to marry. And, some nights, Saenyra feared she would not be able to deny her father's wishes, because she had always seen her father's words to her as they truly were - commands of a King, not the gentle whispers of a loving father.
The tourney had begun, and Saenyra sat next to her sister as she gazed upon the grounds, suppressing a flinch as she watched the men collide into each other with a violent crack. The sound was enough to snap her out of her reverie, realising she had already missed the introductions and did not know who was competing. She sat straighter, spine stiffening as she rolled her shoulders - it would not be good if the Lords and Ladies were to catch her ill-attention, cursing it as a lack of manners and a mockery to the Court.
She paid no mind to Alicent's and Rhaenyra's incessant whispers, knowing their words were not for her and to include herself would only lead to them drawing back until she stopped. So she sat, quiet and proper, eyes flitting over the game in front of her in feigned interest.
The man who had fallen was Ser Gwayne Hightower of Old Town, Alicent's brother. Saenyra remembers him well, recalls the whispers that Otto Hightower had proposed a marriage between his eldest son and one of Viserys' daughters, but it was Aemma who denied the match. She did not think it a coincidence when she had ran into the man the following evening in the library, and she was bound in suspicion when he offered to walk her back to her chambers.
To this day, Saenyra finds herself grateful that Ser Harwin Strong had found her in those moments, and she was gladdened to hear him offer to escort her back in his stead. Ser Harwin was a dangerous man, but he was also loyal to the crown and would do her no harm.
Ser Gwayne Hightower was his father's child, and Saenyra, despite all her years sharing the castle with him, had never known Otto Hightower enough to trust him.
She watched how Alicent held her breath as the armoured man knocked Gawyne off his horse with brutal ease. Ser Hightower conceded, and the man dressed in an armour of dark grey and riddled with red as dark as rubies cheered in victory.
Saenyra's eyes traced over the armoured man, following every curve and line that decorated the fine metal-work. She noticed him draw closer, and at his proximity Rhaenyra leapt up from her seat.
Rhaenyra exuded a familiar scent of childish glee at the sight of the man, and it was only then that realisation sunk in as gentle lavendar hues met the molten colour of vicious violet.
This was Daemon, dressed in armour fit for a dragon, so unlike the one she had seen him only before. He stood now, clean and shining. His eyes were bright, glowing with the fire of a new battle, his expression seemed eased, and Saenyra knew the tourney was nothing like the bloodbaths Daemon loved to seek.
"Nicely done, Uncle."
Daemon's eyes flitted to Rhaenyra, squinting against the sun as a pleased smile crossed his face. Saenyra couldn't help the jealousy that festered under her skin, to see her sister once again preen under the attention of their uncle who seemed to care for one sister more than the other - just like her father, just like her mother, just like the Kingdom and probably, just like her brother too.
"Thank you, Princess."
Daemon's words were spoken with a lilt, and any passerby would have assumed the man was enamoured by the girl who stood in front of him - the Realm's Delight.
Instead, his eyes bounced from Rhaenyra to her friend standing loyally beside her, and his mouth parted, ready to ask a question.
It was at that moment a glint caught Daemon's eye, and his eyes darted back to the quiet girl who sat in the shadows of her sister's tall and domineering presence. It was at that moment he remembered a call for a promise and a whisper to wait until the time came to be.
Daemon could have used such a promise to bargain some leverage, to gain the upper hand, and receive power or triumph in turn. But, eyes roving over the girl who avidly avoided his boring stare, he found he did not want to wait and see if a different opportunity arises. Not when he could live in a whispered moment of his desires right now.
"Now I am fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent," Daemon watched how Rhaenyra's face fell as he addressed her friend instead of her, knowing what question lay on the tip of his tongue, and for a moment Daemon truly felt pity for the girl. "But having the favour of one so kind and gentle would all but assure it," he watched Alicent radiate a warmth of eagerness at his words, despite her attempts to stifle it in Rhaenyra's presence.
As a man who abhorred the existence of her father and his twisted words, Daemon could not help the thrill that wracked through him as he continued his words and watched the Hightower girl deflate.
"Would you send for my dearest niece? I have a question for her."
Alicent looked between Rhaenyra and her sister, pulling herself together as she deliberated her next course of action. Daemon raised a brow, and she nodded hesitantly in reply. She stepped backwards - once, twice. As though she was waiting for Rhaenyra to stop her - she never did. So Alicent turned on her heels and walked ever so slowly towards Saenyra who determinedly looked towards her fumbling fingers and avoided the eyes of her sister's friend, dread settling in the pit of her stomach at the sound of the approaching figure.
"Princess, your uncle calls to you."
Saenyra looked up with a frown, "what does my uncle want with me?"
Alicent looked over her shoulders for a moment, glacing at Rhaenyra's tense shoulders and Daemon's narrowed eyes - "I believe it is something you must ask him."
Saenyra regarded her with suspicion, eyes flitting over to see her uncle and sister locked in a bout of seething words. She found she did not want to approach, worried of what she may hear and what she may be asked.
Did Daemon want to ask for his favour now? Was it truly to do with Rhaenyra? Was that why she was so angry? Did Rhaenyra not want her to overhear what Daemon plans to ask of her?
Despite all the questions echoing in her mind like a deafening storm, she finds herself standing in a graceful manner and making her way to them with Alicent lurking a step or two behind.
When they approached the pair, Daemon and Rhaenyra were sharing a gaze heated by the fire of dragons - Rhaenyra glared at the man as though they had shared venomous words, despite them not being overheard by others.
Saenyra waited a few steps back, hesitance clouding her mind as she waited - hoping Daemon would call to her.
And he did.
"Saenyra," her name sounded so sweet, rolling off his tongue, his anger that flowed in steaming waves now seemed to lull in the air of her presence. "I have something to ask of you," a knowing look crossed his face, a sign that he was referring to their meeting by chance a few short days ago, and it was as though he knew she had not forgotten about it either.
Saenyra glanced towards her sister, but Rhaenyra simply avoided her gaze and stood with a passive expression painted along her face. Saenyra cleared her throat, her voice almost a whisper as she spoke, unsure of what to say, "of course, Uncle. What is it that you desire?"
She had stumbled over her words, cringing as she spoke faster than her mind had been able to think. But Daemon paid no mind, though his lip quirked with amusement as he thought of asking for her, then and there.
Alas, he knew he could do no such thing. So he commanded, an air of reverence in his words, "give me your favour."
His words were simple, so close to the words he truly wanted to say, but knew he could not with his brother's watchful eyes upon him.
Saenyra's cheeks heated at his words, but she did not miss how Rhaenyra's fingers tightened upon the railing, nor how her jaw twitched as she clenched it in irritation.
She almost said no, a part of her even wanted to - fearful of hurting her sister's feelings and possibly losing her in some way. But there was a selfish part of Saenyra, so young and wanting, that had craved for a moment such as this, where someone would ask for her in place of her sister. And she would truly be mad to deny this moment, regardless of how fleeting it came to be.
She bit her lip in feigned contemplation, and Daemon found himself growing warm in the confines of his armour at the sight. She glanced back at Daemon, unable to stop the teasing smile slipping onto her face as she leaned towards him over the railing - "only if you say please."
A flare of pure, unadulterated want radiated through Daemon at her words, and he found himself leaning towards her without a care for the watchful eyes of his audience - "please."
Despite all his savage glory, his plea was close to a whimper, and it seemed to ignite something in Saenyra he had never seen before. Her eyes glance to his lips before moving back, she pulled herself back with heated cheeks and laboured breaths as she clears her throat.
Saenyra turned to grab her wreath, only to find Rhaenyra stood infront of her with it in her grasp.
She stared at her sister for a few moments, unsure of what to do. It seemed even her father was not sure if he should intervene, and Otto simply watched with an interested gaze.
Rhaenyra held the wreath tight, her unrelenting grip causing the flowers beneath to crumble and give in. Saenyra glances back to Daemon's waiting figure, a shroud of determination settles in her as she regards Rhaenyra again, taking slow steps towards her before holding the wreath firmly and taking it from her grasp, she spares her sister a stiff nod - "thank you, Sister."
Rhaenyra doesn't move, nor acknowledge her. She simply waits to see if Saenyra would truly go ahead with this, and give Daemon what he seeks.
Saenyra walks towards Daemon, her steps much more sure and confident. She leans over the railing and gives him a shy smile. He returns it with his own - a broad and mischievous grin.
She reaches towards him to place the wreath, and just as the flowers brush the tip of his sword, he cants his horse to step back away from her as a glorious laugh escapes him. Saenyra can't help the way her heart flutters at the sound, but she rolls her eyes all the same - "Uncle."
Her words were drawn out in feigned annoyance, and he pulled himself back closer at the sound, waiting for her to reach out again before moving away.
"Ugh, Uncle. I swear to the Seven, I will simply take my seat again, and you can fight without my favour."
Daemon tuts, "we can not have that now, can we? Perhaps to make it easier, you can come onto the grounds?"
He raises his brow in challenge, so sure she would not heed. But a look over her shoulder, into the eyes of her raging sister, was all it took for her to move towards the stairs and duck under the arms of a cautious guard.
She ignored the calls of her father and his Hand, the indignant call of Rhaenyra and her friend. She stepped onto the grounds with a huffed breath, but her lips were stretched into a traiterous smile as she walked towards Daemon, who met her halfway.
Daemon unmounted his horse, leaving his joust on the ground as he moved towards her in slow, deliberate steps. He paid no mind to the baited silence of their audience nor the exasperated calls of the Court. He stood in front of her, his armoured boots brushing against the billowing skirt of her dress - a pale pink that stood brightly against the sun.
Saenyra held the wreath out towards him, a simple ring of flowers decorated in shades of blues and yellows - her favourite flowers, irises and begonias, formed into a colourful cluster.
Daemon reached out to accept it. His fingers, encased in his harsh and cold armoured gloves, brushed slowly over the petals to then skim the skin of her warm and delicate hands. Saenyra shivered, goose-flesh running up her arms as she repressed the tremble that silently wracked through her body. His touch paused as metal met metal, and his armoured fingers glided against a ring made of familiar steel.
A ring, so dark and grand, sat on the Princess' hand in place of where her future bethrothed's would. And it was made of Valyrian steel, a shared piece of ancestry.
Daemon admired how the ring looked upon her finger, how the blood-soaked jewel hammered into it radiated against her skin as though it was proud of its wearer and yearned to be showcased because of it.
A shared piece of him.
***
Daemon had avoided Saenyra after his trysts in Silk Street, unable to meet her eye or hear her voice without his mind flashing back to his escapade with Myseria, where all he could think about was Saenyra.
The lengths he would have gone to have her, or someone that simply looked like her.
His stomach would roll with nausea, and his mind was heavy with questions. He found himself needing to apologise with no true need except for the guilt that plagued his mind due to his traiterous fanatasies.
The night after his venture with Myseria, he found himself lazing away in his chambers as the sun fell into the arms of the night sky and the moon rose in its place.
Daemon found himself staring up at the ceiling, eyes tracing over every animate shadow and ears on alert for every step and whisper that sounded at his doors.
His heart beat at a calm pace, but every thud brought a sinking feeling of unease to settle in the confines of his chest. His mind began to wander, his thoughts flitting between images of his night with Myseria, to his gift to Rhaenyra, to walking into his little niece.
Daemon remembers how he struggled to force his gaze away from her bare neck - a princess of a Kingdom so grand and powerful, and yet her father would rather have the girl dressed as a commoner than royalty.
Daemon scoffed at the thought - oh, how he wanted to adorn her in jewels and diamonds, to weigh her heavy in the best of refineries so others would see just how much her beauty was worth. How much she is worth.
But he had already given Rhaenyra a necklace, and he wasn't blind to Saenyra's stares of sadness and envy. He knew to give her the same gift he gave Rhaenyra would be nothing short of an insult.
He would do no such thing.
He closed his eyes in frustration, his racing thoughts barely allowing him to catch a breath long enough to lull himself to sleep. He sat up stiffly, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed as he held his head in his hands.
A deep sigh escaped him, thumbs digging into his eyes as though he was forcing away the images of Saenyra - trying to forget her moonlit hair, her pale eyes, her murmured words and her hesitant breaths.
Daemon glanced towards the fireplace that now burned low, the heat had dampened down, and a cold chill filled the air. It was a feeling akin to flying Caraxes in the winter sky, a scathing feeling that somehow brought a warmth to him all the same.
His eyes rested upon his sword, which stood defiantly against the hearth. Dark Sister looked almost black in the shadows of a dying fire, the rain-guard glinting a violent gold against the blade.
Rhaenyra's necklace had been a piece of shared ancestry.
But Saenyra deserved something more. For all she had done to be a dutiful daughter, she had not shared the grace of being a true dragon despite the blood of one burning through her veins.
When she was younger, a hopeful child who was so sure her egg would hatch as she aged, Daemon had pitied the girl. Even now, his heart would clench in sympathy for her. But he could see how such a loss of an opportunity had strengthened her.
She was just as much of a dragon as he was, despite never having one to call her own. She was just not able to see it yet.
Daemon saw a fragment of his soul in hers. The part of him that yearned for his father's approval, his brother's love. The fraction of him who had ached and begged for a dragon before he made it his mission to tame his own.
Daemon had called for a blacksmith the next day before daylight had broken and offered a pouch of Gold Dragon coins with one hand and his Dark Sister with the other.
Daemon knew exactly what his sweet girl deserved - what she needed.
Saenyra was a dragon, through and through - she simply needed a reminder of such.
The blacksmith had returned before dark, standing nervously with trembling hands as he offered Daemon his sword with one hand and held forth a cotton bag in the other.
Daemon glanced over his sword, his eyes easily catching the part that did not belong. The pommel was the same gold as his rain-guard, but it seemed dainty in comparison. He longed to hold his sword and test it for deficiencies, but his eyes caught the ivory bag clenched tightly in the hands of the blacksmith.
Daemon laid out his hand, and the bag was placed upon it with hesitance. Daemon rolled his eyes at the man's slow movements and snatched the bag away, pulling the ties open and tipping its contents into the palm of his hand.
A bejewelled piece of metal fell with a light thump. The metal felt familiar, even though it had been melted and twisted into something he did not recognise.
The band was simple, engraved with vines and flowers that were so quaint yet so detailed. And fitted perfectly in its centre sat a timid, glowing jewel likened to a pool of congealed blood.
Daemon thought back to the necklace he gifted to Rhaenyra, how its jewels were a bright and lively red. A mockery of who Daemon pretended to be.
This jewel, this colour, this steel. It was a part of him - a reflection of who he was. It was admiration and bloodshed and protection all in one. It was a silent promise and a vicious outcry.
It was a gift, fit for a princess. Fit for Saenyra.
Daemon reached for his sword, turning it over to have a look at the pommel of his sword where Valyrian Steel had been replaced by something else - it was a worthwhile sacrifice, he thought. His hands fisted around the ring, relishing in the feel of it imprinting against his skin.
Daemon had walked through the Keep with the ring settled in the pocket of his chemise for days now, unable to bear the courage to face her in fear of what his desires may ask of him.
It was not until the day of the tourney that he found himself in front of the youngest Princess' chambers. He nodded in greeting to her guards, not waiting for them to announce his presence before he marched into her chambers - he could not risk allowing hesitance to cloud his decisions and walk away.
Daemon held his breath as he closed the doors behind him. Saenyra sat at her dresser, combing through her hair before the sound of Daemon's loud entry forced her eyes to meet his in the reflection.
She was still dressed in her sleeping gown, a sheer shade of pearl that hugged against her figure. Daemon roved his eyes over her by instinct, hungrily drinking in the sight of her whilst he could. Saenyra was not blind to his devouring stare, clearing her throat despite her skin flushing under his heated gaze - "Uncle, can I help you?"
Daemon's eyes met hers, and the desire that pooled in them began to wane as he pulled himself together into the semblance of a gentleman.
"Saenyra," there it was again, her name passing through his soft lips with a gentle caress, "I have something for you."
She raised a brow in question, turning to look over her shoulder at him instead, "and what would that be?"
Daemon did not speak further, he walked closer towards her before stopping at the foot of her bed. He sat cautiously, waiting to see if she would object and send him away, but the girl was much too curious to do such a thing.
He beckoned her forward, and she hesitated for a moment.
"Come."
His voice was firm, as though he knew she would obey without question, and as she stumbled to her feet, she had the fleeting realisation that she would do anything Daemon had asked. She would follow him to the ends of the world and more, if he so desired.
She stood in front of him, and still she felt so small despite the fact that he had to look up to her. Her hands fiddled with the ends of her gown, which brushed against her thighs lightly - the idea she was so exposed in front of her uncle sent a shiver down her spine.
Daemon forced himself to keep his eyes upon hers, to not disrespect his darling niece when she had so politely adhered to his wishes despite the burning temptation to drink in the sight of her bare legs only a hairs-breadth away.
If he leaned forward, he was sure he could run his lips against her bare skin, and his body heated at the thought of her trembling under his touch.
He shook himself from his thoughts, looking upon Saenyra with adoring eyes as one of his hands took hers. He tugged her gently, tempted to pull her onto his lap but knowing it was a move much too daring.
Instead, she fell neatly onto her knees between his parted legs, and Daemon had to hold back a groan. She eyed him with such trust, full of so much naivety and innocence he found himself intoxicated with the idea of corrupting her and taking her as his own.
But he couldn't.
Shouldn't.
"I have a gift for you."
His words were a gasped whisper, spoken only between their shared breath that she had almost missed it, becoming so distracted by his warmth - by his dragon fire.
She blinked slowly, as though she was confused, "for me?"
He smiled at her, kindly. Something so unlike Daemon that even he was struck with the oddity of their circumstances. Still, he nodded.
She frowned, "why?"
His head tilted in sympathy to see his niece so surprised by such an act - "why not? Anything for my favourite niece."
Her eyes widened in surprise, "I'm your favourite?"
He grinned, "who else could it possibly be?"
Her head became down-turned, "everyone knows you love Rhaenyra more."
Her words struck a cord in his heart, is that what she truly believed? "And yet it is you I brought a gift for."
She looked back up at him, her face dead-pan as she spoke, "that is because you already brought her one. This is probably something gifted out of guilt."
She was close to the truth, but not entirely. This was a gift out of guilt for his wreckless thoughts and violent desires, but it was also a token of his devotion. Not that his dear niece needed to know.
He shook his head in turn, "this is so much more."
His hand reached into the pocket of his chest, nimble fingers pulling out the jewel he held so close to his heart as he waited for this moment. Her lips parted at the sight of it, and Daemon was sure he saw unshed tears pool within her eyes.
"That's for me?"
"Just for you."
Her eyes flickered to meet his disbelief, painting her expression - "Daemon," she spoke his name as though it was natural to her, and it sang with melodic delight causing desire to curl in his chest and hum contentedly. "Daemon," she repeated, so sweetly and softly, "I can't accept this."
"Yes you can."
"It is too much. It would not be fair to accept such a prize with nothing given in return."
Mischief raided through his heart as though it was a second nature, it clashed with desire and became pronounced - "then take it in exchange for another promise. A bigger one," his voice dipped, lowering into a whisper, "a dangerous one."
Saenyra didn't let her gaze fall from his, she knew she should deny him and his gift. She should send him from her chambers and pretend nothing had happened, but to have him so close and to see him act so daring, to challenge her so openly - it sparked a burning fire within her, setting her dragon alight - "so, what is it that you want?"
Her words felt like an echo of the ones she had said to him only days ago.
"I guess you shall have to wait and see."
She couldn't help the shy smile that slipped across her face at his echoing words, nor the heated flush that painted her cheeks as she felt him take her hand and slip the ring onto her left hand. It sat snugly on the finger where her future bethrothed's ring would have sat. And a small part of Saenyra, the one so selfish and greedy, knew no other man would have been able to produce a perfect fit for her apart from Daemon.
Saenyra couldn't pull her eyes away from his, she watched as his eyes darkened under her curious gaze. His own glanced towards her lips that she bit anxiously, and a thumb came to brush across it softly as he pulled it out before she could abuse it further.
His thumb sat on the bed of her lip, and he kept her gaze with a new ferocity. She glanced to his now, watching how he wetted his lips under her watchful gaze as his head grew heady with desire.
A knock on the door, loud and harsh, startled her from his grasp. His hand was still outstretched towards her, and his eyes never left her, even as she stood and brushed the gown straight.
Ser Harwin entered the room, a curious gaze passed between the unusual pair, before he focused upon the simmering figure of Daemon Targaryen- "my Prince, the King calls for you. The tourney is to begin."
Daemon lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls himself to his feet, he walks towards Saenyra and pulls her focus back onto him. He holds the hand bejewelled with a piece of him and presses a longing kiss upon her knuckles - "I hope to see you on the grounds, Saenyra."
She did not get a chance to reply. He turned on his feet and walked out her chambers - not without sharing a sharp glare with Ser Harwin Strong.
After he had left, Saenyra shared a nervous smile with Ser Harwin before he prompted her to get ready as he would send the handmaids to help her. She nodded in agreement, returning to her dresser to brush through her hair, but throughout it all, she was unable to tear away her gaze from the fine ring that adorned her hand.
A flutter sang within her chest, and a traiterous smile and bubbling laugh escaped her as she thought of Daemon's glimmering eyes and bright smile.
***
Daemon had been knocked onto the grounds by Ser Criston Cole, the man was skilled in tourneys but Daemon was better - more experienced.
He launched from the grounds, demanding his sword before slashing and swinging against Criston's flail. He sent a frenzied attack that was oragnised yet doused with the fire of unbridled rage.
He admired the man's strength and his stubbornness, but Daemon was not one to lose.
He had knocked Criston to the ground, Daemon's shield had been shattered to splinters, but he swung his sword with ease, his golden pommel a shining beacon for the girl who owned the original piece.
He turned towards the audience, towards her - cheering and celebrating. He searched for the missing part of his sword in the victorious cries of the Court, in their waving arms and broad smiles. His sword usually felt light in his hand, as though it was an extension of him, but the longer he struggled to seek her out, the heavier it felt.
She had left the tourney before he had even succeeded, she had not waited to celebrate his victory, she had not shared a parting goodbye or stayed for a boisterous celebration.
And with her, she had taken her favour.
Daemon had let his guard down, and Criston had taken advantage of his wavering heart and beat him to the ground whilst his back was turned - the act of a coward, but the rise of a victor.
Daemon yielded.
His eyes closed in frustration as his mind flooded with flashes of her once more - why had she left?
***
Within the walls of the Keep, Queen Aemma's cries sounded loudly. Saenyra had wanted to comfort her mother, but they tore her apart before she could reach her.
They let her mother cry and scream and beg until her last dying breath. And the babe followed shortly after.
Perhaps her mother did not care for her as much as she did Rhaenyra, but Aemma was her mother.
Perhaps the babe would have preferred his eldest sister, the dragon-rider, to his other sister, the timid. But Baelon was her brother.
She had gained the affection of her uncle, but lost her mother and her brother as consequence.
Saenyra felt as though her body revolted in the shadows of a dark and humourous curse, one that took and took and gave so little.
Saenyra stared at the ring Daemon placed upon her finger, her eyes were blank and her face was streaked with tears, her breaths were coming out short and panicked and she tried her best to avoid her mother's gasping breaths, her pleas for a daughter who was absent and not the one who was present, her last tear and her father's wails.
She stared at the ring, and a piece of her - the growing envious beast within - wished she had never accepted the token, believing if she did not, she would still have the half-love of a mother and the possible love of a brother, in place of a displaced infatuation of an uncle.
She wanted Daemon, but she was not sure how.
She wanted Daemon, but she wanted her mother more.
I honestly loved writing this chapter, it was like the words just flowed. I really do hope you guys like it! Please comment, like, and reblog! Every single one is so greatly appreciated <33
I have so many ideas for the next few chapters, I can't wait!!
Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta @pet1t3
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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year
Text
His sunflower
Harwin Strong x f!reader
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summary: you think about the time you met your husband 
warnings: SMUT (oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie,cock warming), reader is pregnant, fluff
word count: 5.4k (yeah idk how that happened either)
A/N: this man deserved the world. I will never forgive how they killed him off. Also in this fic Harwin is not the father of neiher Lucerys, Jacaerys or Joffrey. English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes in advance!
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He was beautiful like this. When he was asleep he looked…at peace. So handsome…soft dared you say. Nothing like the Ser ‘Breakbones’ everyone gossiped about when he passed by them.
And you liked him like this the most. When there were only the two of you. No prying eyes watching. You remember the first time you met. You knew who he was. Man that big and handsome could only be the one and only Ser Harwin Strong.
You were princess Rhaenyra’s closest lady-in-waiting. The two of you practically inseparable, even more so after the death of her mother. Where Rhaenyra went, you followed. So it was no surprise when you returned with her from the woods. The big boar she killed dragged by the horses, you hot on her heels. Every onlooker whispering and looking at the princess in disgust. It was not very ladylike to be covered in blood. Or to kill. That is true. But you admired your dear princess. She was untamable. Spoke her mind and fierce. But still acted like a true Lady when needed. And it seemed you were not the only one who admired her. And you also weren’t the only one who noticed the smitten look thrown her way by the good-looking lord. As she made eye contact with him a smirk played on his face and she averted her head quickly a small blush creeping on her face that was covered in blood.
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Later that day you went for a little walk. Rhaenyra was scolded by her father for how reckless she was. How dangerous it was for her to leave. Not only putting herself in harm's way but also you. He dismissed you for the rest of the day. Said Rhaenyra needed to think about her actions and you would only distract her or worse…you two would find yourself in trouble again. You threw your princess a sympathetic look on which she only rolled her eyes as if she was saying ‘if my father thinks separating us will leave me more obedient then he is sorely mistaken. She shooed you off after that. And even though you loved your princess dearly you had to admit a little time for yourself was nice.
You slipped out of the camp. Today was a beautiful day but it was too hot even though soon enough the sun would set. You knew there was a creek nearby as you were passing it before. Maybe you could cool off and find some pretty flowers for Rhaenyra. You loved braiding her hair and putting flowers into it. The purple ones especially. They brang out her violet eyes. She looked even more ethereal that way. As you admired the nearby nature you quickly found yourself in your desired destination.
You took your boots off and lifted the skirts of your dress. The water was cool and pleasant on your aching feet. As you crouched to get a sip of the water you heard a few twigs snap but you paid it no mind. You spooned handful of the water and brang it towards the nape of your neck. Your skirts were getting wet but you did not mind, you could always change after returning to the camp. And then you heard a male voice say:
“I do not think it is safe for Lady to be all alone in the woods at this time.” a rich deep voice reached your ears. You turned. It was him. None other than Ser Harwin Strong. You quirked an eyebrow.
“I do not recall me asking what you think, my Lord.” Yes, spending all your time with the princess left you rather with an attitude yourself. He barked a laugh at your comment. An amused smirk made its way across his lips.
“I do not think we formally introduced yet. My name is Harwin Strong, my Lady. And what might yours be if you do not mind me asking?” he came closer to the creek you were currently standing in. Offering you a hand. You took it gracefully. They enveloped yours entirely. Harsh and worn off from the years of practicing with a sword,  you assumed. But they were hot as if fire was running through him.
“Not important, my Lord. All you need to know is that I am princess Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting. Just letting you know so you won’t get on my bad side considering how smitten you looked with her this morning.” you stated boldly. He never met any Lady like you before. You spoke your mind freely. Without considering the consequences. He found it foolish but also quite refreshing. However, he did not give you the satisfaction of sharing his mind on what he thought about princess Rhaenyra.
“Lady wearing boots?” he quirked an eyebrow as he watched your ministrations of trying to put them on with your wet feet. You huffed.
“Yes, I find them more comfortable than slippers. You cannot see them under the skirts anyways.” you straightened as you finally put them on.
“Did you ever wear them to court?” he asked, his tone playful and curious. Mirth danced in his eyes. He found you…endearing. You smiled sheepishly.
“Yes, a few times.” and then he barked a laugh. You looked at him curiously. His curls were unruly even when he had them tied back. A wide smile adorned his lips. He towered over you. But surprisingly you did not feel threatened by him and his reputation even when you did not know him at all.
“If you will allow me, my Lady, I would like to escort you back to camp. It is not safe here and the sun is setting slowly. By the time we reach the camp, it will be dark.” you considered his offer. You knew the way back to camp so you did not fear you would get lost. But he was right. Maybe it was truly not that safe here when the sun would set.
“I would appreciate some company. But I would like to pick up some flowers for the princess too. The place where they grow is not too far away from here. If it would not trouble you too much we could pick some together. If not I will have to decline your offer and walk back to camp alone.” Strong-willed thing aren't you?
“I do not mind, my Lady.” And so you started walking side by side. A comfortable silence falls between you two.
Seeing him delicately picking up the flowers and handing them to you was certainly a sight to behold. How come somebody with the reputation of breaking bones could also be so…graceful?
Walk to camp passed more quickly than you thought it would. He asked you questions about yourself. Which most of you did not answer. But he did not mind. It almost seemed he enjoyed it. And as you near the princess’s tent where you were staying too he suddenly asked you: “What is your favorite flower?” And this time you did answer him.
“Sunflower.” he grabbed one of the violet flowers from your hands and put it in your hair, smiling a little.
“It seems they suit not only princess Rhaenyra but you too, sunflower.” with that he turned and walked away from you. The touch of his hand still lingering on your skin and the nickname he gave you seared into your mind.
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Moons passed since your last encounter with the curly-haired lord. You did not see him even though you knew he became captain of City Watch of King’s Landing. He became a distant memory. But you did keep the blue flower he put in your hair. It was safely put in between the pages of your favorite book you stole from the royal library. History of Dragons. You were enchanted by them. Rhaenyra said she would let you ride with her on Syrax one day but moons passed since that promise. Speaking of Rhaenyra.
“Princess you cannot fidget so much it must be perfect and it is almost done!” one of the handmaidens huffed in frustration while putting another small pin in her velvety white hair. Rhaenyra was about to wed Laenor Velaryon today and she had to look perfect. But you thought she always looked perfect.
“Please put me out of my misery!” she met your gaze in the mirror. You sweetly smiled at her. She was sitting in the chair for hours now and you knew she could not stay still for more than a few minutes so this was hard for her to endure.
“It is almost done, my princess. You will look exquisite.” you stood up and lightly squeezed her shoulder.
“You look exquisite now and did not need to spend hours in this god's forsaken chair!’’ she screamed in frustration.
“Princess!’’ You pretended to scold her but truly wanted to laugh. Not at her…misery as she put it but at her antics. “That might be true but I am not future heir to the Iron Throne and nor am I marrying today.” she hummed.
“Speaking of marriage how are things between you and your mysterious lover?” You almost choked at her question. That night Ser Harwin walked you to your tent, Rhaenyra saw the dreamy look on your face and the little flower placed in your hair. She did not question you back then. “Should I prepare my dear father that there will be another wedding ceremony held again soon?” You blushed slightly.
“Princess I do not know what are you speaking of.” you threw one look at the handmaiden that was now done with Rhaenyra’s hair as she listened to your conversation quietly. And then back at Rhaenyra. She understood and dismissed the handmaiden so no prying ears could listen to your private conversation. As the door behind her closed ‘Nyra quirked one eyebrow at you.
“First off he is not my lover-“
“Yet.” Rhaenyra giggled as she looked at your blushing face. You ignored her comment.
“As I was saying, he is not my lover nor do I think he will ever be. And it is Ser Harwin Strong that plagues my mind so. We talked only briefly and I have not seen him since but he was more than dreamy, my princess.” You smiled as you sat down and excitedly squeezed her hands in yours. “He is a fine man but I think his heart was captured by another.” Your smile faltered a bit. Rhaenyra looked at you curiously.
“And do you know who might it be?” a silence fell between the two of you. Should you answer her? After all, she was the one he surely was thinking of. Not you. But you thought of her more like a sister than your princess and you always told each other everything.
“You, my princess. I know you too noticed the look he gave you that day when we returned from the woods. He was smitten with you.”
Rhaenyra laughed at that. Could you be that blind?
“Well, I’ve heard certain Ser was asking about my lady-in-waiting not so long ago. Words travel fast but I see they did not reach your ears.” Could it be true? Your whole face lit up. Rhaenyra mirrored your excitement. If she could not find love at least maybe you could. She stood up from the chair and probed you to sit on it. She lightly squeezed your shoulders, her chin now resting on your right shoulder while she looked at you in the mirror. “I am certain Ser Harwin will not be able to tear his eyes off you. You are gorgeous. Now let’s go. I do believe I have somewhere to be and so do you.” She linked your arm with hers as she opened up the door to her chambers. Your heart beating wildly hoping a certain dark-haired man would make an appearance.
The ceremony was beautiful. The lovely couple made a fine match. It is true they did not love each other and probably never would as you heard rumors prince Laenor had a different taste, should you put it lightly, and Rhaenyra had eyes set on her uncle Daemon but you hoped for both of their sakes they would find common ground. As you watched Rhaenyra dance with her uncle you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You tried to look for the source but were unsuccessful and then you felt Rhaenyera’s hand enveloping yours, dragging you to dance with her.
After a while, you lost sight of her as many Lords twirled her around and asked her for a dance. Your feet started to ache and you felt breathless. It was true you did not remember the last time you had so much fun. But God,  the dress slippers were quite uncomfortable. You should have put on your boots. Who would have noticed anyways? You just wanted to sit and relieve your aching, maybe eat some more delicious desserts you saw on the tables. But as you were leaving the dance floor, long fingers grabbed onto yours and you were pulled towards someone’s chest. Your back pressed against it. You were ready to scream and cause a scene but before you could, you heard a familiar voice whisper in your ear and you all but melted.
“I do hope you reserved one last dance for me, sunflower.” You turned around, eyes meeting. He looked more handsome than the last time you saw him. Unruly hair pulled back so his features stood out more. His eyes were dancing all over your face a small smile splayed across his lips. He wore a blue tunic that fitted him perfectly and emphasized his broad shoulders. He looked…good enough to eat. You blushed at the thought. You were not so innocent. Your hands explored your body more times than you can count. Rhaenyra also told you how her uncle took her to the pleasure house, telling you all kinds of things she saw. How people pleasured each other. The wanton moans jumping off off walls. The sound of skin slapping echoed throughout the streets. And then she told you about her and Ser Criston Cole. ‘It felt good’ she said as she watched your reaction to her ramblings. Wide eyes met hers. She made you promise you would not tell anybody. And that promise you kept.
“My Lord, I was about to just sit down. I fear one dance and my feet could not endure it anymore.” he tightened the grip on your hand as if saying ‘please do not leave’.
“Not wearing boots today, sunflower?” amusement could be heard in his voice. Ah, so he is trying to jest with you.
“No, my Lord. But if you want to make fun of my pain then I shall leave.” his eyes widened. He did not mean to offend you. As he was ready to apologize he saw the little smirk that made its way onto your face. Oh, so this is how it is now?
“Mm, maybe a walk through the gardens is in order then. You could take off those uncomfortable dress slippers if that would relieve some of your pain, sunflower.” You acted as if you were thinking about it but of course, you wanted to spend some more time with him. You hastily agreed while not being able but to smile when you saw how excited he looked. He led you through the mass of people hand-in-hand.
A fresh breeze hit your face when you exited the main hall. You slipped your hand away from his, taking your slippers off, holding them now in one of your hands. The gardens were beautiful at night. Lit up with torches for people to still see the beauty of it. Many flowers of many species were planted here. One time you tried to learn all the names of them but there were too many of them and you did not have such a brilliant mind to remember them all. As you started walking through them he grabbed your free hand once again but now only your pinky fingers linked together.
“So why did you bring me here, my Lord?” you asked after a moment.
“Just call me Harwin, please. And to answer your question I will be straightforward with you, my Lady. After the night at the camp, I could not take you out of my mind. You plague all my thoughts and my whole being and I am pretty sure you captured my heart as well. I know it is quite quick to say such things but I do want to get to know you, sunflower. That is if you will allow me.’’ he stopped walking, looking deep into your eyes. His were soft and vulnerable and you could not tear yours from his even if you tried. He was sincere about what he spoke you could tell.
“To be honest, my Lord, I do not think there is much to know about me. I am a simple woman that does not come from any great House. The only thing I have going for me in my life is being lady-in-waiting to princess Rhaenyra.” you looked down at the ground feeling ashamed. How could he say such things to you when you felt not worthy of his affections? You were no one great. Yes, you spoke your mind freely and said your thoughts aloud but that is something that came after many years spent in the company of Rhaenyra. You could, however, not compare to her in the slightest. She was the future Queen, she was Targaryen that had her dragon, and she was wanted and beautiful. Realm’s delight. You were none of those things. Harwin grabbed your chin making you look at him.
Oh, how could you say such things when you were perfect in every way imaginable in his eyes? Your face, your eyes, your smile, your hair, the scent of you that drove him crazy. Your perfect skin that he itched to touch. The way you spoke, the words you used to sway him over each time. Your walk makes him want to follow you until the end of his time. You were Goddess in his eyes and he planned to show you.
“That is nonsense, sunflower. I see you are fierce and stubborn, and you love to tease me. You are beautiful and worthy of knowing. Speaking of sunflowers I would like to show you something.” You had no time to react to his kind words as he dragged you through the gardens his big steps almost making you had to jog behind him.
He came to a halt suddenly,  you almost colliding with his back. You curiously walked past him as to why he stopped and a gasp left your mouth. Sunflowers. A few of them were planted behind some old bushes so they could stay hidden. You looked at him but he was already staring at you gauging your reaction.
“I saw there were no sunflowers planted in the royal gardens. Such a shame, really. They are beautiful I can understand why they are your favorites.” you let out a breathy laugh. He did this for you. You could not believe it. You bring his hand towards yours, kissing each of his knuckles. That affection made the tip of his ears turn into a dark red color.
“It is beautiful, Harwin. Thank you for this.”
“As are you, sunflower.”
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After Rhaenyra’s wedding, you became closer to Harwin. He meant what he said that night. He wanted to get to know you. And even though you both had your duties to take care of, you always found time for one another. Today was your day which meant spending it in the gardens. You often bring a blanket, putting it next to the sunflowers and stole away a few treats from the kitchens. You were patiently waiting for him. The book you read to him on these days lay in your lap.
“Mm, you look lovely as ever, sunflower.” he said as he wrapped his hands around your middle. A quick kiss planted on your temple. Today,  you wore his favorite yellow satin dress with golden embroideries adorning it.
“Why thank you.” You blushed. His affectionate nature was not foreign to you. He tried to show you every day that he deeply cared about you. Whether with his sweet words or actions it did not matter. And you knew you loved him. You just wanted to kiss him and love on him and spent the rest of your days with him. But alas he did not seem to get your message. Moons passed since your first meeting and he did not kiss you once. You did not understand why.
You put the book next to you making space for him. He enjoyed putting his head into your lap, humming contently while you played with his hair, reading him the History of Dragons you already read more times than you can count. The violet flower he put in your hair the first night layed between the first pages. Sometimes he liked to gently trace his fingertips over it. Loving that you kept it all this time.
“How was your day today?” you asked twirling one of his curls around your index finger. He looked at you through his long lashes giving you a tired smile.
“Exhausting. I could not wait to be with you again. How about yours?”
“Good. Rhaenyra is about to give birth at any moment now and complains about not being able to see her toes or to bend down, or that the pillows are not comfortable like that, or-“ Harwin laughed.
“Okay, I think I get it.” you laughed with him and then comfortable silence fell between you once again. He almost fell asleep like this but you called out his name and he hummed in question.
“How come you never kissed me?” his eyes shot open. All signs of being tired gone. He slowly set up. You eyed him curiously.
“Would you want me to?” Was he serious? You wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you…or throw you on your bed and make love to you. You touched yourself to the thought of that many times now. You felt a little embarrassed about how you moaned his name while he was not even with you. Or never really touched you that way.
“Yes, of course. I love you so it would be weird for me not to want-“
“You love me?” Now you had his full attention solely on you.
“Yes, I thought it was obvious. I know we never told each other that we love one another but I do love you, Harwin.” you smiled.
“Then marry me.” Did you hear him right? No, you had to be dreaming. Surely he did not say…
“Marry me. I love you and want to be with you for the rest of my days, sunflower. I breathe only for you, my heart is beating for you only, my mind is yours and you own me entirely. Body and soul. And I want to seal our love before the Gods so you can become my lawful wife and I will take care of you. As your husband.” tears sprang into your eyes. You wanted nothing more. The only thing you needed was Harwin. Your Harwin.
“Yes. Yes, Harwin. I would want nothing more than to marry you!” And nothing could prepare you for what he did next.
He finally put his mouth on yours. Firm but gentle at the same time. His lips were chapped but surprisingly soft. You closed your eyes loving the taste of him on you. He pulled you onto his lap, his hands holding your face. Thumbs caressing your cheeks. You shifted in his lap, a groan leaving his mouth and then his tongue licked your bottom lip and into your mouth. His hands wandered from your face to your back and then to your bottom, breaths mingling together. Chests heaving. You could stay like this forever. You were quite literally surrounded by him. His presence, his smell. And you did not mind one bit. You wished nothing more than to stay like this forever, He slowly pulled away from your lips, pupils blown wide, heart quickly hammering in his chest. You smiled at him sweetly and he kissed you once again. He could not wait for you to become his wife. And he your husband.
So that’s how you ended up here. You in his arms, the breaths he took tickling your face a bit. One of his hands splayed across your middle while the other layed under his head. He stirred a bit, hummed  and with his groggy morning voice said:
 “You are starring. Again.” Lazy smile made its way across his lips. You pretend to be offended by such an accusation. 
“I am not. How could you even know? Your eyes are still closed.” With that he opens one of his eyes. 
“Mm, I do not mind one bit. Quite the opposite actually. You are my wife so you can stare at me or touch me all you want.” you blush a little at his intuendo. The pregnancy hormones made you particulary needy. Not that Harwin minded one bit. He more than enjoyed you begging for him or you taking control, taking what was rightfully yours. 
 He brings you closer to him by your waist, both of you still naked under the furs from last night activities. The hand that was across your middle now splayed across your almost non-visible baby bump. You were four moons in, at least that’s what the maester said. Harwin lived for the way you started to swole, your stomach getting bigger by each day, your breasts becoming fuller. All for his baby. Your baby. He slowly pulled the furs down your body relieving your bare body to his hungry eyes. He licked his lips, both of his hands coming to your head so he could hover over you.
 “You are so beautiful. Round with our child. Bare before me and all mine.” before you could retort, his lips made their way to the sensitive spot under your ear. His beard scratching your sensitive skin deliciously. He licks and and sucks, your moans like music to his ears. He loved to mark you, to show everyone that you were his. But you were pretty sure all of King’s Landing already knew. The public way of showing affection anywhere you two went together giving everyone hint that you were off limits. After all, no one wanted to get on Breakbones’ bad side. You grabbed his head so he would stay there, you fingers making their way into his hair scratching lightly, making him moan.
 He slowly pulled away from your neck, kisses planted now across your face. On your forehead, under both of your eyes, on your cheeks, nipping at your chin. And than finally, finally kissing you on your mouth, his tongue carresing your bottom lip asking to grant him access into your mouth. You moaned, his tongue fought with yours for dominance, his hand squeezing your right breast lightly. Another moan fell from your lips and he moved down, kissing across your throat down to the valey of your breasts and than pulling one of your nipples into his mouth sucking while he massaged your other tit. His name falling out of your lips like a prayer. 
 “Harwin, Harwin, please!” you cried out when he lightly scratched your nipple with his teeth. 
“What are you begging for, sunflower?” a smug smirk adorned his face. He looked at you through his long lashes, his chin now resting in the valey of your breasts.
 “Please I need you!” he laughed at that, his hands now squeezing your sides.
 “Hm, but you have me.”
 “Please, Harwin, do not tease. I want you. I want your cock or your fingers, or your mouth. Anything!” his eyes darkened at your crude language and who was he to deny his wive’s wishes? 
 He kisses his way across your stomach, planting few kisses there and he opens up your legs then, putting them on his broad shoulders, licking and sucking and nipping on your inner thighs. And with your hand now in his hair, pulling at his roots he growles and dips his skillful tongue into you. He loved the taste of you. So rich and sweet. He could drink from you forever. His eyes roll into back of his head when you pull at his hair again, flooding his mouth with your essence. He caresses your thighs, drawing circular patterns on them. His nose bumps with your clit with every lick and his beard burns you in all the right ways. You are so close and when he licks and sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth you all but scream his name. White hot pleasure shooting through your whole body. Toes curling and your hands pulling at his hair. He moans into your center, lapping at what you give him, riding you through it and just after you start to push his head away from how oversensitive you are, he stops. He trails kisses back up your body and pulls you into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He lazily tugs at his cock, the head of it now angry red color with precum leaking out of it.
 “Can I?” Ever the gentleman he asks. 
 “Yes.” you sigh. 
He links his fingers with yours, pushing into you slowly. Both of you moan into eachothers mouths. It is too much. It is always too fucking much with him. He is big and so fucking thick that even after so many times spend together you need a moment to get used to him. He always stretches you out so good, your walls burning at the feeling of him in you. You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, the head of him hitting the spot with each pass of his hips. But you live for it. You breathe for the way he fills you with him and brings you to the edge again and again, and again. 
 Sometimes he’s patient with you. Simply content with drilling into you with slow deep thrusts that make you beg for more. Calm, soft. Other times, like today, he simply cannot hold back and fucks into you with such a force he knocks each and every  passing breath out of you. Each lewd slap of skin against skin only spurring him on more and he barely holds himself together when your fingers scratch his back, surely leaving marks. But he does not mind. He loves that you mark him in your own kind of way. He fucks into you harder, one of his hands slipping between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and drawing circular patterns on it. Just how you like it. You yelp and cry out. Your orgasm washing over you, stronger than the first one and your cunt almost pushes his cock out of you with the sheer force of it. Despite his cock stretching the walls of your cunt to the brink of pain you beg him for more. Your voice weak and shaky and fingers desperately making their way into his hair. You pull at the roots, exposing his neck and nipping at it, feeling him slow down. 
 “Yes, that’s it. Give it to me, love. I want to feel all of you.” And with that he cums, moaning into your throat. He rides out his high, panting and planting butterfly kisses onto the side of your neck. He than flips you both over, both of you laying on your sides, his cock still in you. He caresses your shoulder planting few kisses there and than he snuggles closer to you, sweet nothings whispered into your ear. And you fall asleep like that. Content and happy. In the arms of your love. Your husband. Your protector.
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theemporium · 11 months
Note
a marauders zombie apocalypse au smsjdjdjdmdksksksksksks
thank you for requesting!🖤i have never really wrote a zombie apocalypse au before so i am so sorry in advance💀
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You barely remembered your life before the apocalypse.
Maybe flashes here and there: sunny days, green grass and spiked drinks shared between your friends as you joked and laughed. Your memories faded as the months passed, faces became blurred and voices became distant and you were pretty sure you were starting to make some of them up because they didn’t feel real again—they didn’t feel like something you could have possibly lived through. 
You had been with a large group of people, near the start when the outbreak started to infect the country. 
You were trained by your neighbour on how to use a gun. You would go hunting with the kind woman from the cafe down the street you grew up on. You did patrols with the neighbourhood kids you grew up with. 
And then you watched each of them die until your large group only consisted of you.
You pegged your survival more on sheer dumb luck over skill, but that was a fact you were happy to ignore as long as you were alive and…well, breathing. 
After your last camp had been overrun and exposed, you had fled as quickly as you could and didn’t look back. You headed north, thinking it was best to get far away from your last few campsites and didn’t stop until you reached the border. It had been days of hiking and setting risky, temporary camps in places that brought you little to no comfort but you no longer lived in a world that could let you worry about something like that.
This was about survival, not comfort.
It had been around six days since you fled when you stumbled upon an abandoned farmhouse, the only building you had seen in the last week but you weren’t one to focus on the facts. Luck had helped you survive thus far, you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
The muscles in your legs burned from the non-stop hiking, your lower back was killing you from the supplies you had been carrying and you were pretty sure you had blisters and chafing in places you didn’t even know were possible.
It would be stupid to fall fast asleep when you hadn’t properly patrolled the area or set up camp for a short time, but the exhaustion of the last few days of travel had knocked you out before you could even scramble around you backpack for the tin of beans you had nicked further south during your journey. 
When you woke up, it was hard to ignore the three boys standing around you. 
Out of instinct, you scrambled back as you reached for the shotgun you had by your side when you slept, your finger shakily finding the trigger as you stared at the three strangers. 
“Hey, hey, calm down,” one of them said—the one in the middle with wide shoulders, messy curls and round-shaped glasses—as he held out his hands. “We didn’t mean to startle you, love.”
“Who are you?” you snapped before realising that wasn’t quite the right question. “What do you want?” 
“We don’t mean any harm,” the man to his left said, this one was taller and had sandy-brown hair. 
“We just wanna know how a pretty girl found herself in our camp,” the final boy spoke up, the face of pure arrogance and charm and you felt your stomach twist a little at the smile on his face.
“Your camp?” you repeated, eyeing them warily.
“That is what I said,” the arrogant man replied and, without a care in the world about the weapon you had pointing at him, he kneeled down in front of you and thrusted his hand out. “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.”
“Right,” you said in response, rather than your own name.
“That’s James,” he continued as he pointed to the boy with glasses. “And that’s Remus,” he said as he pointed to the taller boy.
“You’re very talkative,” you murmured, unsure of the last time you had spoken so much. There weren't many people to speak to when you were on your own.
“You’ll get used to it,” James said with a smile.
You raised your brows in response.
“You won’t really,” Remus added with a shrug. 
You didn’t really understand these boys nor did you know them, but you had an inkling that your lonely days of travelling and surviving wouldn’t last much longer with the three of them around.
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mads-weasley · 2 years
Text
I've Got You
Marc Spector x Wife!Reader
Masterlist
MOON KNIGHT EP. 3 SPOILERS BELOW
A/N: To say I'm in love with Moon Knight is an understatement. I was already in love with Oscar Isaac, but now it's reached a whole other level! This is kinda trash, but it's okay! I do not own any of these characters except (y/n)! Enjoy!
Summary: While visiting Sinfu's sarcophagus at Mogart's in order to get the coordinates to Ammit's tomb, something goes wrong and Marc is forced to deal with his only weakness; you.
Warnings: oscar isaac, violence, mentions of death, blood, hospitals?
y/n - your name
y/n/n - your nickname
y/h/c - your hair color
Khonshu's Voice - bold
Steven's Voice - italics
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This was not how (y/n) and Marc thought the night was going to go. It was supposed to be a simple in and out mission to discover the coordinates of Ammit's tomb, but clearly, things did not go according to plan. Right after Marc, well, really his alter Steven, started figuring out the map, Anton's men caught onto their act and took the couple hostage.
Then Arthur Harrow and his goons showed up. The whole time he was doing his speech about Ammit and her powers, (y/n) couldn't help but wonder why Marc hadn't summoned the suit yet. Glancing over to him, she raised her eyebrows with widened eyes, silently asking the question on her mind. It was like he was waiting on her queue.
"Hey, he's gone." announced one of the guards.
"Where is he?" another asked.
(Y/n) looked up at the metal structure in front of her, smirking when she saw her husband in the suit. Within 5 seconds, he had taken out the goon holding her and two others on his way down. Everything after that seemed like a blur.
Before long, Marc was caught up in the horse ring while (y/n) was in an intense fight with Anton's right hand man in front of the sarcophagus. She dodged a punch to the jaw and caught sight of Marc. What she saw made her freeze. In this moment of weakness, the man grabbed her and threw her against the metal structure. Landing in a heap, (y/n) looked back at Marc and knew she had to help him. She reached up, dismantling her neckpiece into two daggers before charging the man and piercing his chest with both blades.
Running towards the horse ring, she grabbed the man's discarded gun and hopped over the fence into the circle. Marc was being held down by three men who had impaled him with spears the trainers had been using. Seeing one riding towards him, she easily took him out with a single shot.
"Marc!" She yelled, running towards him.
"No! (Y/n), look out!"
His warning was too late as Anton, who was on a horse, bashed (y/n) in the head with the blunt end of a spear. She instantly crumpled to the ground and Marc thought his head was going to explode with anger. The suit disappeared from around his face as he cried out for her.
"(Y/n)!"
Unphased, Anton rode and grabbed another spear, intending on finishing off the woman right before Marc's very eyes. With a smirk aimed at her husband, he turned towards the (y/h/c). With glowing eyes, Marc's mask formed over his face once again. Something snapped inside him, and in seconds, he had broken free of the spears holding him down and taken out all three of the men.
Anton stared at Marc for a few seconds before he made his move. As he started riding full speed towards her, Marc took off as well, promising himself that he'd make it in time. The two men were mere feet apart when Marc was able to haphazardly pull her away from Anton's path. After making sure she was out of harm's way, he quickly took Anton out, throwing one of his crescent daggers into his back.
Now that the threat was gone, he returned to his normal form and hurried over to his wife's unmoving body.
"Baby, are you okay?" he asked, rolling her over onto her back. When he got no response, his hands moved gently around her face, shaking it ever-so slightly. It looked like she was peacefully sleeping, and that's what scared him the most.
"Come on sweetheart, wake up."
After a few moments, her eyes slowly fluttered open, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Smoothing back her hair lovingly, he helped her sit up.
"Can you stand?" Marc asked.
(Y/n) nodded shakily, trying to pull herself to her feet. Just as soon as she managed to get upright, her knees buckled. Her vision went blurry as she tried to grasp out at thin air, or anything, really, to stop her from-
Marc caught her before she hit the ground, helping her sit back down. "S-sorry," (Y/n) stutters, "I-"
Trying not to show his concern, he calmly rubs her hair once again. "It's okay." As her eyes started to close, he quickly moved his hand to cup her cheek. "You're okay. You're okay...Baby, what's wrong?"
He could barely understand her as she slurred. "I don' kno-" before finally drifting back to unconsciousness. His heart felt as if it was in his stomach. He had only recently been reunited with (y/n) after a very long while, and he refused to lose her again. Quickly, he checked for a pulse and thankfully found one.
Shifting her where she was leaned up against him, he cradled her head in his hands, praying she'd wake up. He pulled his hand back and almost threw up at the sight. It was covered with blood.
"No, no, no," he panicked, getting a look at the injury. Her normally beautiful (y/h/c) hair was now stained with the dark red substance.
Steven's anxious voice made an appearance. "Oh no, oh no, she needs to get to a hospital right now."
In a split second decision, Marc gently picked her up bridal style, heading for the closest way off the island. Looking down at her, his eyes started to burn with unshed tears. "You're gonna be okay, (y/n/n). It's okay. I've got you."
A voice boomed in his head. "Marc. What are you doing?"
Khonshu.
"I'm getting her to a hospital."
"You can't do that. If Arthur Har-"
Spinning around to face the god, Marc sneered. "I don't care about him. I care about my wife."
~
The pungent smell of hospital disinfectant stung his nostrils as he slumped in the bedside chair of the small room. Marc hadn't left his wife's side since she got moved to a room after they stitched her up. The doctors said she had a concussion, but would be fine with rest. Now he was just waiting for her to wake up.
Careful of her IV, he gently wrapped his hand around hers, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against the top of her hand. Thinking back on all the dangerous situations he had ever been in as a mercenary, he had never been scared, but when he saw (y/n) go down, he had never been more scared in his life.
The tears that had formed on his waterline finally came trickling down his face as he stared at his lap. "I'm so sorry, (y/n/n). I should've protected you. I know I haven't been there for you a-and this is the exact reason why. I didn't want you getting hurt." Rubbing his free hand slowly down his face, he continued, "I love you too much to see you lying in a hospital bed because of me. I ca-"
"You finished?" a raspy voice interrupted.
"Thank you." Steven said, " I couldn't take that any longer!"
Ignoring the Brit, his eyes sapped up to hers, a smile spread across his face as he whispered. "Hey, you. How're you feeling?"
"Like I got hit in the head by a spear." she quipped
Marc grimaced. "I'm surprised you remember that." His face turned serious. "You really scared me."
"It's not your fault. I heard the last bit of your "confession" and I don't want to hear anymore of it. Honestly, I just want to go back to sleep. My head is killing me."
He started getting up. "Okay, I'll leave you alone."
"Whoa, mister. You didn't let me finish."
"Alright," he chuckled.
"The only other thing I want more than a nap is for you to hold me. Luckily, I think we can kill two birds with one stone here."
Folding back the covers, a smiling Marc climbed in next to his wife and wrapped her in his strong arms. She yawned. "I missed this. I missed you, Marc."
"I missed you so much." He paused, "I love you, but go to sleep. You need it."
"I love you to the moon and back."
His heart warmed at the old joke between them, but before he could answer, he could hear her soft snores. With a chuckle, he kissed her temple.
"I've got you. To the moon and back."
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tiredcowpoke · 11 months
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SNAP
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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader    Request: “Hey hey 👋 been a big fan of your writing for a while and glad to see you back! (mostly interact from sideblog @cirillamylove​) would love to request an comfort fic for Arthur Morgan with a chronically stressed out reader just really going through it (I didn’t see any prompt lists so I hope this is ok)“ Warnings: Major warning for an anxiety/panic attack, there’s also some blood and injury, along with some angst but there’s comfort at least. Reader’s gender neutral (or I haven’t used any specifically gendered language) Note: Adopting a new formatting style from my other blogs, so that’s what’s up with the sudden change. Also, I based this around my experiences with panic disorder and anxiety, so it got a little self indulgent but I hope it’ll help/ring true to people with similar experiences. Anyway, sorry for the quiet, I hope you all enjoy.
Much like an old rope, each strain and pull only disconnected and frayed what little you had keeping you together. The quick upheaval of camps, the shootouts, the uncertainty of your future, they pulled that rope taut.
It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of the lifestyle you had found yourself in and what it did to people. You had seen some cruel bastards in your time, those who reveled in destruction and bloodshed. There were those who pretended to saddle a gray area, but they were particularly easy to see through once they had to weigh their actions against their words. You had also seen some more level-headed outlaws, those who were outcasts already and saw no other way, those who were just trying to survive. You liked to think you stood within the latter group, and yet the risks were the same, regardless of what reasons you had for doing what you do.
Yet, the fear and stress made a predator that you found yourself struggling to escape from sometimes.
You weren’t the only one experiencing that–you saw it crop up in other camp members when things were bad. Abigail’s harsh words and fussiness over Jack, Hosea’s clipped answers and shouts, Dutch’s recklessness and anger, Arthur’s biting sarcasm and remarks thrown about without a second thought to harm. Among others.
You liked to think you had some control over your emotions–you shared your concerns, sure, but you could tell when you were reaching the end of your rope. The ache in your teeth and jaw from clenching and grinding them in your sleep, or the way you felt like you had to be on point in everything you did. The uncertainty felt suffocating some days–how far were you supposed to run? How long would these changes last? How much money does the gang really have? How much do they really need?
‘Worrywort,’ ‘a worrier,’ you had heard some sort of variation of that comment when it came to you from time to time. You didn’t think it was always a bad thing–someone had to worry, right? Yet, the anxiety that came from that had such a strong grip at times that you weren’t sure how to function. Locking up in moments you really shouldn’t be, and the clumsiness that resulted from the racing in your head at points didn’t exactly go over well with some people.
It made you weary to go out on jobs, to earn money for the gang that you were pressured to do constantly, and you didn’t know if you would be able to collect yourself if you fell apart.
Yet, it was inevitable. That final tug came with the sharp pain of a bullet ripping through your shoulder, and something in you snapped.
The ringing in your ears almost drowned out the sound of your horse’s hooves against the ground, the shout of your name as you continued to just ride. You didn’t know exactly where you were going–the outskirts of the town had long since disappeared into the distance, the plains of the Heartlands stretching out before you, and it was hard to recognize anything. You had rode around the area more than enough to know where things were, yet everything looked the same to you at the moment.
You knew you were pushing your horse, the snorts and the starts of the agitated head throwing finally seemed to register in your mind as you turned to make your way up a small incline. A part of you just wanted to get up high–somewhere safe, where you could see things. Finally, you pulled your horse to a stop once you climbed to a flat surface overlooking part of the Heartlands.
“Sorry, sorry…” you muttered at your horse, who stomped and huffed as you tried to calm the poor beast. In your mind, you felt like you were miles away from the moment, but thankfully that ringing in your ears and the rushing in your head was slowing down.
You were aware of the sharp pain that was radiating from your shoulder, but at the moment you didn’t really care. Once you had managed to calm your horse, you unsteadily climbed down from your staddle and moved forward a couple steps to sit yourself down on a rock. Your head was pounding, your heart racing as if it had run there on foot.
The shakiness that usually only seized you at night was now making you almost quake, teeth chattering and your hands shaking. You just wanted it to stop–this whole thing was minor, there was a fight with some trigger happy assholes, and you weren’t sure if Arthur followed you out this far or if you had just outran him, but you didn’t want him to see you like this. He had complained to you a couple times about being the camp’s ‘workhorse’ and how he struggled to keep everything together, and you didn’t want him to have to see you while it felt like you were coming apart at the seams.
You just couldn’t quite get your breath under control, still gasping like you had just sprinted several miles and shaking like a leaf. It’ll pass, you reminded yourself, it always does–
“What’re you doin’ out here?” a familiar voice called out, making you jump.You almost threw yourself to your feet, yet you let out a shaky breath and managed to just cast the owner of the voice a sharp glance.
“Just–” you snapped, “Get out of here, Arthur.”
If agitation hadn’t gotten a hold of your tongue, you would have realized how sharp that demand was. Yet, in the moment, you didn’t feel like you were in control of anything. Arthur didn’t respond to that for a few moments–you had looked away from him, not wanting to see the look on his face. You didn’t want to see his expression when he realized just how much of a mess you really were.
Yet, while a more prideful part of you was wishing he would just walk off, you also wanted him there. In a way. You didn’t really know what you wanted from him at the moment.
“You’re…” Arthur started, sounding almost torn on what he wanted to do, himself, “You’re bleedin’ on yourself. I saw you get shot.”
…Right. Right, you had been shot. In your current state, somehow that had managed to slip into the back of your mind. With your attention now drawn back to it, you could feel the sharp sting of the wound in your shoulder. Gingerly, you reached up and under the edge of the shirt you wore, pulling your hand back to see some blood on your fingertips. Shit.
“You got somethin’ to close that up with?” Arthur asked.
You still didn’t want to look at him, but you didn’t have the energy to get up or chase him off, despite your previous words. You pointed toward your saddle bags with your uninjured arm.
“I have an old shirt. I can cut a sleeve or…something and use that until someone can close it up properly later.”
Again, Arthur didn’t reply, but you heard him walk off behind you toward where your horse was. Thankfully, the momentary distraction helped with that terrible tightness in your chest, as much as you still shivered as if you were sitting out in the cold. The Heartlands wasn’t terribly hot, but it certainly wasn’t freezing either.
Arthur returned with the shirt you had mentioned, sitting down on the rock beside you. There was some space between you, so he wasn’t crowding you but it was enough to notice him. You watched as he cut a part of the sleeve off, cutting it down the middle somewhat so it was long enough to wrap around your arm.
“Ain’t…” he started, putting the hunting knife away, “Ain’t good at much else, but I’ve closed up enough wounds in my time. Should be enough until you get back to camp.”
“Yeah,” you muttered, letting him take your arm and wrap the make-shift bandage around it.
You took in a small breath at the sting of him tightening it, but it was a bit of a relief to know that at least you wouldn’t have to worry about too much blood loss on top of everything.
“...I don’t know what happened,” you said after a few moments, Arthur releasing your arm once the bandage was secure. “I thought…I thought I was fine. I had more–more control, and then…”
“We almost got into a shootout,” Arthur commented, “It’s happened before. I don’t think it’s anythin’ that’ll come back to hurt us any.”
“I guess, but…in the moment I don’t think I really knew what was going on. Something in me just…snapped. I can’t–I don’t…I don’t feel in control of myself these days. The running, the moving, the jobs, the packing up and moving again…”
“I know what you mean,” Arthur said with a small nod, “Things…I dunno, they ain’t great but we’ve made it outta things like this before. We’ll do it again. Don’t got much choice on that.”
“I know Dutch always…” you exhaled heavily, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes for a few moments, “He’s got his plans, but…I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“We…keep pushin’,” Arthur replied after a few moments, “That’s all we can do. We’ll get out the other side of this, we just have to keep goin’.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur said with a shake of his head, clasping his hands together in his lap as he looked down at his boots, “I ask myself that a lot, but…no use givin’ up now.”
You nodded lightly, accepting that answer. It didn’t exactly mean you accepted the situation, but it was the one you were in. You also knew that Arthur didn’t like it either, that he could understand your stress in a way. Perhaps not in exactly the same ways, but it was enough that his words were a little soothing. That it wasn’t just you. That you weren’t worrying for nothing.
With a sigh, you reached up and rubbed at your eyes, feeling the wetness that soaked your cheeks. A quick flash of embarrassment had you trying to hide your face somewhat, but you knew it was no use since he’d seen it all anyway.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you admitted, wiping away the tears from your eyes and cheeks.
“Like what?”
You gestured vaguely to yourself with your good arm, letting out an almost humorless huff. “Me crying and shaking like a leaf, bleeding all over myself. I should have collected myself or…”
You trailed off, realizing how futile that statement was. You didn’t invite Arthur to come find you, he showed up on his own. You didn’t have time to ‘collect yourself’ and yet a part of you hated that you hadn’t.
“I don’t want you to think…lowly of me or that I’m just…a mess,” you continued, “I thought…I thought I had more control of myself, but…I don’t feel like I do.”
Despite your own words, you couldn’t help the way your eyes clouded over with unshed tears, voice cracking at the end as you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to hold back the sob that threatened to come out. Out of control. That’s what scared you–you wanted to be in control of yourself, and yet…you certainly weren’t in that moment.
You were surprised, however, when you felt Arthur pull you into his side as he wrapped an arm around your back. While a part of you wanted to push away, to insist that you were fine, you found yourself wrapping an arm around his back as you pressed your head into the side of his neck. Arthur placed his free hand on the side of your head, the feeling causing you to close your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You could feel the tears leaking out, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop holding onto him, your free arm curled into his chest. Your shoulder was protesting, but you didn’t care.
“You’re alright,” Arthur muttered, the softness of his tone surprising you as well. “I don’t think anythin’ different about you. Shouldn’t matter much if I did, my opinions ain’t worth much.”
“That’s such a lie and you know it,” you replied, voice thick but you couldn’t help the touch of amusement as you felt him chuckle in return.
“Well, first part’s true. Don’t know about the rest,” he said, making a small grin touch your face.
It was a relief that he didn’t judge you for what was happening, really. You had wanted him to believe that you had it under control, that your wellbeing wasn’t just another thing to add to his list of things he needed to keep on top of. Yet, you knew it wasn’t fair to just hold everything in. He cared, that much was true.
“You’ve been in camp long enough,” he continued, “You’ve seen the screamin’ matches, people stumbling around drunk, injured. You’ve seen me in some ways I wish you hadn’t. I can’t judge. You’re one of the strongest people here.”
“I don’t feel strong,” you muttered, voice muffled into his shoulder. Yet, it was an admission that seemed to lift some weight off your chest. “I want to be, but I don’t feel like I am.”
“You are,” Arthur insisted, “Amount of times you’ve seen me lash out, say things without thinkin’. You kept it together for a long time. Runnin’ off on your horse is not the worst way I’ve seen someone break.”
“...I’m sorry I snapped at you,” you said, letting out a heavy breath as you relaxed into his hold some more, “You didn’t have to stay, but you did and I appreciate this. More than I can say, Arthur.”
“We’re gonna get through it,” Arthur replied, resting his cheek against the side of your head, “It’ll be fine.”
You didn’t know if that was a lie or not–if that was naive thinking with what you both knew about what was happening. In the moment, however, you let yourself believe that. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, shutting your eyes as you let out a slow breath.
“Thank you.”
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buckleburyblog · 2 months
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LOTR Characters as things I did when I was younger, Part 2:
-> Part 1
- Faramir: Going ice skating with a friend who jokingly dragged me into the middle of the rink and tried to make me slip, only to have it backfire when I somehow turned it back on her and made her lose her balance whilst I stayed upright. (Don't know if this fits w/ Faramir but I feel like he's the type of person to have pranks on him somehow accidentally backfire for whoever's trying to prank him).
- Eomer: Befriending one of the largest horse in the stables that I used to go riding at easily despite the fact that the people working there said he hated most people and wouldn’t cooperate when they took him for rides.
- Eowyn: I genuinely forgot how to cook a dish I cooked regularly for like half an hour and had to physically leave the kitchen to do something else to get my brain to reset. (Happened like last year, but it fits with Eowyn's -10/10 cooking skills so I had to use it here).
- Arwen: Whenever I went with my parents to the local RSPB (a wildlife conservation charity) I used to find the bees on the flowers and literally pet them. I also used my coat to straight up carry them by just gently trapping them inside it (I swear no bees were harmed).
- Elrond: Jokingly being known as Dad by my friend group in secondary school. (Years later it is still a running thing with some of them to the point that their friends, who are a bit younger, genuinely only know me/refer to me as Dad).
- Galadriel: I did karate for a while and one of my favourite games that we'd do at the end of the 'term' was when we had to balance on one leg and the last to put theirs down won. The longer it carried on the more rules there were like: not being allowed to wobble, the instructor putting his foot close to our face or making us laugh, and in the finals you had to close your eyes so you couldn't see who was still in. I always won it whenever we played bc I was competitive af (and there were like GROWN ADULTS in this class that I beat as well).
- Gollum: Spent a few hours messing around by a stream with a little fishing net but got distracted at some point whilst in the water and let go of the net without realising. It got taken by the current and I was too small and slow to catch up to it so I lost it. (Cried when I realised I had lost it ;-;)
- Treebeard: Would have a go at some of the boys in my primary school who snapped the small branch off of the tree me and my friends named Steve because "they hurt it" & it meant we couldn't swing on it anymore.
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onlyshestandsthere · 9 months
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your fic is eating my mind can we please please please have a little snippet of chapter 10 to keep us fed over the weekend? pretty please?
Since you asked so nicely:
She waited a moment, watching him. When he didn’t move in her direction, she slowly got to her feet. It was awkward with her hands tied behind her back and her legs hobbled, but she managed.
Kit stood there, confused, before making her way towards another rock as far from him as she thought she could get away with. Then sat on one further still out of spite.
He said nothing.
“I’ll be back shortly. Watch her.”
Alavesh didn’t wait for a response, just walked into the forest on the other side of the small road they travelled on. It wasn’t well maintained and obviously didn’t get much use, littered with so many plants and tall grass that the wagon ruts were barely visible.
Kit was glad, having no doubt about what would happen should a group with horses pass them by.
Aldis watched her, slight smile on his face. He said nothing, just watched.
Eventually, Kit snapped at him, “What?”
He shrugged, that little smile still on his face. “Nothing. I am merely thinking that it is odd to see you unadorned with bruises.”
She curled her lip at him, baring her teeth. “Can’t wait to put some back?”
He shook his head. “Oh no, Alavesh has made herself very clear. You’re not to be harmed. No point in risking you now.” His smiled widened. “She’ll be taking care of you personally.”
Kit’s throat went dry, and she could feel her muscles locking up again. “Well aren’t you a good boy, following your orders. Shame Rill didn’t learn his lesson sooner.”
Kit didn’t want to say his name, didn’t want to think about him, but the slight dimming of that smile was almost worth the confusing flood of emotions she felt when she thought about the man who’d died trying to kill her.
“He might not have learned his lesson before it was too late,” he said, voice cold and intense, “But you will, I assure you. Alavesh will see to it.”
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sullina · 2 years
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Everyone knows au I guess, let's go!!
Zaratrus had been the one to find them, a young boy and an infant no older than a week stumbling through the wastes. The boy had the uniform of Danafor, proving himself a survivor of whatever calamity had befallen the kingdom. Zaratras let out a shout, running to the boy's side.
The moment he approached the bot flinched back, curling protectively around the babe and hissed at him with black eyes snd sharp fangs,
"Stay back!"
Zaratras stopped short, realization striking. The child is a demon, one that was wary and frightened after some terrible tragedy snd he'd just ran up with no regard. He tried again, more delicately,
"I'm sorry, I was so surprised snd happy to see someone in this mess. Are you alright? What happened here?"
The demon boy continued to glare at him warily, but his growling faded, indicating that he wasn't as hostile. Zaratrus tried to wrack his brain on everything he'd learned about the demon clan, trying to remember the best way to interact with a hostile demon. The stories only said to run when thag happened, he remembers, so he'll just have to wing it.
"Hey, why don't we get you and the child in you're arms looked at?" Zaratras said, slowly reaching a hand out. He held it, hovering in the air to indicate this is the child's choice, "I am Grandmaster Zaratrus, and you are?"
The boy stared at him a minutes, glancing between the hand and the druid's face as if trying to find some trick. He doesn't take the hand, voice raspy form lack of use and strain.
"I'm Meliodas."
Zaratrus is taken aback, he recognized the name. King Baltra and his had been considerably concerned when word of a child by the name of Meliodas had reach the status of Grandmaster within Danafor's army. If this was he than no wonder he reached such a rank, the king of Danafor was selfishly greedy and foolish and having a demon in his clutches would have been a warrior the king would be eager to gloat about. The title of Great Holy Knight was probably to prevent anyone from discovering his secret demon and trying to steal or kill Meliodas for themselves.
"I am glad too you're alright, I've heard tales of your abilities Meliodas." Zaratrus grinned, accepting the boy's refusal, "What happened here?"
"Soem cultists were messing with something they shouldn't have..." Came Meliodas'shaky reply, "It's my fault. I didn't realize in time... I could only save Elizabeth and... and..."
The boy trails off, tipping forward. Zaratrus jumped into action, catching both joy and infant before they reached the ground. Handing over the baby, presumably Elizabeth, to King Baltra whom had trotted up on his own horse with a small explanation of who these children are, Zaratrus lifted Meliodas up. He was thin, covered in many severely infected jnjuries, and looked like he hadn't eaten or slept on days.
The baby was much better off, clearly having been the boy's priority.
ooooh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I love this so much
And when they get to Liones, I can see Mel refusing to be treated by the healers there, not bc he doesn't want anyone to know, but because he knows that they can't treat him. Or at least not without unintentionally harming him through trial and error, which is how Merlin might introduce herself (if you want).
Meliodas struggled to stay awake in Zaratras' arms, not wanting to take his eyes off of the infant for even one second. When Baltra turned around, hiding her from sight, the demons eyes snapped open as he tried to sit up and reach for her, but was held firmly by the grandmaster. "Hey, hey, Meliodas, it's okay", Zaratras tried to soothe him, "it's okay. Both you and the baby will be taken care of as soon as we get to Liones. You can rest in the meantime."
"No! I need-", Meliodas protested but was interrupted by a coughing fit. The demon cursed his useless voice. He wanted to scream and cry and get Elizabeth back in his arms! He was the only one who could protect her, she was his everything-
Panic rose in his chest until he heard her giggle and realized that King Baltra was playing with her in a very fatherly manner. Maybe she would be okay for a bit... just for... a few... minutes...
Zaratras adjusted his grip when the demon suddenly fell asleep with no warning, going limp in his arms. "Oh my, that was fast", he quietly commented to no one in particular.
"Let's get these two back to Liones quickly, Sir Zaratras", Baltra half ordered half suggested and Zaratras was fully on board, mounting his steed.
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blairstales · 1 year
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Historical Hogmanay (Scottish New Year)
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Hogmanay is the name for the Scottish New Year Eve, and was once thought to be a time when the veil was thin, allowing all sorts of creatures from the Otherworld into ours. Some theorize that this supernatural aspect is even where the name came from.
 “We know that on this night it was considered necessary to propitiate the dwellers in fairy-land, who, with the Phynnodderees, Witches, and Spirits of all kinds, were abroad and especially powerful. We may, therefore, perhaps translate Hog-man-aye into Hanga-man-ey–“mound-men (for) ever,” the Fairies being considered as dwellers in the hows (or tumuli, or green mounds)…-“ The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man by A. W. Moore[1891]
The pagan roots of the festival were once clear, and some locations held onto those traditions longer than others. For example, the Isle of Man once had a person puppet a horses head made of wood that was called White Mare.
“He went round the table snapping the horse’s mouth at the guests who finally chased him from the room, after much rough play.” The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man by A. W. Moore[1891]
Similarly, some places in Scotland had a person in a cows hide who would be chased around the house by people with sticks.
“Each then pulled off a piece of the hide, and burnt it for the purpose of driving away disease.” The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man by A. W. Moore[1891]
Many of the traditions have died out, while others might still seem familiar.
Fires
For some on the last day of the year, the fire was to be smothered and made smooth. First thing in the morning, you would look for prints in the ash.
“The first thing on New Year’s morning was to examine if there was in the ashes any mark like the shape of a human foot with the toes pointing towards the door. If there was such a mark, one was to be removed from the family before the year was run. Some climbed to the roof of the house and looked down the “lum” for the dreaded mark.” Notes on Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotland by Walter Gregor, M.A. (1881)
For others, the fire was not allowed to go out all night.
"It was a practice not to be neglected to keep the fire alive in the house all night. No one was to come near it but a friend, and, as an additional security against its going out, candles were kept burning. Hence, the other name given to the night, Oidhche Choinnle, i.e. candle night." Witchcraft & Second Sight in the Highlands & Islands of Scotland by John Gregorson Campbell (1902)
If the fire did go out, you would be on your own. It was considered unlucky to give out fire on the first day of the year, so your neighbors would be unlikely to assist.
“It gave the means to witches and evilly-disposed people to do irreparable mischief to the cattle and their produce. The dying out of the fire was, therefore, a serious inconvenience in days when lucifer matches were unknown.” Witchcraft & Second Sight in the Highlands & Islands of Scotland by John Gregorson Campbell (1902)
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Juniper Saining
“On New Year’s day the Highlanders burned juniper before their cattle.” Old Scottish Customs, Local and General by Ellen Emma Guthrie 1885
Saining is a set of practices to cleanse or ward off evil, and juniper smoke is one example of it. Saining could be done at any time of year, but it was though to be stronger during times when the veil was thin.
Every room was cleansed with the smoke, and so were humans and cattle.
“Stewart in his “Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland” tells how on the last night of the year the Strathdown Highlanders used to bring home great loads of juniper, which on New Year’s Day was kindled in the different rooms, all apertures being closed so that the smoke might produce a thorough fumigation. Not only human beings had to stand this, but horses and other animals were treated in the same way to preserve them from harm throughout the year. Moreover, first thing on New Year’s morning, everybody, while still in bed, was asperged with a large brush.” Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, by Clement A. Miles, [1912]
Mumming
Mumming or guising is something people tend to associate with Halloween (trick-or-treating), but it also happened on Christmas and Hogmanay. Mummers (commonly poor folk) would entertain in exchange for food and drink.
Here is an example of just one rhyme:
“Get up, goodwife, and shake your feathers, And dinna think that we are beggars; For we are bairns come out to play, Get up and gie’s our hogmanay!” Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, by Clement A. Miles, [1912]
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Drinking
This is something people will recognize; drinking. People would get together with food and drinks (typically het pint).
“On the approach of twelve o’clock, a hot pint was prepared—that is, a kettle or flagon full of warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, with an infusion of spirits. When the clock had struck the knell of the departed year, each member of the family drank of this mixture ‘A good health and a happy New Year and many of them’ to all the rest, with a general hand-shaking.” Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, by Clement A. Miles, [1912]
When midnight hit, you would share with neighbors.
"Even the poorest in Scotland exchange sips of hot spiced ale, and make offerings of cakes, buns, and shortbread to their neighbours when ushering in the New Year on the stroke of midnight." Manners, Customs, and Observances: Their Origin and Significance by Leopold Wagner[1894]
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First Footing
Who was first to enter your home on the new year could alter your luck for the year.
“The first-footers are off and away, flying in every direction through the city, singing, cheering, and shaking hands with all and sundry.” Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, by Clement A. Miles, [1912]
For many places, you would hope it to be a dark-haired man.
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1016anon · 1 year
Text
Title: Random Vampire AU Author: 55anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kathani Sharma Summary: Victory Lap & Conservatory Ball
-2-
When he caught up to her, he immediately grabbed her horse's reins and dismounted his. She was so shocked when he pulled her down and gathered her in his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
"Kathani," he breathed.
She inhaled sharply, pulse quickening with confusion and the beginnings of fear.
"How do you know my name?"
He pulled back and took her chin in his hand, searching for something in her eyes. She moved her head to free herself, but he only put his palm to her cheek and looked straight in her eyes again.
"You don't remember?"
"We have never met."
They had never met, she was certain. However, there was an undeniable pull, as though a cord had formed between them the moment he said her name.
"But we-- the Prometheus Fire."
"Prometheus Fire?"
"We were married, four hundred years ago."
"I beg your pardon?"
Clearly, this handsome man was mentally disturbed. Kathani tried to extricate herself from his grasp but his strength was almost superhuman.
"We were married, then Camilla sent Berbrooke to hunt us down. They--" he still couldn't speak of it, not directly. "They used Prometheus Fire-- it should have extinguished your soul, my darling."
"Sir, I assure you we have never met. If you would be so good as release me, I must return to Mayfair."
"It must have burned through your memories," he murmured, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone.
"Sir, I insist you unhand me."
"Anthony. My name is Anthony."
"I don't care if your name is Anthony or Cleopatra, let go of me."
"You're the same," he marveled. "You're just the same."
"Let go."
He let go, but grabbed the reins to both their horses, distantly aware of the fact he was acting like a madman.
"Where in Mayfair are you staying?"
"That is none of your business," she snapped. "Give me my horse."
"You have no chaperone-- are you married?"
"And if I am?"
He grabbed her wrist again, face transformed into something monstrous.
"Are. You. Married."
"If I tell you, will you let me go? I'm going to be late."
"If you didn't remember me, you would be screaming with terror."
"Perhaps I should."
"Tell me?"
"Scream."
Anthony let go of the horses' reins in favor of crushing her back into his body, inhaling deeply.
"What are you doing?!"
"You're not married," he took more deep breaths of her scent, "though you've lain with other men."
"How can you--?"
"And women."
"I do not have to explain myself to you-- you're a stranger--"
"No, we're not strangers, Kathani," he forced her to look directly at him. "You can't deny you feel this between us."
"I feel nothing."
"You have the strength and skill to escape my hold and yet you haven't."
"A lady should not have to use force," she executed a quick sequence of hits and twists, "to extricate herself from a situation."
Kathani ran to her horse and pulled herself up to mount quickly. Anthony, as a member of the undead, moved with inhuman speed and caught her horse's reins again before she could urge it forward.
"Anthony!" she said in frustration.
In the back of her mind, there was a voice saying this interaction was too familiar; they were too comfortable and too familiar with each other; perhaps she was going mad.
"I love you."
"You're insane."
"I didn't dare hope, but you found a way back to me."
"I am not here to entertain the delusions of Englishmen, and I'm going to be late."
"Let me call on you."
"No," she jerked the reins, to no avail.
"Kathani, let me call on you. Where are you staying."
"If you know me so well, you shouldn't have a problem discovering it on your own."
"I would prefer if you told me."
"For the last time, no. Anthony, someone is going to see me!"
He heard before he saw the horses on the main path; Anthony did not want her reputation to come to any sort of harm so he finally let go. She immediately accelerated from a trot to a gallop.
"Mayfair is the other way, darling," he called.
Kathani growled as she executed a tight, beautiful turn, speeding past him.
"Do not call me that!"
Anthony laughed.
It did not matter that she didn't remember; in fact, it might be better that way. He didn't even want to think about the agony she must have gone through, burned alive in that sick, green fire.
Part of him wanted to rush through courtship, blackmail the archbishop to obtain a special license, and marry her as soon as possible. Another part of him imagined a long, beautiful courtship-- fall in love with her again through flowers and dances and promenades.
He would call on her after tonight's Conservatory Ball. She was certain to be there. The scents that lingered on her were that of a dog, two older women (one of whom smelled familiar) and a younger lady, practically still a girl.
Her base scent was the same. His last memory of her had been the overwhelming stench of her burning body, but now that he had held her in his arms again, it was just the same.
The last time he'd courted her, it had been a swift and easy journey for them both to fall in love.
This time, thanks to his unfortunate behavior during their first meeting (though he did not regret any of it), he had a feeling she was going to make him work for it.
There was nothing he loved so much as a challenge.
--
"Didi?"
"Yes, Bon?"
"Who is that man staring at you?"
Kathani frowned and looked in the direction Edwina discreetly pointed.
She was not surprised it was him.
"I-- I don't know."
"That, is Viscount Bridgerton," Lady Danbury said with relish. "He usually attends to maintain appearances and keep good standing among the ton, but it seems you've caught his eye, Miss Sharma."
"I am not here looking for a match of my own, as I've said Lady Danbury. Do you think he would be a good match for Edwina?"
"Didi, I don't think he's interested in me at all," her sister giggled. "He's coming towards us now."
"Lord Bridgerton, how good of you to show your face tonight," Lady Danbury said with raised eyebrow and a smirk.
"I would not think to miss the first ball of the season, Lady Danbury."
He was really much too charming for his own good.
"I see my nephew isn't in attendance."
"Hastings asked I send relay his apologies. Augie has not been feeling well, of late."
"Hmm, I'm sure," she replied, clearly not buying what Simon was selling.
"Lady Danbury, might I ask for an introduction?"
"I would be delighted. Allow me to introduce to you Lady Mary Sharma and her two daughters: Miss Sharma, and Miss Edwina Sharma. They are my special guests for this season."
"Lady Mary, Miss Sharma, Miss Edwina," he bowed. "Miss Sharma, might I claim your next dance?"
"My Lord, I am--"
Lady Danbury tapped her cane against Kathani's ankle ominously.
"You may, my Lord."
He was far too pleased as he led her to the dance floor.
"I would like you to know, I am only dancing with you out of duress."
"So long as you are dancing with me, I don't mind the circumstances."
"You seem surprised."
"You used to be a terrible dancer-- stepped on my toes all the time."
"Used to be?"
"Four hundred years ago. It made for a most trying courtship."
"Is that what you're doing now? Courting me?"
"There's nothing else I'd rather be doing at this very moment."
"Your delusions make it difficult to take you seriously."
"I am confident I shall exceed the amount of proof required to convince you of my claims."
"Then why not provide that proof now?"
"There are certain precautions which must be taken. Though I'm relieved Lady Danbury is your sponsor-- it will make everything easier."
"What do you mean?"
"That is for me to keep secret and you to discover. You shall have to ask her directly."
"Ah, I see."
"You see?"
"I have already discerned your secret: Lady Danbury is a dragon disguised as a human."
He laughed-- she grudgingly conceded it was a pleasant sound.
"If that is what you think."
"You are the one who claims we were married four hundred years ago."
"It is not a claim, it is a fact. As for Lady Danbury, I only ask you inform her of your discovery whilst I am present."
"You would be quite handsome if you weren't so clearly delusional."
"I learned my lesson from our first courtship-- it's best to be honest from the beginning, even if you don't believe me."
"To be fair, you were covered in blood."
"What?" he stared at her, shocked.
"What?"
"Say it again."
"Say what again?"
"What you just said."
"I said you would be handsome if you weren't delusional."
"No, what you said after that."
"I didn't say anything after that."
"You-- you said," he frowned, scrutinizing her carefully.
She was not feigning her lapse in memory; she genuinely did not know what he was referring to.
He knew what he'd heard. His heart soared, once again, at the possibility.
"My Lord?"
"Yes?"
"Are you well?"
"Perfectly," he smiled, pulling her close.
She did not protest; in fact, she seemed to relax into his hold.
"I am perfectly well, my love."
That she did not protest his use of the endearment only encouraged him further.
This would be a thrilling courtship indeed.
--
"Anthony, what a surprise. I thought you were to breakfast at Bridgerton House," Daphne said, a copy of Whistledown displayed prominently on the table.
"She remembers."
"Kathani remembers? You told us yesterday she didn't recall your past at all."
"It's buried deep."
"How do you know?"
"She told me of a memory, then forgot she'd told me. Have you heard of anything like it?"
"No, nothing at all. Are you certain it's not coincidence?"
"No, it was specific. She remembered how she discovered I was a vampire," Anthony said, over the moon.
Daphne, on the other hand, winced. What followed that discovery was one of the worst displays of Anthony's infamously terrible communication skills. She and Simon had really thought Siena taught Anthony a lesson regarding the importance of honesty in a relationship, only for Anthony to take away the exact opposite lesson and almost lose his twin flame right before he'd planned to propose.
He'd gotten better, though it took centuries. It was only after he became Head of Coven that he took the lessons to heart.
Granted, he was never honest or communicative with Violet, but they simply didn't get along; the difference in age and culture was too great. Even Daphne had trouble with the Englishwoman. Her insistence on a Certain Way of Doing Things was extremely tiresome.
Covens did not survive by clinging to outdated traditions-- they survived by adapting to their surroundings.
Speaking of adapting to surroundings:
"Anthony, you must be a bit more discreet."
"Whatever for?"
Daphne looked pointedly at Whistledown.
"The scribbler has always written about me, there's no difference here."
"Anthony, Maria has written to me to warn me that she has seen old copies of the scandal sheet on the Continent."
He froze.
"How old?"
"An incomplete set of last season. But you must be careful, especially since you kept the name Bridgerton, and Kathani has the same name."
"Camilla can't possibly think--"
"She has been obsessed with you since you and Simon joined her coven."
"Simon and I never joined, we never took the oaths--"
"Don't be obtuse. You know the oaths stopped mattering when Simon married me. The two of you are sire-blood brothers."
"That's not how it works," he began pacing, agitated.
"She doesn't care how it works. Anthony, you need to be careful."
"You're right," he said, jaw set in determination. "Or perhaps I should just find this Whistledown and--"
"No, it's not worth the risk and you know it."
"Where is Simon?"
"Calling on Lady Danbury."
"I should join him, then."
"Anthony, wait. There's one more thing you need to consider."
"I will be careful. I won't let our coven or Kathani come to harm, I promise you."
"I believe you. But," she bit her lip. "You need to think about the possibility of turning her."
"No."
"Anthony--"
"She wants children Daph. We discussed it for months."
"We don't know if Camilla has more Prometheus Fire, Anthony. If she uses it twice-- there are no stories of souls coming back from suffering that agony a second time."
Dread filled Anthony's soulless soul.
"The flame and branch are extinguished once it's used."
"Would you really put it past her to find another branch?"
"You mean to say she knows where the tree is?"
"I don't know, but it's something you must consider."
"Why has Hastings gone to visit Danbury? It's nine o'clock in the morning."
"To devise a plan to mitigate this gossip sheet. I've already bought as many copies as possible, but at least one will make it to the Continent-- hopefully Camilla won't see it."
"Thank you."
Daphne took his hand.
"You would do-- you have done-- the same for us. We look out for each other."
"And Danbury?"
"To draw attention away from Kathani. Danbury is quite adept at creating gossip."
"I'm well aware. What kind of scheme did you have in mind?"
"There's always plenty of gossip once the Queen names her Diamond."
"It would be a great boon for Miss Edwina to be named the Diamond."
"And expose Kathani to all the eligible bachelors in London?"
"You're right, completely unsuitable."
"Simon and I may attend some balls to demonstrate our favor for Miss Edwina. It will hopefully also obscure your courtship, since Simon was wise and did not keep Hadrian. Why on earth did you keep Bridgerton?"
"I became used to it," Anthony lied.
They both knew the truth: it was because Bridgerton was the only thing he had left of Kathani. Berbrooke had burned down the house and everything in it-- there was nothing left of her for Anthony to remember her by. Anthony couldn't bear to part with the name.
"Are you going to call on her today?"
"Yes. I am sensible of the dangers, but you know I need to show her my interest is sincere. That means calling on her the night after the ball."
"She hasn't changed, has she."
"She's the same Daph. She's exactly the same," he said with awe.
"I'm happy for you, Anthony."
"Daphne?" Simon asked from the hallway.
"In here."
"Ah, Anthony. Just the man I was looking for."
"Visit went well?"
"Very."
"Anything important I should know?"
"You certainly made an impression."
"Excellent."
Simon shook his head and grinned. It had been very long since he last saw this side of Anthony.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to send flowers if I'm going to call on her."
"Tulips," Simon told him loudly.
"Tulips?"
"Tulips."
"Tulips it is, then."
"What color are you getting?" Daphne asked, her hand slipping into her husband's.
"Orange, of course. That's her favorite."
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specialagentlokitty · 2 months
Text
Rosita x sibling!reader - we got each other
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Hi! I saw that you have opened requests for TWD characters. Could I request a story where the reader is Rosita’s sibling, who (I have two ideas for the character; please pick which one you think is best ❤️) either gets taken by the Saviors like Darryl, and Rosita saves them and helps them with the aftermath - or one where the reader and Rosita reunite after a long time of being separated? - Anon💜
You had never stopped searching for your sister, not since you had lost her at the start of this all, because you knew she would be alive somewhere.
If you had to spend your whole life searching the whole country up and down then you did, because at this point you didn’t have anything to lose.
There was nothing.
No home. No job. No bills to stress about.
It was like freedom with a heavy price, the price of the dead wondering around, the the price that you hadn’t seen Rosita in so long you weren’t sure where she would even be.
Standing by the side of the road you looked at the map in your hand and sighed, stuffing it back into your pocket at looked around.
You decided to just follow the road, see where it was going to take you since you were bound to come across a town or something which you could hold up in for a few days rest.
Pulling your hat a little further down so you could block the sun from your eyes, and you squinted a little as you saw figures in the distance.
Reaching into your bag you pulled out some binoculars and looked to see it was a small group of people and a few horses.
“Well shit..” you whispered.
They were walking towards you, so you stuffed your binoculars away and your hand hovered over your gun.
You kept walking, and you could tell they noticed you by the way they got ready to grab their weapons and you stopped.
“Who are you?” You called.
“You first!” A man snapped.
He was aiming a crossbow at you.
“Nah, I asked first.”
Another man walked in front, raising both his hands, gesturing for his friend to back down a little.
“We mean no harm, we’re just travelling. That’s all. I’m Rick, what’s your name?”
You studied him for a moment.
“You a cop?”
“How’d you know?”
“Cop recognises cop. I’m (Y/N).”
You relaxed a little bit still didn’t move your hand, letting Rick know that you were ready to use it if it came to it.
He did the same thing, letting you see that his people were also armed and ready to attack if you tried to attack them.
“A lotta shit there for a small group, you got more people?”
“Sorry, I can’t tell you that. We’re not sure if you’re with another group.” Rick said.
“Well, seems we’re at a crossroad then, because I’m not moving, but I ain’t telling you shit about me either.”
“Want to tell us why you’re out here?”
You thought for a moment.
You hadn’t seen people in a long while, and knowing your sister she would’ve done the smart thing and gathered with a group.
“I’m reaching for a photo, don’t shoot.”
You reached into the pockets of your jeans and pulled out a photo, walking over to Rick and you held it out the him.
It was folded in half to hide you on the other side, and you showed him the woman.
“You seen her?”
“Who is she to you?”
“Have you see her?” You pressed.
Rick gestured to the photo then to his people.
“May I?”
You nodded your head, letting him take it and he walked over to the others where they had a hushed conversation.
A few of them glanced over at you, and a woman walked over.
“How many walkers have you killed?”
“What is this? An interrogation? I don’t know. Lost count.”
“How many people have you killed?”
“Two.”
“Why?”
“They were bit.”
She turned to Rick, and Rick gave a nod of his head and walked back over, placing his hand on the woman’s shoulder.
He handed your photo back to you.
“We know where your sister is.”
“How’d you know she was my sister?”
Rick smiled, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a photo just like yours.
“Rosita gives it to someone who’s going out just in case they come across you. Let me introduce you to everyone.”
There was a few minutes of introductions before they began to move again, and you were walking alongside of them.
They told you about how they came to meet your sister, and that she was alright, and as you got closer to their community you felt yourself growing nervous.
It had been a while since you had been around people, so knowing that just beyond those gates was even more people made you uncomfortable.
You flinched a little as they creaked loudly, the gates slowly opening, and you were led inside where you just stood awkwardly to the side.
Michonne stood next to you.
“Has it really been that long since you saw Rosita?”
“We had an argument before this started, I decided to leave. Then the world went to shit.”
“And you’ve spent all these years trying to find her?”
“She’s my sister, my family, course I have.”
She smiled, gesturing behind you and you turned around.
You both just stared at one another, and you slowly set your bag on the ground, giving a little smile.
“Hey…”
Rosita walked over, and she stood in front of you, not saying a word.
You noticed a small scar on her face, and you frowned a little bit.
“You been causing shit?”
“Shut up.”
She pulled you in for a hug and you laughed, hugging her back tightly, letting tears fall from your eyes.
“You’re a fucking idiot…” you whispered.
You held her hit your back.
“You’re the dumbass who ran away…”
Pulling back, you nodded your head, running a hand down your face in order to wipe your tears.
“Yeah, I know…”
“Come on.”
Rosita grabbed your bag, leading you away from all the prying eyes that were watching the pair of you and she took you somewhere quiet.
She set your bag down in her room, and you sat down against the wall while she sat down on the bed.
“Looks like you got a pretty cozy place here.”
“Yeah, ain’t bad really. A good group of people.”
You nodded your head, taking the photo out of your pocket in order to look at it.
Rosita watched your for a moment, not really sure what to say.
You had both been looking for each other for so long, she had given up, but you? You kept going, you kept looking for her and she began to feel regret.
Getting up, she walked in front of your and sat down.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t look for you…” she whispered.
You just smiled, that same smile you would always give her whenever she did something stupid when you guys were kids.
You reached out, placing your hand on her head.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you found a place to stay safe, and people to look after you.”
Rosita moved over, sitting next to you so she could lay her head on your shoulder, and you held her hand tightly.
“Don’t leave…” she whispered.
“I’m not…”
Rosita was beyond excited to show you everything she had been doing here at Alexandria, she wanted you to love the place like she did.
Whether it was the people, or the things they were trying to do she wanted to show you how worth it it was, and she wanted you to stay.
“Rosita?”
She hummed a little bit.
You reached out and lightly back handed her stomach.
“Wanna go kill some dead fuckers?”
“Oh fuck yeah.”
You both jumped up, grabbing your weapons and you ran out of the house with her on your heels, turning it into a race.
Because everything was a competition between siblings, especially in the middle of the apocalypse
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trashland-llamas · 6 months
Text
Draconic
Written as a part of the Alternative Universe Exchange on dreamwidth
AO3 link
Word count; 1,476
-- -- --
Niki had been foraging in the forest, looking for berries when she came across the clearing. Gasping, she hid behind the trees, glancing at the white winged mass in the center. Its wings obscuring any attempted view of its face. Hearing a few cooing sounds, Niki stalked forward, keeping low to ground like Techno taught her. As the branches snapped under her feet, the dragon peeked from behind its wings. Emitting an apprehensive growl. Despite her best judgment Niki continued to come closer to it. 'Just a little guy, aren't you?' She asked, her hand reaching up to pet it when it suddenly sneezed, releasing a purple fireball. Niki jumped back out of harm's way. 'Bless you.' Giggling as the dragon ran up to her, nuzzling its head into her side as an apology. The dragon shadowed her as she continued foraging. A basket full of mushrooms and herbs as she made her way back home. 'Sorry bud, but you have to stay here.' Hearing its whine, 'I'll be back tomorrow, promise!'  
She keeps her promise, returning the next day with a basket filled with a variety of food. 'Okay, I don't know what a dragon eats so I bought some stuff for you to try.' Grabbing the chunk of venison, she'd gotten from the butcher's. 'This cost me a pretty penny, please try not to scarf it down whole.' The dragon slobbered all over her hand, tilting its head when she wiped it off her skirt. Glad it wasn't a bright color. Pulling out her journal, she crossed out the foods it reacted negatively towards. Those being the ones it barely touched or put its nose in the air at.  
Continuing her work at the bakery, visiting the dragon she'd named Delphi when she could. Niki saved enough money to commission a harness from the blacksmith akin to that used for a horse. Receiving an odd glance at the measurements and the rough blueprints she supplied. They did not care enough to question it as money was money. Paying half upfront and the rest once it was finished. Niki excitedly rushed to the clearing, 'Delphi! I have a surprise for you.' Her voice singsong. Delphi's nose sniffled along the silver buckles and leather saddle. Her purchases perplexed everyone in the surrounding village. Buying what looked to be winter apparel when it was still late summer. But if she were to ride with Delphi, she'd need apparel to counter any possible windburn as that'd be harder to explain.  
Philza, unlike Niki, had known his dragon since birth. Watching the little egg hatch over the warmth of the fire as a teenager, naming the little guy Pebble. The dragon grew along with Phil's growth spurts, shedding its skin each time. Its scales a fluorescent green color. Living life as a farmer, Philza had to find ways to keep Pebble from destroying his crops and eating all of his chickens. 'Did you try guarding geese?' He had been asking around, it wasn't until he was at a library that a pink haired man interrupted him asking the umpteenth clerk. 'Uh, no, I hadn't. Why geese?' The man, he later found out, was named Techno. His wealth of knowledge comes from his obsessive potato farming. 'Well, it's what people use for other predators towards chickens. Might even work for dragons.'  
'How is it that geese scare you but not thunder?' Scratching Pebble's scruff as he talked. Receiving a huff of air at his question. 'You helping plow the fields or you gonna sit here and sulk?' Phil grabs a makeshift rein and collar before attaching it to the steel plow's beam. Directing it in a straight line as it broke up the soil, he planned on growing carrots, turnips, and radishes. Stuff that he could trade Techno with for his potatoes. When the day's work was done, Phil watched as Pebble gilded above him while he sat on his porch. 'You finally tucker yourself out?' Scolding it for its attempts to sneak a sip of his ale, Phil walked with it towards the shed where it slept. Occasionally, Pebble would coax Phil into cuddling with it throughout the night. To which he'd internally cuss himself out after waking up with a crick in his neck. Cracking his back as the morning sun crept in.  
'I promise I'll fly with you again one day.' Sighing as he knew this time of day was when Pebble loved to fly the most. The glare Pebble gave silently saying that it wasn't getting any younger. 'Okay, okay. We'll go next week, right after the market. That way you can have a snack as well.'  
Ranboo's dragon was barely a young-ing when he found it in the end. When they'd decided to go with Tommy and Tubbo to fight the ender dragon, he didn't expect to come back with an orphaned dragon. Rifling through the singed chests on the perch where the parent ender dragon once stood. Naming the dragon 'Jane' after the name he found on a discarded collar. It scales a deep lavender color, two legs instead of four. Resting on their shoulder, matching pinch pricks in his shirt as he carried it home. ‘Hey, hey, don’t burn the house down. I kinda need my deposit back.’ The dragon tilted its head at him as he quickly stomped out the mini fires.   
Ranboo later moves to a lot that has more room for the two of them. It’s rundown and in need of severe repairs but at least there’s enough room for the two of them and a nearby dragon community nearby. It’s where he meets Philza, the older noticing they are barely able to carry a pile of wood. ‘Here, let me help.’ Looking at his abode, Phil notices that Ranboo obviously has no clue what they’re dealing with. The wood would be used to rebuild the shingles and chimney. Phil enlists Techno’s help, knowing that he could add some brawns to their operation. The duo swiftly takes him under their wing, wondering why someone so young was living on their own. Not that it was uncommon to see but usually there’d be mini clans made of latchkey kids–found families even.   
‘And where have you been?’ Ranboo asks after noting Jane gone for hours of the day, hopefully making friends. Scratching the scales on the top of its head as it panted like a puppy. Tired out after hours of tag with Pebble and Delphi, not that Jane knew their names. Ranboo learns of this when he runs into Niki after buying bread from her, too lazy to make it himself. ‘Do you happen to own a purple dragon?’ Nodding, she continues, ‘Well then, it’s good to meet the owner of the dragon that’s become such good pals with Delphi.’   
Techno had lived entrenched in a dragon based society before leaving to explore the world outside of it. Part of this society’s norms included keeping a small braid starting at the base of his skull that would act as a tether to the dragon. A neural network of sorts that activated after their first flight together. Before leaving, they had him connect his braid to the one on a navy blue dragon. It was successful and Techno never looked back. He had settled down in an arctic village that had a lofty library with all the books he could ever need. Reading all that they had on dragons and then periodically venturing to other libraries to find more. He named his dragon Nidhogg after the dragon in Norse mythology that gnawed at the roots of the world tree, Yggdrasil. A fitting name as it ate everything in sight.  
It wasn’t until years later that he ran into Phil in his attempts to stop his own dragon from destroying his crops. A problem similar to the one he’d experienced with Nidhogg when first settling in. Techno had no clue what he was doing and had even lost full acreages of crop. The soil wasn’t nutrient enough to withstand the crops, so he had to plant cover plants; cereal rye and oats. Rotating the fields once the problem was fixed. Learning most of this from the woman that ran the local bakery, Niki.   
Through Philza, he met Ranboo, a teenager trying to make his own. Techno gave Ranboo his address, telling him if there were any new leaks or broken fixtures, to come get him. He’d fix it free of charge. Noting the dragon out front of Ranboo’s house, he nudged his dragon to befriend it as even dragons become lonely when not amidst their own species for too long. It all happened subtly to the point he wasn’t aware these three individuals dubbed him a friend until he came down with a cold and found them all knocking on his door. 
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leakingoven · 1 year
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i have to immortalize this on the internet: ok so there's me as a kid, transient youth from indigenous spaces, and the ONLY knowledge i have of insects and bugs are from the ones i've met face-to-face. these are given regional names and easy-to-use labels, like huntsman spider (not a spider, definitely not a huntsman classified spider which is in australia not a north american trailer park) or chigger (offensive title?? WHO KNOWS?) or deer fly or HORSE fly, and yeah some of these sound obvious and generally accepted nicknames BUT Y'ALL I WAS TODAY YEARS OLD WHEN MY PARTNER RESOLVED THE ARGUMENT I'VE BEEN HAVING WITH AN ENGLISHMAN FOR THIRTEEN YEARS okay so we had a type of spider that 1) ate dead bugs and would nibble your scab'n'sunburn peel collection so you had to really clean your house to keep them from showing up and 2) DRANK YOUR BLOOD. as in, bit you for food. could give you a pretty gnarly infection. this monster was, is, pus colored and spider-shaped. it looks like it should glow in the dark but does not. it spins little silky hovels to hide in the corners of walls or in the folds of your clothing and bedding, it is nasty and harmful to ppl and pets and definitely does not help out in the food chain as like you expect a spider would -- we called them hobo spiders or recluse spiders, and they weren't THEY WEREN'T EVEN PARTNER TOLD ME THEY WEREN'T EVEN SPIDERS SO I WAS LIKE NUH-UH YOU ARE NOT PULLING AN ENGLISH DUDE ARGUMENT ON ME RIGHT HERE IN MY OWN CARDBOARD BOX AND SHE LIKE rescued me THEY WERE MITES PREHISTORIC MOTHERFUCKING MITES THE SIZE OF YOUR GRANDMA truly there is no such thing as a technical spider who drinks human blood for fun and profit because the thing the size of an impressively large spider, that moved like a spider, spun a tunnely web like a spider, which we were calling a spider, was a GODDAMN MITE
recluse spiders are a real thing too just we labeled our spidermimic mites that because of how bad their bite wounds could get; they aren't brown recluse but they are, like, the gnasty komodo dragon version of dust mites like please vacuum your home they eat dead skin and hair shed too.
the moral of the story is, like, shutup academia, your mom goes to college. if we say there's a flesh-eating spider in the neighborhood do you argue its taxonomy or do you decide to use that energy instead to vacuum your goddamn trailer.
(still calling it a spider, cos ur not the cops of me) anyways we also APPARENTLY never had 'moccasin' snakes because THAT regional nickname got HAMMERED DOWN in privatized academia for like ONE SINGLE TYPE OF SNAKEBRO IN THE SOUTH and you're not allowed to use that name anymore ?? but like we call them moccasin snakes because of the beading and still treat them like poison (venomous) snakes because they are... poison. YES WE ARE STILL GOING TO CALL THEM POISON BECAUSE THE WORD IS EASIER TO SAY AND HEAR THAN 'VENEMOUS' WHICH IS NOTHING BUT A TERRIBLE SIDE-HELPING OF WHISPERY DICKSQUAT WITH THAT MAIN COURSE OF WAY TOO MANY FUCKING SYLLABLES FOR THE LANGUAGE ECONOMY WE'RE IN RN OR JUST SHUTUP MAYBE oooo here we are, existing nowhere near the ocean, calling our snapping turtles leatherbacks on account of them having leathery backs, drinking educated anglo tears with every regional transgression we commit with their own language BETCHA WISH YOU HADN'T TRIED TO STANDARDIZE TRIBES INTO OBLIVION NOW HUH anyway SOME 'anti-intellectualism' is just the workingclass trolling you about your weird invisible language rules in the ol' corn colonies and the hangups and legit stress that it manifests in you. chill out, words change, if you understood what i meant when i was talking then why are you asking me to say it again but in collegianese. are you going to teach me the collegianese, for free, like are those 'corrections' behind a pay wall? cool, my partner helped me that way about the FUCKING NOT SPIDERS, MITES, I AM STILL THRASHING and guess what i'm still calling it a spider because that's what my regional community knows it as and now we BOTH GET TO LEARN NEW THINGS, HOORAAY like now i also get to help my english friend understand just how big mites can apparently fucking get, and, hopefully, also help my academic friends understand workingclass diaspora communication techniques (and how you are absolutely the asshole if you're using your access to information as a blunt force weapon to try and make other people sound like you when they speak).
like i see your accusations of anti-intellectualism over slangs and common nouns and raise you a : anti-colonialism in community languages instead. like REAL anti-intellectualism tells us that KNOWING SHIT is wrong or dangerous, so we stop asking questions like 'why is this word being used differently by this person' and instead default to just assuming they're dumb or beneath us (or are trying to annoy us, or being stubborn, or oppositional).
if you are an extreme snob about certain academic things it is likely that you are also very vulnerable to anti-intellectualist tactics, despite your effort to build a personality around bein' real smart. intellectualism isn't a concrete database of All The Best Facts that you get to win at, it is instead a DISCIPLINE in ASKING QUESTIONS and you only win by finding the confidence to admit your ignorance.
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