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passivenovember · 2 months

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Someone says Billy might be in there, and that's all it takes to snap Steve's resolve in two like a pathetic, gnawed-on piece of red vine.

Billy might be in there, Nancy says.

It's strange when it claws out of her, choked and desperate because they're running out of time, some. Huge, old, fuckin', annoying clock ticking away someplace, deaf to be heard. But felt. Like five knuckles to the stomach.

Nancy's got mud on her cheeks. Blood crusting brown at the corner of her nose and fear glittering like shards of mirrorball in both eyes. Blue. Steve used to obsess over that shade, until.

Billy. Who burned the rest of the world to the ground. Who changed water and sky and moonlight and lake fronts forever. For Steve. Billy--

Who might be down there.

Steve peers at the soft current of the lake, rippling with tabs of stardust. Billy's dead, Steve remembers suddenly. They told him he was dead because he couldn't see through the cloud of black-cat gun powder that night the bottom fell the fuck out. They told Steve everyone was better off, they buried what was left of his body and they moved on. Everyone.

Steve didn't cry at the funeral. Couldn't. He promised Billy that he never would, not. In front of Neil Hargrove, not in front of anyone, so.

Billy might be in there.

Steve can't blame them as the boat rocks, gentle as the tick-tick of time pressing on, when no one moves.

Steve, Nancy says.

He looks at her, taken aback by the shock on her face. What are you doing, she says. But Steve isn't listening. His shirt dangles from her fingertips, a white flag. A death shroud.

Steve doesn't remember taking it off. He opens his mouth. Shuts it.

Eddie Munson looks at him with the kind of sharp, resigned knowing that makes Steve shrug. Clear his throat. Say, If I'm not back in two minutes, jump in after me.

Steve, Nancy says. Small and afraid, You can't go in. You're--

--Billy's in there, Steve snaps. No might. Leaving no room for argument. He can feel it, like that big clock in the sky, ticking.

Billy's in there, so Steve jumps.

Somewhere, in sudden, churning darkness

his skin starts to burn.

Something hits him, right under his temple. On his cheek bone. It sticks too the tacky landing of his skin and then falls.

Not. To the ground, Steve doesn't think. To the lakebed.

Into some great, terrible void that waits to swallow him whole because it has no teeth. No edge. No suffering.

"You're starting to burn," Someone tells him.

Steve jerks awake, eyes slamming into a bright blue sky. "Sorry," He says. "I fell asleep. I thought--"

"--You're gonna catch on fire."

Trees, nodding in the warm exhale of some far-away afternoon spring from the centerfold of himself. He's getting a sunburn but there's a tube of banana boat sunscreen on the beach towel next to him, hot to the touch.

"Did you throw that at me?" He demands. Steve's naked from the waist down. Flat on the earth, suddenly. Flat on a beach towel, gritting black sand into Miss Universe, '84's shiny blue one piece. He's seen this towel, before.

"You've gotta put it on," The voice says, "You don't have much longer."

Steve sits, blinking into the sunlight.

He's at the quarry. He's been here before.

"Who are you?" He asks.

The earth seems to exhale. Far below, laughter climbs the rocky face of memory. Steve hears children, playing. His children. Dustin's voice tugs at him. His heart. His mind.

Billy's in there--

"I'm looking for someone," Steve says, but he doesn't turn from the treeline. Doesn't peer below, either. Doesn't move. "I. I think I lost him. I haven't seen him in a long time but I--"

"Don't worry about that."

"I worry," Steve reports, but it feels like a lie. He considers the banana boat sunscreen but can't reach for it, afraid of what might happen if he sinks into its release.

The children keep laughing, far below, and Steve thinks he's seen this blue before. This shade. This sky.

"I don't want you to get sunburned," The voice tells him. Closer. Near enough that the breath from its lungs stirs the hair on Steve's head. Just out of eyesight. "You always look like shit when you're burned up."

"I was wondering if you could help me."

"You're gonna turn red, pretty boy. A fuckin' lobster."

Steve gasps. His heart shudders. Stops.

Stops beating.

Steve swallows. "I'm looking for someone," He says. Not particularly inclined to tear his eyes away from the peaks and valleys of the hill that grinds, pestle, all around him. He's safe. Nestled into the end. "Please, I. I think I lost him. I've been trying to find him for a long time but he's--"

"Hiding," The voice says.

Someone sits next to him in the sand. Naked from the waist down, golden.

Sunlight. Flame. The dawn.

Steve looks at him. "Billy," He says. Or maybe he doesn't. The word comes from everywhere, like springtime rolling over the earth. Flowers blooming and withering all at once.

"You don't have much longer," Billy stretches out along the beach towel, red trunks coated in dark black sand. "You're burning up. Why don't you go back?"

Steve remembers this.

Asking if there was an extra towel, if Billy wanted this one, why Billy gave it to him in the first place--

"Because I want to be with you," Steve says. Like Billy had said, then. That day at the quarry before. This and them and everything. It had opened a whole universe for them. It had changed everything and now Steve holds his breath, wondering if it will again.

Below, the children keep laughing.

"Billy," Steve says, because it tastes good. Like lemonade and iced tea. And cotton candy at the county fair. And cigarettes at midnight. And pancakes, burned by the man he--

"Look at me," Steve says.

Billy's hair billows, golden in the breeze. "I can't."

"Why?"

"You stare at me with those fuckin' eyes and," Billy shakes all over, "I'll get selfish. Ask you to stay."

"Don't have to ask," Steve tells him, rooted to Miss Universe '84. "I'm not going back."

"Yes you are."

"I can't live without--"

"Jesus Christ, would you listen to this bullshit? We sound like a play about star crossed losers, and not a good one, either." Billy sits up straight, tucking his hair behind his ears. "It's cliche. Don't say shit like that."

Steve swallows. "It's true."

"I know, pretty boy."

"So then why can't I stay with you?"

"Because it's not your time yet," Billy says, finally, finally looking at him. Eyes blue like the sky.

Steve exhales, watching as the earth moves with him. "Now who's cliche?"

Billy laughs, and.

Steve must crumble. Must catch on fire. Must make up his mind because he breaks.

"Don't cry," Billy tells him, weakly, "Harrington--"

"--I'm not going back unless you come with me."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm dead," Billy tells him, turning in the sand until their knees press together. Solid and warm.

Alive.

"I'm not in the lake, sweetheart. I know you want me to be, but I'm not." Steve sobs. He can't help it, can't stamp it down, it slithers out of him with its fangs bared, full of fear and poison. It must get Billy in the heart. Must kill him a second time because Billy grabs at Steve, clutching Steve's face between his hands. "Hey, none of that, now--"

"--I'm sorry, Billy. So fucking sorry--"

Billy scrubs the tears away. "It's not your fault. Sometimes," Billy says, tugging fingers through Steve's hair, "Sometimes shit just happens, and people die, and it's a normal part--"

"--Nothing's normal anymore," Steve snaps, "I don't even know what normal looks like. And. Even before everything, before that night, I just. Something happened to me," Steve commit's the feeling of Billy's thumbs, rubbing circles into his sadness, to memory. "You happened to me, Billy."

The children aren't laughing, anymore. The sun dips low in the sky.

Billy turns from him, eyes scanning the treeline, "You don't have much longer, sweetheart."

"I'm not going back."

"You have to. I'm not arguing with you. This isn't a discussion." Billy says. Horrible and empty.

Steve snaps. "What, are you going to force me back into my body? Possess me like some fucking, ghost asshole and make me swim back to the surface?"

Billy blinks at him, shocked.

"That's where I am, right? Drowning at the bottom of the goddamn lake?"

Billy's face cracks open. "I can't watch you die."

"I watched you die."

"Bullshit," Billy says, "You couldn't see through the smoke--"

"--I love you," Steve says. Because it's simple. True. "And you love me."

Billy holds him tighter. Closer. "I know, baby."

"So let me stay here," Steve says. Holding on just as tight. Just as hard. "Let me come with you, and we can--"

"You have so much life stretching out in front of you, baby. So much love just. Fuckin' waiting for you."

"I don't care."

"You're going to have a family," Billy says, voice shaking, "You're going to meet someone. They're so good to you, I can. I feel it. Like sunlight," Billy blinks, lashes clumped with tears, "No. You already know him. Just met him."

"I don't want anyone else," Steve snaps, desperate. Wishing he could peel Billy's skin from the bone and sew himself up inside. Live there forever and ever and--

"I can't love anyone else, Billy."

"Yes you can," Billy says. "You will."

"What about," Steve asks, clutching Billy closer, "What about you?"

Billy smiles sadly. "I'm not going anywhere. Your whole life, I'll be here. I'll be waiting for you."

The sun dips below the horizon. The world burns.

Steve runs out of time.

#harringrove #anyway #this came out of nowhere #and i got bored of hearing myself talk at the end #lmaooo

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divinedice · 2 months

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#d&d #dice #dungeons and dragons #tabletop #tabletop games #bastsdice

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 8 days

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Hello it's me again can I request the hlc students, professor and villians meeting THE VILLAIN AU of MC, (Mc is a dark entity who was stored under wookrook castle after the first ancient magic stop was open they let out !villain! Mc who's a 11ft entity who is sassy, manipulative, playfull/ Mc in this au plays a game with her victims if they lose they lose a limb if they win they get some power (btw this is a discarded au of mine Lol)

A/N: If I'm following your idea correctly, MC is not human but a dark entity that manifested inside the repository under Rookwood Castle? I can roll with that.

HLC REACT TO VILLIAN!MC

WARNING: angst,death, destruction, mayhem, evil!MC

RANROK: Finally. The Rookwood repository was unearthed. This one was the largest by far, he could practically smell the magic buzzing within its cage. In his haste, the magic beam from his hand killed a loyalist that didn't get out of the way fast enough. The repository shattered, releasing the large black and red mass of magic.

Something was different. The magic didn't automatically come to him. It didn't attach itself to his armor or go inside his body. Instead it writhed formless on the ground. He angrily shot another beam of magic, but it had no effect.

The magic did not come to him. Instead it started to rise. Higher and higher until the mass was near the height of the surrounding trolls. The magic swirled in place, gradually forming the silhouette of a human. Two exceptionally bright red lights glow where eyes would be.

The goblins behind him started to back up, looking to him for orders. He stared up at the unknown entity, unsure of the correct action. His magic had done nothing.

His hesitation was his downfall. The creature of undiluted dark magic simply pointed a finger at him and he felt as though his own soul was being ripped from his body. All the magic he had collected from previous repositories flew from him to the entity.

He fell dead while the entity seemed to grow stronger. Its form was more defined, more humanoid. The faceless head split across the front into a gnarled, chaotic smile.

VICTOR ROOKWOOD: He was outside Hogsmeade negotiating his next step with Harlow when the sky above went red. He pulls out his wand, thinking he's ready for what's about to come out of the sky when he sees it.

A large winged creature, not unlike a dragon, swooped down from above. A blast of dark and red energy came from the entity's hands and vaporized entire rows of houses. The protective barrier around Hogsmeade is entirely ineffective in stopping it.

He and Harlow try to flee, but the entity lands within feet of them. The weight of the creature shakes the earth and knocks them to the ground. He rolls onto his back and starts firing every destructive spell he knows, including the killing curse. His magic is merely absorbed.

A low shrill laugh pierces the air, he looks up in terror to see the sound coming from the entity standing over him. An impossibly tall humanoid figure with undefined features was staring down at him. They seem to be made of liquid chaos and fire, their skin constantly shifting and morphing. From the back came four large wings, like those of giant bats. They too seem to be constantly changing shape and definition.

The last thing he heard were his own screams as darkness descended upon him.

~~~

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: The school was in chaos. The alarm bells rang out as professors rushed to collect the students for emergency evacuation. He fought against the crowd to get to the nearest floo powder stantion. He needed to get to Feldcroft.

He nearly reaches one when the wall next to him blasts apart. He's thrown off his feet and half buried in rubble. His ears ring. The screaming of the students around him feel distant when he sees a horrific being approach him. It glares down at him curiously.

He couldn't reach for his wand, his arm was broken. The creature reached down towards him and he tries to shuffle away when he feels a slight tugging inside of his chest, like his own heart was trying to leave through his ribs. An oily black substance oozes from his skin, shining red like blood and he believes he's dying. But then...he feels nothing. Not fear, not anger, not pain. He doesn't need to go to Feldcroft. He doesn't need to do anything...he doesn't want anything.

He's left there in the rubble. The creature absorbed what they took from him and moved on through the school, heading downward.

OMINIS GAUNT: He's lost in the crowd and couldn't find Sebastian, no matter how many times he called. He's forcefully shoved through the hall and to an evacuation point. No matter how much he protested, he was floo-ed away without explanation of what was happening. The best he could tell was at the school was attacked by something. It had to be huge by the sounds of crashing and all the screaming. Whatever it was was horrible and he was slightly grateful he didn't have to lay eyes on it.

It's later he overhears people saying it's the end of the world. An unstoppable monster immune to magic was destroying the wizarding world as they knew it. He never heard from either of the Sallows. He doesn't know what to do or where to go. He's never felt so lost and alone in his life.

ANNE SALLOW: Her uncle rushed her away from Feldcroft without explanation. Only that it was urgent and they needed to leave the valley immediately. She asks repeatedly about Sebastian and Ominis but her uncle insists that the boys will be kept safe by the professors and likely taken to the ministry to be reunited with families.

She never sees her brother or her best friend ever again. No matter how much it hurts her, she screams and spits at her uncle for leaving Sebastian behind. Even if there was no time, he could have at least tried.

IMELDA REYES: She gets escorted away with other students and eventually gets back to her family. With them being well off, they could afford to flee the country. Not that it may matter in the long run. Any bit of news she could get her hands on, wizarding or muggle, talk of the end of days.

NATSAI ONAI: Brave soul that she is, she fights against the flow of panicked students to try and find her mother. She instead finds the monster cornering a group of second years. She casts at it, shouting for the young students to run, and gets the attention of the entity.

It stands to its full height, unfazed by her attempts to attack it. She stares back, showing no fear. The entity shows its horrible grin and echoed words, that sounded like screams of the damned, came from it. "You... look... fun..."

GARRETH WEASLEY: His aunt finds him before he knows what's happening. She shoves an old rag in his hands and he gets pulled away by it. The rag was a portkey back to his home. He sits on the floor, dumbfounded and confused. He doesn't get word until later at Hogwarts had been destroyed. Unknown casualties. He never saw his aunt again.

LEANDER PREWETT: He runs past the hall the monster is down. He only catches a glimpse of Natty in the monster's grasp, black magic being pulled straight out of her throat. He's in a blind panic for the nearest floo. Once he's on the other side of it, far from Hogwarts, he vomits on his own shoes.

AMIT THAKKAR, EVERETT CLOPTON: Both of them make it out together with many other students. The ministry had been alerted to the emergency and sending every auror they had to Hogwarts. The students being rushed in were collected in the main area around the fountain. They stayed together, trying to find comfort in their familiarity amongst the chaos.

POPPY SWEETING: Her only thought was to get home. Get back to her gran. They needed to- CRASH! The wall in front of her caved in as the entity came through it with another person. She didn't have to worry about her gran anymore. Or anything ever again.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: He sees the Onais with the monster. NATSAI was on the ground, Professor Onai standing numbly. He fires at the entity and distracts it. His magic doesn't seem to harm it, It just grins and rushes him. He gets shoved through the stone wall behind him. So many of his bones are broken, he can barely breathe. His suffering doesn't last long as the entity inhales and sucks the pain out of him, along with any energy he had left.

MATILDA WEASLEY: She is the one that raises the alarm. She witnesses the attack on Hogsmeade and rushes to get the emergency portkey for her nephew. If she could at least get one person out safely, it would be him. Seconds after he's gone, the ceiling above her collapses. The entity falls through the floor as it continues its destructive path to get to the repository it's senses beneath the school.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She's The first teacher to be evacuated out to the ministry to help guide the students and keep them together. Her voice is still calm and commanding as she tries to maintain order, but she feels the same dread and panic as the scared children around her.

AESOP SHARP: He actively pursues the entity. No matter how many times he fires at it, it doesn't seem to pay attention to him as he chases it through the halls. He and many aurors from the Ministry are the last ones on the grounds when the entity finally decides it's done playing and heads down to the caverns.

He sees it happen. The final transformation. When that thing absorbs every last drop of whatever magic was in the cage. Had no idea what it was or what was happening but it was bad. No matter what he threw at it, it just smiled. It looked at him and the others like they were curious insects.

To his surprise, the thing spoke to him, and it's awful voice. "Such suffering... I can taste it..." It raises one of its arms and he and all the aurors come off the ground. He struggles against the invisible force holding him, but to no avail.

Then he feels the tug in his chest. Black and red magic comes from his body, and the others, and is absorbed by the entity. When it was over, he did not care that he was falling head first to the ground. He didn't feel anything at all. Not even when his neck broke.

ABRAHAM RONEN: His class was one of the first destroyed in the attack. He and the students had no chance to defend themselves, not that there really was any way to defend themselves. For him, it was quick. Shards of glass and stone made for an unceremonious end.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She's at one of the evacuation points, getting students out. She sees the horrible thing come down the grand staircase and she stands between it and the students. The last thing she hears is it's terrible laugh as she and any students remaining have their pain removed.

MUDIWA ONAI: She finds the monster holding her daughter off the ground by her throat. She doesn't hear her own cries as her daughter falls limp to the floor with a sickening thud. She's too stunned to move. She doesn't even hear the entity's laugh as it rejoices in her pain.

BAI HOWIN: She goes through the floo after Kogawa to maintain order with the students they manage to get through to the Ministry. She is not, however, a steel willed as Kogawa so she's on the floor with her head in her hands.

DINAH HECAT: She manages to evacuate most of the defense against the dark arts tower before the monster comes stomping through. She tried to defend the floor the students were using to run, but it fired a black beam of magic and destroyed it. Her analytical eyes scanned the beast as she tried to figure out what it could possibly be. From her time as an unspeakable, perhaps this is an ancient beast that none have seen in centuries. She never figures it out, unfortunately. The monster feasts upon her pain.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He and the other ghosts are trying to Shepherd students to evacuation points. There's nothing he can do for them when the monster comes. Just watch as they become empty husks.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She makes it through a floo with her students. Only seeing two other professors and less than half the student body, the gravity of their situation hits her hard. One being, whatever it was, destroyed Hogwarts and most everyone in it in a matter of minutes. Not days, not even hours, but minutes. This was the end.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: The coward fled when the school was attacked. Abandoning his post and ruining his reputation in the process, but he did not care. Nowhere in the job description was he ever supposed to fight off demons from the darkest pit of hell.

~~~

MC: Oh, what fun they've had! The screaming, the crying, the pleading, the begging! The insurmountable amount of pain they got to experience! They never felt so alive! Now the largest repository of dark magic was theirs! All theirs! They pry the repository apart with their bare hands.

When they consume the magic, they undergo their largest and most drastic transformation. They more than double in size, being about the size of a giant. They grow another set of wings, more demonic seraphim in appearance, and grow another set of arms. Horns burst forth from their skull and another set of glowing red eyes blinks open.

They're horrible cackling laugh echoes from the depths of the crater that was Hogwarts. Everything the ministry tried to throw at them, were now dead and gone. The world was theirs.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #hogwarts legacy villians #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #garreth weasley #anne sallow #everett clopton #imelda reyes #leander prewett #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #villian!mc #angst #tw death

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hes-the-muse · 5 months

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'Immaculate Red'

ONE SHOT | IMMACULATE RED

[till masterlist] | [all muses]

Muse: Till Lindemann x f!reader (first person)

Rating: 18+ , smut Words: 5k Author: @thexhostess (Antonia) For @madhatter2727 credit: divider here by @saradika-graphics. Moodboard by @madhatter2727

Notes: A Till oneshot.

I'd love feedback on this from anyone in the Till fic fandom. Curious to see what you think and how many of you are out there.

Charred scent, black powder. Pomegranate seeds shimmering on the table. A feast for a king. Maybe a queen. The pyrotechnics echo with the charred grey dust as the smell of gunpowder is still floating in the air, occlusive and hot. Too hot and I sit to catch my breath. I close my eyes and rest. Then a weighted hand on my shoulder, gloved, black leather. I open my eyes to see slicked back white hair, black smoked liner, singed and melting around his eyes. He’s tall, a distinct presence.

‘Give me your hand’ he says.

It’s a statement not a question. German accent, thick, rolling. Cutting through the smoke, the strobe and fireworks. He’s taking me out of here. I have no choice. It’s him and me and he is possessive. He pulls me through locked steel doors and slim, dimly lit hallways where th heat gathers. Sparks, but not fireworks flash in front of my eyes. He senses my hand going weak in his, my steps slowing and not being able to catch up with him pulling me through the small building. The edges of my vision reduce every second, closing into the centre. Black with a window into the world. And before it closes, I feel his arm behind my knees and he’s lifting me. Up into his arms, whisking me down the halls and out into the biting Autumn air. I float until the black recedes, my vision restoring to full capacity and the air awakens me. I’m still floating, he hasn’t let me go. He hasn't set me down on the ground. I’m not on my feet.

I see the leaves above, dry and orange, browns and reds floating down one by one, sky clear and crisp, a sharp crispness in my airways. It makes me cough. I can focus enough to see that white hair in view, and then his eyes, full of concern and almost angry. Wide eyed but hard somehow.

‘You’re back, don’t worry you're back. You’re with me now.’ He strokes one side of my face with a black leather glove. He stops, leans in to check my face, asks me, ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes I think I am? Where are we? What happened? Who?’ I say.

‘You couldn’t be in there anymore. You were going to pass out, I couldn’t have that. I had to take you out.’ As the depth of his German accent sounds around me again, it feels like an impenetrable blanket, strong and soothing. The words flow as I listen and then I think I realise.

‘But Who? Till?’

‘Hi.’ He confirms quietly. ‘Yes, shhh.’ He strokes my hair with that gloved hand.

‘But Till is in there!’ I point towards the building. Then there is no building, no venue anymore.

‘He’s not in there. He left with you.’ He laughs.

‘Sorry, I don’t know where I am, I took a turn back there, I don’t feel so good. Who are you again? Can you take me back, I think I can go back in now, I’ll sit down. I’ll be fine.’

‘Shh, darling, don’t worry I will look after you.’

All I see are the Autumn leaves on the path, hear the heavy footsteps thumping on the earth and his long heavy coat swaying as he walks, carrying me.

He says, ‘Do you want to go back to see the end of the show?’

‘I do.’ I mumble.

‘Who were you there to see?’ he asks.

‘Rammstein, and they have to be finishing the show now, I might still make it, I could, maybe I could go back and meet them.’

‘Who do you want to meet?’ he asks.

‘Till.’ I say. ‘I might still have the chance, it’s their home show, maybe they will be hanging out after, it might not be too late.’ I protest.

‘Darling. The show was cut short.’

‘How do have know?’

‘Well, um, a pretty girl was ill, and everything had to stop.’ He says.

‘What.. no.’

He smiles through soft determined eyes, holding me tight.

‘I hate to tell you, you stopped it, but I’m serious about this, you had to be taken away from there.’

‘But why? I mean, you took me out, same as crowd surfers, they get taken out and the show goes on, don’t take me too far! The show is still going. The show doesn’t get stopped for one person! Who are you?’ I attempt to make sense of this situation.

He stops. Props me up on his shoulder. ‘Darling look at me. Look at me closely.’ He tells me.

I feel almost well enough to stop asking so many questions.

‘I, took you out of the show. And I, stopped the show myself. The show isn’t going ahead right now, because I left with you. To make sure you are alright. They can’t play the show without me.’ His eyes are very intense and he’s gazing onto my eyes.

‘Till? Till!’ I exclaim.

‘Yes,’ he laughs, ‘I’m Till. Don’t worry darling, you won’t miss the show. So tell me, how much do you think of meeting me? I’d love to know.’ He smiles a side smile.

‘I, I’m sorry.’ I say.

‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks quietly.

‘For sounding like an idiot, telling you all that.’

‘Don’t be, don’t be sorry.’ He whispers, his eyes focusing on mine.

‘Why?’ I ask.

He pauses, ‘Because I needed to make sure you are safe.’

‘Why did YOU help me? How could you leave? It’s not your job to..’

‘Oh it is, it is mine and mine alone. I had responsibility to see that your were alright, personally.’ He adds.

‘ I don’t understand.’

‘You’ve been to our shows before right?’

‘Of course.’

He smiles. ‘I know you have and I needed to be serious about this moment. If there’s ever something wrong, I will help.’

‘What do you mean? But we’ve never met.’ I say.

‘We have now.’ He has a curious longing look, a smile on his face.

He smiles and puts me down. My arms slide away from around the raised wool collar of his winter coat. Once my hazy vision and confusion has gone away, I see him now. Till Lindemann. He reaches out a gloved hand towards me, asking if I want to take it and go with him.

He’s careful, quiet. ‘I think I know who you are.’ He searches my eyes.

‘Well Till Lindemann, I hope you can get to know me.’

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s intently searching mine for something. I don’t know what it is. He’s waiting with his arm outstretched. I take his hand.

Over the crunching of the leaves and tapping on the cold ground, I hear the leather of his gloves creak and he turns to me. His voice, clear and deep, gentle, asks me something. He’s asking my name. I tell him. It rolls off his tongue like he already knew.

‘Are you OK with getting something to drink?’ he says.

‘Yes I could use it. Back at the venue?’

‘Take all the time you need. No, the show is already postponed for another night.’

‘But how?’

‘This rarely happens if ever, and it’s a special night.’ He looks over at me.

‘Look Till, I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me, for helping me, I don’t know what I would have done actually if it wasn’t for you, relied on someone else finding me when I had already fainted. I can’t believe you’ve come out here with me like this, and at the expense of your show. I really, appreciate it, but I’m going to have to go, I can't keep you any longer, I can’t have the show cancelled. Can you go back in there, I’m sure if you give them a good enough excuse, a circumstance, and they would be more than happy if you came back, especially now.’

‘Listen, if you’re not comfortable I can understand, but I’m here now. I’m not going back in there, I mean it.’ And then he looks stern, and leans in. ‘The real excuse is that’, and he leans closer still, and he whispers, and I barely hear him, but in my head he is clear and crisp and resonant, ‘the truth is that I’ve waited for you, and I have found you.’

He draws back and with that watchful gentle gaze smiles and knows that I heard him, but it didn’t seem like he spoke at all.

I follow him through woods where the earth is damper and the leaves are layered and decomposing. The scent of dead leaves and warmth of the leather makes me hold on. He has my hand grasped firmly in his. His grip is strong and I know he wouldn’t let me fall. Old keys rattle and he unlocks the log cabin nestled between woodland. He lights a fire in the traditional German stove. He makes us hot black tea. He pours mine with his gloves still on. I take my first sip, he brings me furs, wraps my knees in them. Sets up a seating area atop the stove where there is space to lie down to sleep. At last I see him take off his gloves. His hands are large, massive. The face of his watch seems gigantic and the wrist strap huge. He turns to me as I’m watching him, mesmerised by his hands. The fire dances off his irises, his hair tousled from carrying me, from climbing through the forest. He smooths it back. The kohl on his waterline arresting, gloomy in some ways. I see him with a kitchen knife, wooden handle well used and blade sharp.

‘This is for fruit.’ He cuts into the skin of a pomegranate, slicing it from crown to base, carving thirds into it. He peels back the red and yellow top layers, gets the pomegranate seeds with the knife, collecting them into a Czech crystal glass for me. Immaculate. Sparkling. The ruby red crimson drops onto the edges, covers the knifes blade, covers his fingers. He licks the remainder and he calls me by my name. I freeze. He hands me the crystal with ruby seeds. Gleaming like shimmering gems with the light of the fire.

‘Thank you..I haven’t eaten this fruit in a long time.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘I do.’

We sit in silence. And I notice more about him. His gestures are always gentle. His mannerisms and movements taken with a lot of care. He doesn’t scare me at any point. Even when I saw him with that knife.

‘Are you warm enough?’

‘Yes, it’s very cosy. Is this yours? Your cabin?’

‘Yes it is mine. We, I mean me and the guys sometimes come here to write. Or if I need the privacy. It’s nice to be here. It’s nice for you to be here.’

We stare at the fire. At the embers crackling.

‘Back then, when you said you wanted to get to know me, or, that you think you know who I am, what did have really mean?’

He looks round at me with those solid and contemplative eyes. They look like they want to tell me something he can’t say.

‘I mean that, I think I know you.’

I laugh and try to change the subject.

‘So tell me about your tour, has it been OK, aside from tonight, of course?’ I laugh nervously and clutch the crystal.

‘No really. May I?’ he perches ready to move.

‘Uh huh, yea.’ I say.

He moves closer, almost knee to knee with me. He holds his arms out on his knees, taps his watch face.

‘It’s been a long time since,’ he hesitates and wrings the wrist his watch is settled on.

‘No no, it can’t be a long time, I’m sure, well lots of fans are dying for your time. You know I’m not here for a fling. I don’t do that. I know you helped me tonight, but I can’t.. I can’t be here.’

He looks hurt.

‘I’m sorry I’m not trying to be rude, I don’t want to be, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression of me, and I’m sure you are busy, with the guys and the band and you know, considering I ruined your show. I’m grateful, but please I think I better go.’ I look up at him and set there crystal down.

‘Uh, ok at least let me take you back, I took you here, so let me walk you.’ Till offers.

‘Ok.’ I say quietly, embarrassed how that all came across.

‘He puts on my coat.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean you..’ I begin.

‘It’s OK’ he says. ‘I know how it seems, I’m glad you told me you’re not one of them.’

‘Can I?’ he says and takes my elbow to help me keep my balance.

‘What I do want to know is, when I’ve walked you home, will you be back?’ Tilting his head towards me as we walk he awaits my response.

‘Of course I will. I’m always at the shows.’

‘I know you come to shows, but will you come back to me? ’ he smirks.

I look over and don’t say anything. I want to come back to him, but I don’t know if I should. He lets me leave his side and walk to my door, but I still have not replied. He picks up my arms and kisses the back of my hand. His eyes flash a subtle ruby and I can’t leave when he lets go and backs away from my door. Turning and his coat swirling.

‘No, wait!’ I call out.

He stops. Looks at me over his shoulder. He waits. I wait.

‘Till, don’t go. I want to come back to you.’

He turns fully to face me.

I reach for him, ‘I can’t go, ‘I want to stay with you.’

He unfolds his arms from behind his back, opens his arms and I run to him.

He whispers right in my ear, ‘ I know you.’

Light as air in his arms as he effortlessly walks with me through the forest. The air is whipping through my hair and he talks to me in German, and I understand this time. He talks of things as if we experienced them in the past. As if he found me. And back in the cabin he dresses me in silks and wraps me in furs. Attentive and meticulous. I fall asleep and awaken in his arms. He places me to sleep in the warmest place, and the radiating heat of the stove comforts me through the night.

I awake bleary eyed, forgotten what had happened and disoriented with where I am. I see the wooden beamed ceiling of the cabin and the fur all round me. Then I notice him, sleeping on the floor with only a few cushions. I crawl down to him and bring the blankets, covering him, asking if he’d want to go up into the warmth. He doesn’t wake and I shuffle closer to him, face to face and cover both of us in the furs.

I can’t close my eyes. I want to kiss him.

I fight the urge, stop myself. I only move closer, as close as I can get while he’s asleep and he can’t see me. There’s only a small gap between his face and mine and I can easily close it. But again, I don’t.

‘Till.’ I say quietly to test the waters. ‘Till.’ Nothing happens.

Then his eyes snap open, with a hint of ruby. His eyes are piercing and looking deep into my soul. I can’t look away and I can’t do anything else. Only follow his lead as he leans up close, millimeters from my face, then closes the gap kissing my lips, ever so gently. He comes back again and again, when I respond, kissing him back, then he deepens the kiss, pulling me closer to him.

And then a wave overtook me, of visions of him flashing in my mind. The air was thick with white smoke, gunpowder. Bales of dry hay, strong arms embracing me, his mouth on mine, his hips pressing and pushing. Then commotion and shouting, and those strong arms crashing over me, taking me and covering me from the loud noise, so I wouldn’t startle.

‘You can’t be here!’ they shouted. ‘You can’t take her!’

I nestled into his neck, telling him ‘I’m going with you.’ With the pomegranate ruby juice staining my nightdress, I whisper sweet nothings into his ear as he whisks me away high into the forest, the mountains and the castle. I know him, my King. And he’s hungry for me and I for him. And we spend nights in that castle, in a whirlwind of passion and music as he sings to me. And that voice I’ll never forget. That voice.

And when I open my eyes to look at him lying in front of me, his eyes wide and ruby as he's watching me in my almost trance like state. His eyes are searching and waiting.

And I say ‘ You took me away with you and I’m glad, I know you too. I know you.’ And I touch the side of his face.

‘Now you know what I’ve waited for, darling.’ He says.

There are whispers in the dark and they talk about us, and me on his arm, rumouring the ‘latest’. His fur coat over the top and grabbing attention as only he could attract. The visions flash when I touch his shoulder in that coat. The animal skins wrapping around us, they're all over the heavy wooden floorboards, they cushion us and with the fire crackling and the snow falling outside he presses into me with his weight.

When we sit across from each other and he tells me about touring, travel and exhaustion, I remember how he would come back for me on horseback, well built, commanding. He would take me with him, shielded from the cold, running, galloping through the snow, then strip me down in front of a raging fire built by him with his own overwhelmingly large hands. And how I comforted him back then. I remember the snippets, triggered through touch, as I lean up against him drinking his vodka, nestle into his shoulder after a while of sitting together, ignoring questions and looks from passers by in that German town I first saw that Rammstein show. His favourite places to hang out. With every touch of his arm I remember those strong hands, the arms that would lift me up onto horseback, lift me onto his lap in those ancient woodland cabins, the hands that caressed my bare skin and had their way with me. And I finally have the courage to take his hand, and he’s happy. He’s been waiting. He knows I needed the time.

‘I know you’re here with me now. I know you remember.’ He tells me.

My waterline buckles and streams. Those should not be the words to make me cry, but I shake involuntarily. He takes me in for a hug, wipes my tears away with the back of his hand and looks at me with eyes that I’ve seen but never experienced in this lifetime.

‘Never, never, do this, you never have to cry my darling. I found you now. You’re here now.’ He ends his sentence with a gentle whisper, wiping tears, stroking my face. I sob, move his hand, break away. Stand up and walk out from the table. But a large hand pins my wrist onto the wooden tabletop. He won’t let me go.

His eyes turn harder. ‘Darling…’ he’s warning me. Looking down his nose, down the length of the table and at me. ‘Stay with me darling.’ he drawls in his German accent, slow and intoxicated. I wriggle out of his grip, try to, he won’t let me. And then I have to go, to shield my tears from him, I don’t want him to see more of the tears, I don’t want to explain it’s as painful as the day we were torn apart, and now I remember it all. I need solace, even from him. It’s too much to bear. He leaves his mark on me through the ages, and now, as I look down, my wrist is red, his fingers twisting over the skin.

‘Till let me go! For a minute, just for a minute.’

He lets go and I can slip away as he rises from his seat, staring me down, not letting me leave his sight, but I do, I slip round a corner, press myself against a wall in the hall. Red walls, red and purple neon strobe. The music gets louder, the thoughts are drowned out, almost. Almost gone but lingering, on the edge of my vision, on the periphery of my hearing, echoing through my mind. All mixed up. I can’t focus, I can’t breathe, we’re back here again.

But maybe it’s…maybe I need him to break the struggle. If he..If we..

Then I sense it, the footsteps, the determination, it can only be him, drawing closer, crawling over tables to get to me, shoving people out of the way. There’s nowhere else he needs to be but to get to me, to be with me and he will stop at nothing to get there. The heat exhaustion drains me, only until he can…and I know that now, I needed him all this time.

He’s stomping towards me through the strobe and smoke. Eyes fixed on me and nothing else. I helplessly wait. Hopefully. Wait for him to get to me, to move me from this spot. Tunnel vision. I press my palms against the wall behind my back, flat against the red paint. I only watch him as he stalks towards me. He almost doesn’t blink, I never see him blink, fixed and hungry. I hold my breath, my arms pinned with a grip to my waist, squeezing, he leans into me, his hair falling down over his eyes messy from the pursuit of me.

‘Where do you think you're going?’ Audibly breathing, he’s in low tones, quiet. Restrained speech. Surrounding me in his embrace, in his hands, giant hands that wrap me up. His weight against me and the whispering. He presses flush against me and demands I tell him what I’m doing here. What I’m playing at.

‘Everything you need is here.’ He places my hand on his heart flat. ‘Here.’ he looks me dead in the eye, intimidating. And his eyes narrow as he looks down at me. I gulp and blink up at him, he’s looming tall, large, toned, powerful. Then he slowly moves my hand down his chest, down to his lower stomach to the edge of his belt. ‘And here, this is all you need. Do you think so?’ he asks me.

‘You know it is.’ I’m barely audible.

He pushes my hand lower. He’s mad with hormones.

‘I do need you.’ I tell him.

‘What’s that?’ he asks.

My head falls back against the wall ‘ I need you Till.’

‘There you are, there’s a good girl.’

He pulls me towards him, I away from him, he hesitates, looks me over, checks I’m still with him, sympathetic. ‘’I found you that night, finally saw you, don’t get away from me now, don’t change your mind now.’ he says.

‘I won’t, I can’t, I remember everything, I remember you.’ I pull his arms, my own arms outstretched fully, trying to get him to leave with me. ‘Lets go, lets get out of here.’ I tell him.

Built like a tank I can’t move him. But when I give him the eye, he jolts towards me, unable to resist the sultry eyes, the come hither stare. He follows me staggering back down the hallway into the main room, and we try to leave. But he hesitates, hovers around me, stares, pulls at my clothes pawing me. And it’s the same for me when I can’t resist him. I follow his lead as he draws me closer to the table cornering me there, pinning me to the edge, falling over me, closing in. His lips ghosting over my neck and jaw, over my lips and nipping at my bottom lip. He lunges, leans his body weight on mine, pins me to the table top. There’s no stopping. Too late to turn back. Everything is a blur, and tunnel vision doesn’t do it justice. Anyone that is in this room right now is gone to me. All I have is the surface of the table, and Till’s body weight climbing on top of mine. Wanting, hot, frantic. Messy, as he rips the outer layers of my clothes. Harshly pulls at the buttons of my overcoat, peeling back the layers, lifts my skirt, unpins my garter. Hands. Till’s hands pawing at the plush contours of my upper thighs, sliding to his favourite place. Over the gusset of my underwear, palming over the surface of the lace, the heel of his palm, jutting into my clit. Till pushes up pressing until I squirm and brace my back against the tables’ wooden surface.

‘Till.’ I whisper, out of breath already as he pins me further. His eye meet mine, his forehead presses into mine and he pins me fully, my head falling back. He pauses, then with those wide narrow lips, his soft cupids bow pushes onto my lips, softly as his palm moves between my thighs, then hungrily he nips at my bottom lip, teeth scarping, tongue lapping for access. His fingers move to the edge of the lace, and scrunching his hand into a fist he rips the lace clean off my hip, crawling towards the wetness that he’s created. His fingers gliding and circling. There’s nothing else I can think of.

‘Komm zu mir.’ he briefly speaks into my neck.

‘There’s nothing I want more. Nothing.’ I get the words out sighing. I draw him closer with my knees around him.

There’s commotion, voices, calling out but it feels far away, until Till lifts his head and growls, looking around him. He looks feral, distracted. I hear a smashing of glass, scuttling, more commotion and then Till shouts out something in German across the room.

‘Till come back to me, come back’ I whine.

He looks agitated , flustered and angry. ‘Leave us! He yells in English. Stay or leave but get out of my way!’ His eyes are livid as he looks around from above me, then dipping his head back down to me, they soften, then alight with a lust I’m longing to be directed to me. He breathes heavy and strands of hair fall in his eyes as he continues to look down at me. I pet his face, his arm that props himself up above me. I can’t wrap my hand around his entire arm completely, he’s too broad, too powerful.

‘I need you’ I tell him.

His eyes turn a deep red, the colour of pomegranate flesh. He dives, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I plant kisses on his cupids bow, sucking his lip, lingering on the smokiness of him. And then he crawls his fingers inside and it feels overwhelming. He curls and makes my breathing stop. It feels like he’s fucking me. The proportions of his hands to mine are exaggerated. He whispers in my ear.

‘Not the same as when you touch yourself at night, thinking of me is it?’ He laughs, smirks and slides another finger. I moan out load. He undoes his belt. ‘But I’m even bigger than that, darling.’ Red eyes flash, his hand moves away. His cock pushes up to me, slipping against the wetness. I look into his eyes when I can find his gaze. His expression subtly shifts. Admiring the desperation for him in my eyes.

‘I know you darling.’ He swiftly pushes into me, hard, smooth, fast. Not fast enough. I press my hips up to him.

‘More.’ I breathe, flinging my arms about, looking for something to grab onto. He pins them by my wrists to the table. Fucks into me, deeper and slower. Then speeds up and up and up. I feel dizzy, lost in the moment, nothing else exists. I feel the head of his cock, bottoming out. Our breathing is fast paced. He senses I’m holding back. ‘You’re too good not to scream my love.’ He pushes the tempo, further still. He eliminates any type of movement I can do, freeing me to scream my heart out.

‘Till! Till!! TILL! TILL!! TILL!!!’

When the high has worn off, my vision expands out beyond the immediate. I can now sense the tension in the air. The awkward glances. The patrons keeping back. As Till lifts me, hoisting me up over his shoulder, I see the pieces of glass all over the bar floor, a chair’s back chipped with the throw. But no one confronts him. They look away as we pass through the bar and out. And now in the privacy of his cabin, Till lies me down on the warm bricks. He joins me, snuggling down with me for the night. It’s cozy, warm. We listen to the fire crackling gently, giving off a soft orange glow. Till undresses me completely under the fur throws, then undresses himself. So heated in the cabin that we feel completely at comfort. He draws himself close to me, flush with him, holds me to his chest. We have the fur to snuggle into, but I sink into a blissful ambiance, resting on his wide chest. Caressing my face, my hair, my shoulders, my waist, Till talks to me in German. Lovingly he whispers, gently he tells me of how much he’s longed to find me. Of things he’s been looking to recognise in me again. He doesn’t stop stroking and petting. The German words falling from his lips, sweetly sharing the thoughts he wants to get off his chest with me. I listen and press myself into him, one knee between his legs. Then I feel the weight of them on mine, and I nestle my hand below his hips and rest it there, and he lulls me to sleep in German.

#rammstein fanfic #till lindemann fanfic #till lindemann #till lindemann smut #till linderman x reader #writing blog #writing

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hobby-n-chill · 4 months

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Black Powder Red Earth is a great game, yall should check it out

#hobby #miniature painting #model painting #board games #black powder red earth #black powder

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officialyasen · 2 years

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Hongbin Security Service Company’s mercenaries

Snippets from Black Powder Red Earth 28mm’s Guidebook

#Black Powder Red Earth #Hongbin Security Service Company #28mm #Artwork #Tabletop #War Game

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wrathofanempireif · 2 years

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Wrath of an Empire

Your home world is in ruins, a carcass being torn at by two galactic empires. Years after fleeing the planet you now return as a soldier, a leader. Explore a planet in ruins as you fight to take back your home, or risk watching it collapse all over again as one of the most dangerous enemies the galaxy has ever faced is unleashed onto the battlefield.

Wrath of an Empire is sci-fi fantasy Interactive Fiction set in the middle of a galactic war between two factions of mankind.

Play as male, female or non-binary.

Play as Gay, Straight or Bisexual as you explore several unique romance options.

Fight to retake your home, guiding a group of soldiers and refugees as the galactic war once again comes to claim your homeworld.

Explore your home world, its landscapes still stand tall before you, will they provide you with safety? A tactical advantage? Or will the secrets hidden in the snow drag you and your companions to an early grave?

Survive encounters with deadly chemical weapons, wild animals and a futuristic horror now unleashed on the battlefield.

You are a soldier of the commonwealth, trained since birth to fight the Empire that dares defile the homeland of all citizens, Earth. Now they want to take your new home. lead a group of soldiers and civilians as you attempt to get them to safety while two armies clash around you. Romance a fiery bomb maker, a cool and tempered officer or a seasoned commander as you all try and survive the futuristic battlefield. Will you hold true to honor or cast it aside to ensure your survival?

Notable Characters

Avery [M/F] “The Childhood Friend”

“I lost my home, I will be damned to hell before I lose you too.”

By your side from childhood and now into adulthood Avery is a constant in your life. Boisterous and overbearing at times Avery has decided to match those traits by specializing in explosives. Loyal to a fault Avery will always make the choice that’s better for their friends rather then themselves. Before facing the horrors of the battlefield will true feelings perhaps be admitted? Appearance: 6’3 athletic build, blazing red hair with sharp blue eyes. They have a noticeable powder burn on their left cheek.

Wren [M/F] “The Devotee/The Advisor”

“I can never repay what you did, but I will always be by your side.”

Thrust together by chance Wren is what anyone would want in a right hand officer, calm, collected and extremely organized. Wren comes off as cold to most people, but perhaps you can crack beneath their mask to peek at what lies beneath? Appearance: 5’8 thin build with short raven black hair and dark brown eyes. Always dressed in uniform with not a single wrinkle to be found.

Yi [M/F] “The Veteran”

“That fire in your eyes is all I ever need to keep going.”

Yi likes to believe the best place to get to know someone is the battlefield, where lies drag ones to their graves and truth is found in final moments. Always armed with a large smile and a glimmer in their eyes this commander is a father/mother to their men, having survived countless battles they suddenly find themselves cooperating with a far younger commander who has them second guessing some things… Appearance: 6’0 Heavier build with black and white hair and two bright hazel eyes, (accompanied by a well trimmed beard if male)

Francesco Delamar [M] “The Rebel”

“I’ve closed my eyes to greet death every night for ten years, why do you visit it upon me now demon?”

The pragmatic military leader of the planetary militia holds no delusions of being good. Instead he wages his personal war against Imperial forces with an unmatched ruthlessness. Suddenly his fellow militia leaders begin to drop dead one by one and he gets the feeling someone or something is coming for all of you...

Appearance: 5′7 average build with green eyes, a thin mustache and a notable scar on one cheek.

Ehren [M/F] “The Enemy”

“I had you right in my crosshairs, one pull of the trigger standing between me and victory... And I couldn’t do it.”

Demo Link (Updated 5/28/23)

The Operative/Wrath of an Empire Discord

The Operative Tumblr Post

Wrath of an Empire takes place in the Universe of “The Operative”

#Wrath of an Empire #Demo #Interactive fiction #Writing #IF #IF WIP #WIP #interactive fiction demo

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ellieshand · 1 year

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If you were a waiting room I would never see a doctor, I would sit there with my first-aid kit and bleed

ellie williams x reader | you hate waiting for ellie to come back to you, bloody and bruised.

tw : blood, fluff, cringe nicknames, i think that’s it

Perhaps you were irrational, perhaps all the thoughts swimming inside your head like koi fish dancing their deft routine in the opaque waters of japan held no sensible foundation.

Ellie was strong, stronger than even her name might suggest. And you knew of her power, you’d had seen it all firsthand in the two years you had spent with her.

So why, after all this time, did you still shudder in fright as the broken clock ticked away the time, skipping seconds as it did until the reality that Ellie may not come back finally settled into your stomach, dropping like lead and carving out a cavity in merciless digs.

One tick.

You couldn’t help the bouncing in your leg nor control the teeth piercing your bottom lip as the clock passed another minute, it’s pearly face taunting you. When Ellie had said there was business to attend to with Abby the sun had just begun to rise - you could still remember how it flitted through her auburn hair and changed the hue from autumn leaves to gold - and now its brilliant beams had dulled into orange, yellow and bronze tints.

Two Ticks.

Whateve rold record was drowning on in the background had been long forgotten as another tick of the clock passed by, leaving you to stand up and began the now nightly ritual you’ve grown accustomed to. You started the pacing slowly, each step carefully measured to match your breathing in a futile attempt to calm the tremors in your hands and the jitters in your legs. You allowed your mind to drift back to hours prior, Ellie’s hands tracing small reassuring figures across your arms and wrists as she mumbled sweet nothings with the promise to come home. But what if she didn’t keep that promise?

Three Ticks.

A resounding creak ricocheted against the creme-colored walls, chafing from the wooden door as it slid with great clamor against the kitchen tile; an all too familiar noise. You found the feeling something akin to scalding water from a shower spigot coursing down your body and washing away the grime after a strenuous day of work with blushing suds and wax candles.

You stopped your movements abruptly, your breath lodged into your throat as a figure slowly dragged themselves from the parlor into the main room. Peaks of auburn hair sprouted out of a black hoodie and a Smith & Wesson Model 27 revolver poked from the waistband of black tattered jeans. You hated that you knew the exact model your girlfriend used, hated how normal it felt to see a gun in the belt of the woman you so deeply had fallen for. But God did you love seeing Ellie in one piece.

“Ellie” You don’t even attempt to hide the pure relief coursing through your body like adrenaline, filling your veins with enough momentum to race across the living room and envelope Ellie in a hug. It was light, your arms barely brushing Ellie’s as you examined the woman’s body, eyes sizing up the injuries she’d sustained in what she promised to be ‘just a meeting’.

A small purple bruise covered her knuckles, each crease adorned with wine red blood that had dried from the bitter weather. A thin line of red was pressed against Ellie’s neck, remnants of her own blood she’d clearly tried to clean off still poking through the flesh.

Still, despite the few cuts and bruises covering her skin you thanked yourlucky stars the woman had managed to come back in one piece. You let out the breath you’d held all night and buried your head into the nook of Ellie’s neck, finally tightening your hold after deeming the injuries to be fixable with a few bandages. You nuzzled against the soft skin, inhaling the earth and gun powder scent that always lingered on her pale skin, another inhale revealed a new scent, one entirely Ellie that you could only seem to describe as the the apricity.

“I’m okay, I’m fine, I promise.” Ellie cooed, the taut muscles she’d kept on guard all-day relaxing under the weight of your affectionate embrace, your warm skin welcomed after being in the December air all day. Kicking the door shut Ellie finally reciprocated the hug, encompassing the you in her arms a bit tighter than necessary, almost as though if she didn’t clutch on you might vanish into thin air, almost as though you would leave her.

Sighing, you pulled back for a moment, doe eyes shifting into a mock-glare before your arm gave a harmless smack to Ellie’s shoulder, lips shifting to match your eyes with a rather childish pout, “I was worried sick!”

“That’s cause you have the immune system of a baby,” The words held a tease she reserved solely for you, one that almost always elicited some sort of reaction from you but still held the fondness Ellie had whenever speaking to her girlfriend.

“You are unbelievable!” you huffed, shooting a glare at Ellie- though the quirk of your lips quickly refuted your hard eyes - and unraveling your body from hers, “To think I was planning to make cookiessalad tomorrow."

Ellie’s eyes went wide at the notion you were presenting and in an instant the girl had her head bowed and hands clapped together in a pleading stance, “I’m so sorry for being late,”

“You’re just teasing me now!”

“I am not!”

“Argh, you are the worst!” You tilt your chin up and to the left, opening your mouth to continue with the harmless threats only for Ellie to take the opportunity to steal a kiss.

Her lips were cool, no doubt still warming up after the long night in the frigid air, but you leaned into the touch all the same. She tasted addicting. It was a drug and you were certainly an addict. Ellie’s scent overwhelmed you and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around Ellie, reaching up to your tippy toes and nuzzling your noses, an action that made the girl swallow a chuckle deep in her throat.

Kissing you was different than any other feeling Ellie had come across, it was soft and tender, as though if you pushed too hard, touched too much, you would shatter Ellie into a thousand little shards. But then again that might have had some truth behind it. Around you, Ellie had come to realize she was fragile. Delicate and vulnerable to every little motion, every intimate touch.

Reluctantly you pulled away, your eyes lingering with a stary smog on the woman who always managed to make you feel like putty, and focused your attention on the injuries Ellie had sustained, “You were not careful Ellie, you told me you would be!” you let your lips fall into a pout, left hand poking the non-bruised cheek in an attempt to annoy her.

It didn’t seem to work as Ellie stared down at your hand affectionately, catching it with ease mid-poke and pressing soft caresses to the pads of each finger. This appeared to be a winsome gesture to anyone looking in on the outside, but you knew this tactic far too well. Ellie would distract you with sappy behavior like kissing your knuckles or nuzzling into your neck, you would blush profoundly and all would be pardoned.

That was what transpired on a usual night.

Tonight was not usual.

So instead of swooning at the response you simply disregarded it. (Despite the warmth flooding into your stomach, pooling like the honey from Ellie’s lips and hardening like the sugar that danced across her cupid’s bow.) At the pure bewilderment printed across Ellie’s face, you had to bite your lip in an effort to conceal your budding grin of amusement.

“Come, let’s go clean your cuts.” Pulling him to the kitchen you situated her dumbfounded body onto one of their wooden chairs, “I’ll get the first aid kid and you will sit right here and not move.”

This seemed to break Ellie from her trance, her eyes refocusing just in time to grab your arm before you made it to the cabinets. A sudden urge to explain how much you meant to her was overwhelming, “You know I love you, Birdie?”

“I love you too, now sit back down,” your voice was barely a whisper and the blush around your ears at the nickname didn’t go unnoticed, “We need to bandage your neck before an infection can get in.”

Folding her hand for this round Ellie nods, allowing her girlfriend to scurry off and retrieve the small white container with a variety of collected and tattered stickers they had decorated it with. This had become a frequency in the household. Ellie would come home bruised and you would fuss over the minor injuries with great conviction before ultimately patching her up.

“That shirt is still stupid,” Ellie tutted, eyeing the small embroidered bird stitched across your light pink sweater. A sweater Ellie had come to learn as your all-time favorite by the sheer abundance you would wear it.

“You are stupid,” you didn’t look up, so focused on cleaning off her knuckles you missed the bright smile Ellie was giving you, instead, pressing feather-light to the wounds with the small disinfectant. You knew it would take longer this way, but you simply couldn’t bear watching Ellie in pain, “Besides you have admitted to liking my shirt don’t think you can trick me.”

That was true, Ellie had grown fond of the bird sweater and the familiar scent of you it always seemed to radiate. But then again, Ellie had grown fond of everything that had even the smallest correlation to you.

You didn’t need to know this though.

“Birdie you really don’t need to do this…” Ellie looked off shyly, “it’s just a few cuts and I feel bad making you patch me up every time I get hurt. You do enough already.”

“I hardly do a thing, all I do is cook and clean and make soap for the town. Just allow me to help.” you ducked your head in distress as you resumed wrapping the bruised hand in cloth bandages.

Pulling your hand away slowly Ellie tilted your face upwards, pressing a gentle kiss into the center of your forehead, affectionate and tender. “Sweethear, just staying with me is more than I could ever ask of you.”

With a sigh of contentedness, you nod, burrowing your body deeper into the security of Ellie’s arms.

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