#rather this than the damage they do to our windows

[ohraicodoll]

DESPERATELY NEED FERAL READER WITH EP 8 WITH AN INJURED JOEL AND KIDNAPPED ELLIE…….. I KNOW OUR CRAZY QUEEN WOULD KILL EVERYONE ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Yall asked for it lol

Violent Delights Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 6.7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: They took her kid and she was getting her back. Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and torture

She woke up with a start, having drifted off unknowingly after trying to keep watch, a sense of disorientation as she tried to figure out where she was and what was happening. The basement. They were still in the basement, the cold leeching any warmth from the walls and floors, the haggard breathing of her companion her only company. It’d been over 48 hours since she last slept, since Joel was hurt and they’d had to drag him into the house and patch him up. He wasn’t in good shape. Joel was so close to death’s door, it terrified her. They were so close to losing him and she had never felt more helpless.

She could still hear his pained groans, the glazed and blank look in his eyes, as she put pressure on the bleeding hole in his stomach just a couple days before. “Don’t you dare die, Joel. You still have to make shit up to me and you can’t do that dead. You can’t leave us again.” He’d tried to tell them to leave him. To go back to Tommy’s and leave him behind, the stubborn asshole. But Ellie managed to find the first aid kit and they’d sewn up the hole, wrapping it best they could with the little supplies they had. She knew it wasn’t enough. There could be shards left from the baseball bat, they weren’t the cleanest, nothing was sterile. She didn’t even know if something internal had been damaged. But it was all they could do. They’d been so focused on getting to Colorado they’d been using their food storage rather than hunting over the past week. Now it was biting them in the ass, their supplies dwindled. She’d managed to briefly go out and hunt down a rabbit, but game seemed scarce and leaving meant leaving Ellie and Joel alone. Without Joel, it was hard to sleep, look after Ellie, look after him and keep him stable, look after the fucking horses, and hunt. She was overwhelmed. So sleep went out the window. She took watch when Ellie was asleep, went and tried to hunt and scavenge the nearby houses when she was awake, and kept an eye on Joel in between taking care of the two horses in the garage. But at some point she’d fallen asleep finally, fallen deep and hard enough that she hadn’t noticed Ellie slipping the rifle from her hands and leaving the two adults alone.  A small scribbled note was placed on her lap on a piece of what looked like newspaper, “Be back soon -E.” She scrambled to her feet, looking around and cursed herself. Joel was still breathing steadily but his brow was covered with sweat from the infection he was staving off. Both their packs were against the wall but Ellie’s was gone and the panic that took hold was like a lightning bolt. It stole the breath from her lungs. Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone- it was a racing thought that circulated over and over again. Her main purpose, main job, and she’d fucking fallen asleep.

Her heart jumped further at hearing footsteps above her head, the slight creak and shift in the old wood, a door slamming…then it all came out in deep relief as she recognized the light shuffling.

Ellie raced down the steps, cheeks pink from cold and wind, and breath huffing out in a rush as she entered the basement.

She grabbed the girl immediately, shaking her by the shoulders with the vestiges of panic still in her blood, “Where did you go, Ellie? You weren’t supposed to leave!”

The teenager paused, eyes frantic and a little wild, but a tough set to her lips as she shook her head, “I went hunting and you needed sleep! I had to, but look! I got Joel medicine!” Ellie took the bottles out of their wrap, quickly moving away from her and kneeling down to Joel, beginning to lift up his shirt before she could even get a good look at what she had. The wound was ugly and discolored and she could hear him groan at the small touches. Her mind was still caught up in the panic of discovering the girl was gone and she quickly snatched the bottles away before the syringe was inserted. “Where did you get this?” she asked, turning it over in her hands. Penicillin. Two whole bottles of penicillin, practically liquid gold in their world, and Ellie had managed to get it while she slept. The teen looked nervous and tried to snatch it back, but she was quick even if she was exhausted and pulled her hand away, “Please, can we give it to him first and then I’ll explain?” Her eyes were so big for her face, cheeks pink. Her desperation to help Joel was evident. Ellie knew how bad he was doing and believed she held the cure to it all in her hands. She could only sigh and hand it back over, instructing her to give just a fourth of the bottle and to tap the syringe. Joel would probably have a heart attack if he knew she was letting the kid give it to him, but she knew Ellie had to do this herself. It was her win and she had to feel like she was the one saving him so she let her. But then they both stared, her knowledge only getting them that far. “Where the fuck am I suppose to put this?” Ellie cursed, looking at the wound and Joel’s arm, eyes switching between hers and his closed ones, “Fuck, how are we supposed to do this?” She cursed herself. Her medical knowledge was mediocre. Stitching, cleaning wounds, pulling out bullets, the basics they needed. Infections and medicine she had no clue about, “Just give it to him in his stomach. As long as it enters his blood stream, it should be fine.” At least, that’s what she thought. Ellie winced and inserted the needle, Joel giving out pained groans as it sunk into the sensitive area. They both watched the plunger empty the contents and then she pulled it out, trying to clean the needle the best she could. They only had one syringe and would have to reuse it. “And now we wait,” the teen commented and looked at his face as if at any second he would be magically better. He would wake up and smile and tell her good job. But he didn’t, staying silent on the small makeshift bed. “No, now you tell me where you went and how you got that,” she bit out, sitting on the other side of Joel to face her. Ellie winced and looked down at the small glass bottles in her hand, “You needed to sleep and we needed food. I know you think you can take care of all of us, but you can’t and I wanted to help by trying to hunt.” “That’s not your responsibility-” “It doesn’t matter. I wanted to help,” Ellie cut her off but then sighed, “And I did manage to actually get a deer…but I ran into these guys...” Instantly, she was on high alert, eyes searching everything that was visible and checking her for any wounds, “You ran into people and you’re barely telling me!” “I know!” the young girl argued back, hand resting on top of Joel’s, “They found my deer before me and said they were from a group with starving women and children. They offered to trade for half the deer and said they had medicine. I did everything I was supposed to! Got them to drop their guns, unloaded their rifles, and had them back away. One went to get the medicine and I kept the gun on the other.”

“So you gave them half the deer and they gave you the medicine then just let you go?” she asked and clenched and unclenched her fists. Ellie wouldn’t look so nervous if  that was the whole story and she wasn’t nearly tired enough to have been dragging half a deer carcass back. Shrugging, Ellie grimaced and refused to meet her eyes, “That was the deal…but they knew who we were. The people that attacked us at the university belonged to their group and this guy started talking about how one of theirs had been killed by a crazy man with two girls. He knows that was Joel. I don’t know why he let me go, but I think they’re looking for us.” With a curse, she quickly stood, hands on her hips and pacing in a tight circle, “Fuck. Fuck. And they didn’t come after you?”

“No, I think they let me go because I was a kid.” She doubted that. People rarely were that charitable, even to children in this world. Especially a child with a gun and an attitude like Ellie’s. The unspoken words were there though. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t come for her and Joel though. Ellie may be deemed innocent but the two of them were problems and only one of them was in commission currently. But what could they do? They couldn’t move Joel in his state. They couldn’t leave him behind either. They were stuck. “Okay. Maybe if they let you go they don’t plan on coming. Maybe they think both of us are injured if you were out on your own and won’t come,” she lied comfortingly and tried to speak the words into existence, knowing the kid was probably feeling guilty and needed some hope. They needed rest, needed to breathe for a second, and panicking now wouldn’t help.  It took a while to relax enough to let the adrenaline fade away.

Ellie laid down, exhausted, tucking into Joel’s side as she had the past couple nights and resting her head on his shoulder. He subconsciously leaned into her, still alive for now. Her heart ached at the sight, the way they held each other in their own ways. She didn’t have the strength to get after the girl more or uproot them out of precaution. They were all exhausted and Ellie had somehow managed to bring hope even if there was a cost.

She sat down by the stairs, flipped her knife between her fingers to keep her awake and focused, and watched the two sleep with her heart in her throat.

The men would come. Now that they knew they were in the area, they would come and they were stuck in this spot until Joel was better. There was no way they could get him on a horse and move him now without undoing all the healing he’d done. A thousand scenarios went through her head, sleep now a distant memory in the face of the panic and anxiety plaguing her. How was she supposed to fight off a group and keep them both safe?

She couldn’t. That was the reality of the situation.

The thought hit her over and over again like a blow to the chest, the knife turning between her fingers. _________________________________________ Morning came and she could see Ellie’s disappointment that the medicine hadn’t instantly woken Joel up and made him all better. To ease her mind, they gave him another dose, trying to make the bottles last before shoving the remainder in their bags. They were out of food, the rabbit she had caught two days ago long gone without a way to store it. Joel still wasn’t eating or drinking and she worried that even if they got the infection under control, his body wouldn’t be strong enough to get better. Things were bad. The possibility of Joel dying was a constant chime in her head. It felt like a mockery that he had left and came back only to be almost taken from them permanently. She was angry. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that took the hit. It had been meant for her but he’d pushed her out the way as the bat swung, breaking on the tree, and then tackled the guy. If it had been her, Joel would know what to do. He could take care of them both or at least would have the strength to leave her behind if necessary. She wasn’t sure she could. She was failing him. Failing them both. The basement was suffocating, pressing in on her, and she took the opportunity to go tend to the horses, leaving the girl and her unconscious companion to the pressing weight of disappointment. Her body was beginning to ache from the lack of sleep and food, joints protesting her movement, but she reached down and scooped snow into the small metal bucket for them to get some water. Soon the horses would starve too or be too weak to carry them. Death was creeping up on them. Looking over the neighborhood they were held up in, she sighed at the obvious foot steps leading up through the streets before beginning to methodically cover what she could. Ellie knew better than to leave a trail but she guessed in her hurry to get the medicine back to Joel and get away from the men she had forgotten. And as birds took off in a rush further down the road towards the wooded outskirts, she froze and her heart thundered in her ears. 

She felt fear run through her as her thoughts from the night resurfaced and became reality, a living nightmare. They were coming. They had waited for daylight to search them out and were coming now. She knew it, could feel it, and they were out of time. Quickly covering what she could and making false tracks from the other houses, she ran back inside and flew down the stairs to the basement taking two at a time. No time, there was no time.  Ellie startled at her rushed appearance and the way she flew across the room to the rifle and her own pack, “What’s happening?”

“Those men you saw are coming,” she huffed out, grabbing the rifle and checking it was loaded before looking around the room as if she could find the answer there.

Turning to Joel, Ellie began to shake his shoulders as if he were merely sleeping and not borderline in a coma, “Fuck. Joel! You have to wake up, Joel. Joel, wake up! Wake the fuck up, Joel!” But he only gasped, pained whimpers leaving his lips, eyelids fluttering.

She bent down and grabbed Ellie by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes, “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. I need you to take the horse and run.”

“What? No, what about-”

“You run and I’ll follow behind and try to pick them off,” she interrupted, voice adamant, “They’re going to search every house and they will find us eventually. I can’t hold them off like this. I need to know you’re good first and if we’re away from here then it will take the focus off Joel.”

“You want me to go without you?” Ellie’s eyes were wide with fear and her heart ached at the sight, but there was no time.

“I’ll find you,” she promised and dug her fingers tightly into her shoulders as if she could sink the words into her skin, “I will. But you have to go now. We’ll block the entrance to down here, give Joel some time.”

Ellie pressed her lips together and nodded, running to grab her backpack and last minute grabbed one of the larger knives they had. Running back over to Joel, the teen knelt down and placed it on his chest, forcing his hand to grab it. She let her while grabbing the rest of her stuff and placed Joel’s pack into a small cubby under the steps to make it less noticeable.

“Okay, look at me,” Ellie whispered to him while he only groaned in reply, “There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, Red is going to help get rid of them. But if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?”

“Ellie, hurry,” she bit out, peeking out the small window along the top of the wall. “Joel, do not fall asleep,” the teenager pleaded desperately, squeezing his hand around the knife. She could see his eyes partially open, see his lips trying to move and his fingers twitching trying to grasp the knife. But Ellie finally got up quickly and rushed up the stairs. She went to follow after her and paused, staring back at the unconscious man on the floor. A part of her whispered that this could be the last time she saw him alive. One or both of them could be dead if this didn’t go right. Heart in her throat, she ran back to him and kneeled, kissing his forehead and grasping his hand. “Stay alive for us, please, Joel,” she whispered, squeezing the hand around the knife, but getting back up and running up the stairs. She tried not to look back. Both of them moved the tall kitchen cabinet over the door entryway to the basement, trying to shuffle things around to not make the spot obvious before heading to the garage. They got both horses out, grabbing what she needed from hers and sending silent apologies to Tommy before forcing it to gallop away in the opposite direction with a sharp smack. The other she saved for Ellie to ride, closing the garage door behind them. They’d figure out transportation later when they were out of this mess, but they needed the guys off their trail and two different horse tracks would help. With quick hands, she helped Ellie climb up onto its back. 

Shakily, she bit out, “You ride hard and fast and loud. They’re going to come after you but if you go fast they won’t catch you and I’ll hit them from behind. They only know for sure about you right now. Do not look back, Ellie. I’ll find you once it’s safe, I promise.” Ellie was shaking but tried to put on a brave face, nodding and holding onto the reins. She wanted to hug the girl, tell her it was going to be okay, but she wouldn’t lie to her. Not now. The men were close, she knew that. She patted the rear of the horse and nodded a final goodbye, beckoning her to go forward. Her heart screamed to not let her go, that it was safer with her than alone, but they were backed into a corner and she had no choice. They wouldn’t win in a shootout and losing meant Ellie would die. So she watched as the girl rode away down the street away from her, turning until she was completely out of sight, and tried not to flinch at the gunshots that came soon after and the yells of men. She tried to shut off the part of her that wanted to panic, to react and worry. That wasn’t the part she needed to listen to at the moment. Running as far as she could, crossing over fences and staying against the walls of the house, she followed the sound of loud hoof beats and chased after them as they chased after Ellie. Her ears caught on one of them screaming that she was to be left alive, but that didn’t ease the worry in her. Being captured alive wasn’t always a good thing. One of the slower men chasing Ellie fell the furthest behind, wheezing in the cold and trying to clamber in the dense snow. Her own knife in hand, she ran and jumped onto his back, using both their weight to send them forward onto his front behind the cover of some of the shrubs. 

He hadn’t been expecting to be attacked from behind and it took him a moment to try and struggle, to lift his face out of the snow to breathe, and she took advantage of that by stabbing deep into the back of his neck. He groaned, the sound muffled, and she pulled the blade out and sunk it in again and again with a growl. The snow was staining red around them. He stopped moving. One down. She stood and took off, the cold biting into her lungs and stealing her breath. The terrain was hard and the one kill had put her farther behind the group, forcing her to cut across more backyards to catch up, but she could only hope Ellie had done what she asked and was out of range. She could catch the rest of them once they scattered. But then a gunshot rang out close by. The sound of a horse’s cry ripped through her, tore her soul to shreds, and she knew if she lived beyond the day she would hear that sound forever in her nightmares.

She ran. She left all care of stealth behind and ran fast and hard, dodging trees and fallen branches and then ran faster when another gun shot rang out. The chest felt like it was being cleaved open by the panic, fear gripping her tightly. They wouldn’t have shot her. They wouldn’t have killed her. She was a kid, they wouldn’t-

And then she watched from the trees as the group surrounded Ellie who was on the ground, her horse unmoving not far away, and a tall skinny man picked her up and began to walk away with her. She raised the rifle, looking down the scope, and cursed as the men separated and began to head back into the neighborhood. No doubt to continue their search for Joel and her.

She could see Ellie’s face through the scope, the loll of her head, but she was gripped too closely to the man’s body. He was walking further and further away. Two sides of her screamed. Leaving to go after them meant abandoning Joel, but staying behind meant leaving Ellie. She wanted to press the trigger, shoot, but knew it was too risky with Ellie in the man’s arms. She could so easily accidentally kill the girl if she was one inch off and her hands were too shaky from exhaustion to be precise. Only some of the group was going back, the others looking like they were continuing to scout the area.

She knew what she had to do, what Joel would tell her to do, but the reality of it felt impossible. If they found Joel, he’d die for sure. But she wasn’t sure she could live with leaving Ellie.

The men with the girl were getting farther away and a choice had to be made.

So she swallowed the sob in her throat and let the rage she felt consume her completely, push her forward, and followed behind the group to where they would take her kid.  __________________________ It was getting harder and harder to follow along as the wind began to kick up a notch. She needed to see where they were taking Ellie, but she was tired and the cold was sinking in, her body struggling to keep going. And as they entered the town, it was getting difficult to avoid being seen. Too many buildings, too many open areas, and she didn’t know who could be watching. She knew they had entered one of the nearby buildings, but wasn’t sure which. The clock was ticking in her mind, Ellie’s life on one hand and Joel’s on the other. What good was she if she couldn’t save her people? Blood crusted on her fingers as she entered the first of the buildings quietly, finding a back entrance. It was dark but she could hear voices nearby as she found herself in some kind of storage room, the cold still reaching her through the walls. She wasn’t used to carrying the rifle. It had always been Joel’s weapon thanks to its weight, her preferring knives or a small pistol or even a bow when she could find one. So when she crouched down to ease her way over to the swinging door leading further inside, she winced when it thudded and scraped against the floor, the sound so loud in her ears. The voices paused and she froze, eyes wide and watching the door. There was shuffling and she quickly backed away into a darkened corner, pulling her knife out. Steps came closer and she held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The door swung open and she could see a man enter, beard a little rough and looking a little ragged, cheeks red from the cold. He frowned, looking around, gaze shifting over what he could. He turned to look at the back door, back facing her, and only then did she realize she had tracked snow inside and it hadn’t quite melted. Lunging, she stuck the blade deep into his lower back with all her might and threw her arm around his neck, choking him hard. A cry of pain tried to leave his lips, breath cut off, and he struggled wildly. She twisted the knife, feeling blood coat her hand. “Where is the girl?” she hissed, jerking the blade deeper. He sobbed and made pathetic mewling sounds of pain, voice wispy from lack of air, “Please, I don’t know-” She twisted, hearing the squelch of flesh tearing, “The teenage girl your buddy grabbed, where is she?” The distinct smell of piss lingered in the air and he sobbed out, “I don’t know! Oh god.” Steps were coming close again and she growled, keeping her grip on the knife buried in his body and shifting her arm away from his neck to hold the back of his collar. He wheezed in air, blood starting to bubble from his lips. The door burst open and the distinct sound of a gun rising echoed in the tiny room, only to pause as she held the man in front of her like a shield, mostly hidden by his body. “Howard-” A woman’s voice. All the people who had attacked them had been men. 

She wouldn’t have the information she needed. With a growl of frustration, she shoved the body at her, letting his dead weight hit her and trap the woman against the wall. She let out a startled cry and the delay gave her just enough time to unholster her pistol and shoot her in the head. The numbness that was a twin to her rage had sunk into her skin, blanketing her all over. She’d search the buildings, one by one, and kill whoever she had to to find her kid. She didn’t care. Stepping over the bodies, she moved into the area they had been in before she drew their attention and paused, icy horror filling her. A leg was in the process of being cut apart, small chunks set aside and being wrapped up as if to store for later. It was a kitchen, most likely used to prepare food for stage, large makeshift smokers and pits along the back unused. The ticking clock in her mind sped up as the reality of what she’d uncovered hit her. Cannibals. These people that had taken Ellie were cannibals. A strong hit to her back sent her stumbling forward and clattering to her knees. She grunted and scrambled forward as a stomp missed her, hitting the ground instead. There’d been someone still in the room and she’d been too distracted to notice. 

Rolling onto her back, gun still in her hand, she aimed and managed to shoot the knee out of her assailant as he raised a butcher knife. He crumpled to the ground with a cry and she got to her feet slowly, gun raised and trained on him. 

The guy was younger, but thin and haggard looking. His bravado hadn’t fully left him though as he stared her down, anger in his eyes, “You fucking bitch. You blew out my fucking knee.” He tried to get up but she aimed at his head, making him freeze. “I’ll shoot the other one too if you don’t shut up and tell me where the girl you kidnapped is,” she snarled, adrenaline helping to keep the firearm steady on him. His nose wrinkled and he spit at her, brow furrowed.

Stubborn. Younger guys were so stubborn.

She pulled the trigger and watched his other knee explode as the bullet met his target. The man screamed and she quickly knelt down, shoving her hand over his mouth and placing the still warm barrel against his forehead. Tears leaked out his eyes, making little dirt tracks through the grime on his skin.

“Where the fuck is she?” she screamed into his face and the sound was almost inhuman, gravel and fury warping it almost into a howl.

But he only shook his head, eyes defiant. Frustrated, she stood, looking at the meat cleaver in his hand and the human leg on the table. She didn’t have time for this. Ellie was out there and the situation was worse than she thought. Not even meeting his eyes, she raised the gun and shot him in the head. He wasn’t going to give her any information.

She raced back outside through the back door she had entered, heart in her throat and a panicked scream wanting to leave her lips.

The storm was picking up as an idea hit her. If she searched each building, there was no guarantee she’d find someone with information in time. She had to draw their attention. Maybe lure them out. They had wanted Ellie alive for the moment. If she could distract them, it may buy her time.

Chewing her lip, she kneeled behind the building and swung her pack around to dig through it. Her hand wrapped around a small glass bottle that had been carefully secured in the middle of her clothes and yanked it out along with one of her old shirts. They’d been saving it for emergencies, using it to sterilize what they could, but she needed it for something else now. Her face stung from the cold wind and her hands shook, but she managed to tear cloth and shove it into the liquor bottle, saturating the fabric, before she put her pack back on and stood.

Time to make a big fucking distraction.

Blocking the wind with her hands, she lit a match and watched as the tip of the cloth burned bright with flames.

With a snarl, she tossed the molotov through the window of the next building, ducking down and watching as the flames exploded inside. Screams and shouts followed, telling her there had been people inside, and she waited for more voices to join them. Someone would investigate or come outside.

Like clockwork, a man rushed out into the cold and she gripped her bloody knife at the familiar face. One of the men that had come back with Ellie. He cursed and ran through the snow, yelling that he was going to grab the fire extinguisher next door while the others scrambled to put the flames out. She followed, quiet, lava flowing through her and teeth bared. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. 

The wind blocked any sound she made as she rushed after him into the alley and lunged, shoving him into the cold brick wall with a loud crack. She growled and grabbed his hair, gripping it tightly and smashing it into the bricks once then twice. He tried to push away and turn, but she kneed him hard in the spine, driving him to his knees. “Where is the girl?” she snarled into his ear, knife to his throat. Blood poured down an open wound on his forehead, one eye blinded by red, as he finally took in who had grabbed him, “fuck you,” “Wrong answer,” she yanked his hair and slammed it into the wall again. When he went to raise his hand to fight her, she stabbed the blade through his hand and into the ground. His screams were carried away by the wind and snow, the shouts of his group telling her they were still distracted by the fire. “The girl your group grabbed,” the words were all razors and broken glass, almost the sound of an animal snarl, “Where did you take her?” He sneered at her, trying to put on a strong front through the pain, “That bitch is probably soup by now.” She stepped on the knife, the blade so far in his hand the hilt was pressing against the back, “I can make this last a fucking lifetime. Your choice. Where-” “Please, don’t-” Frustrated, she ripped the knife out and placed the tip just inside his mouth, “Last chance. Where is she?” The tip clinked against his teeth and he hung his mouth open to avoid being cut, his beard a mess of blood and spit and green eyes wide with fear finally. She tried not to feel satisfaction as seeing that, understanding setting in for him. He lifted his bloody hand and tried to point across the street, stuttering out, “Steakhouse. The fucking steakhouse. David has her in there.” She looked at him, eye swollen, and blood coating the front of his face, clearly terrified.

Slowly, she took the blade away, watching his lips wobble with sobs and slight relief. Then she slit his throat, continuing to move behind the buildings even as his blood sprayed out and soaked her clothes and his pleas gurgled and quieted.

The steakhouse was a few more buildings down across the street, “Todd’s Steakhouse” still written on the sign out front. The storm was a blizzard now, sharp stinging snow hitting her skin and turning the blood on her into patches of ice. There were yells, panicked screams, and she wondered if they had found the bodies. If they had found the blood and chaos she had left in her wake.

But with a destination in sight, she had let her guard down and she cursed herself later on for it. Arms wrapped around her torso, crushing the rifle into her back, and she kicked at the air as she was dragged back against a brick wall.

“You fucking bitch!” Screamed into her ear and she was tossed to the ground, teeth clattering from the impact.

A kick landed in her stomach and she grunted, the air leaving her lungs, but she had enough sense to grab onto the leg and cling to it. The move caught the man off balance and he tripped, falling to the ground next to her. Her blade was somewhere in the snow and she struggled to dig around for it, sharp steel nicking her fingers as she found it only to be thrown onto her back.

The man climbed on top of her, straddling her waist, his weight so heavy and her pack on her back making the move crushing. She grit her teeth and bucked, thrashing to try and get him off of her. But he only grinned, pulling back and decking her in the face. Stars lit up behind her eyes, a high pitch ringing all she could hear as pain exploded through her head.

He pulled back to punch again and her fingers found the cold metal in the snow. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the sharp steel cut into her palm as she grabbed it by the blade instead of the hilt, and stabbed it into his lower throat. She didn’t stop, only switching to pull it out by its handle this time, and stabbed again and again, blood reigning down onto her.

With a howl, she shoved him off of her and sent a final stab into his face, snow soaking into her and pain a radiating heat. Everything hurt and it was an effort to get up and roll onto her side, staring at the decimated body next to her. 

She spit blood on him and stood. There was smoke coming from all around her, the fire having caught from the molotov and moving on building to building. Across the way, smoke could be seen from the steakhouse and she swallowed her pain, letting adrenaline carry her to the front doors. Her hands shook as she tried the handles, pulling again and again but they stayed locked and shut. Growling, she threw her shoulder into it. She was so close. She had found the place and was so close and a locked fucking door was all that was keeping her away. Her breathing was quick and frantic as she looked over the front and tried to reason that there had to be a back door or an employee entrance. Her hands skimmed the wall to try and keep upright, knowing soon the exhaustion and pain would take over, but she tried to push it back. Ellie had to be close. She needed to keep going a little bit further and then she’d get her kid and they’d go get Joel. 

Her steps stumbled and she pushed off the wall, screaming at herself to stay steady. There, she could see the back door. Plain and wooden, easy enough to shoot the lock off and get inside. With shaky fingers, she unhooked the rifle from her shoulder, the weight of it almost unbearable, and took two shots to get the lock blown off. Her legs were shaky as she climbed the few steps and opened the door, smoke pouring out. She coughed and tried to wave it away, stepping inside and feeling the heat. She had taken only a few steps into the building and stopped, hearing a familiar voice. “Red?” Relief flooded her, eyes instantly filling with tears, as Ellie emerged from the smoke not too far in front of her. Ellie was there, hair a mess and half tumbling out of her ponytail, blood splattered and smeared all over her face and clothes. It took her a while to realize she was standing there, actually standing there, watching as the girl stumbled forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. 

Smoke and fire was all around them, but she couldn’t care because she had Ellie and they were both alive and safe now. With shaky hands, she managed to direct them back out of the building and into the cold, fresh air. Her promise rang in her ears and she whispered them out loud as she clung to the girl, “I found you. I found you. I’ll always find you.” And she had, but not quick enough. She knew that something awful had happened, that Ellie was now one step closer to being what her and Joel were. The tough exterior had crumbled away and all that was left was a shocked girl who’d had a piece of her soul cleaved away. Her nose was busted and she knew that look in her eyes, the horror and pain at doing something ugly but necessary. Ellie’s lips were shaking as she looked her over and she was so focused on the girl she almost didn’t see Joel coming around the corner. Joel, standing and whole and alive, coming towards them like Ellie was a gravity well pulling both of them towards her. His eyes met hers and the relief was bright, even if she was dripping in blood. But Ellie hadn’t noticed the shift in attention, hadn’t heard his steps, and when he went to grab her she bucked and thrashed in his arms in sheer desperation. So much like her, a wild animal fighting not to be caged. Her heart tore apart, shredded to pieces, at the painful screams then broken sobs as she realized who was holding on to her. 

Joel only kept whispering, “It’s me, it’s me, I’m here.” “He- I-” she stuttered, eyes glazed and searching both of theirs. Joel held on with all his might, trying to ease her, gentle words soothing. And the girl crumbled, falling into his arms and clinging to him tightly as much as he was clinging to her. His eyes met hers and she let the exhaustion hit her and carry her towards them, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around them both. All three of them, blood soaked, finally home with each other.

______________ Feral Reader Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x oc #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou #the last of us #feral reader #series: feral #raicodoll writes

[cc1010fox]

Rex: That number is your kill count? Fox: Roughly. Cody: I wasn't...expecting that to be honest... Wolffe: He's lying. Look, he wrote a number above it first, then crossed it out. That's the truth. Fox: No, that's the literal kill count. Cody: ... Rex: ... Wolffe: ... Fox: They were alive before we crossed paths. Rex: Oh...Most of our kills are-- Cody: Droids... Wolffe: I don't--How!? Fox: ...Why do you think I have so many awards? Wolffe: You...work hard? Fox: Doing what? Wolffe: Whatever the chancellor tells you to do. Fox: ... Cody: You protect the Senate. Fox: Coruscant. Rex: What? Fox: My duties extend beyond the Senate. I protect Coruscant. Wolffe: Ok, you protect Coruscant. Fox: ...From? Wolffe: Seppies? Fox: That's...part of it. Rex: ... Cody: ... Fox, popping his tongue against the roof of his mouth: Let me lay it out for you three. Fox: While you're out there sniping heads off of comedic relief training dummies, I have to deal with living, breathing, thinking beings. The living and breathing should make them easier to take down, but the thinking makes them unpredictable. I have to account for their individual beliefs, their morals...their sense of honor...all of which throw logic out of the window. It's not easy to land a droid army on Coruscant, so I don't get the pleasure of predictability too often. Rex: ... Fox: Instead, I have to deal with the citizens of this planet, too many of which don't want us here. They shout at us, abuse us, and have even started a market for us. You know...the skin and organ market. Yes and no. Yes, they have actually harvested our skin. No, I don't mean literal skin when I say skin market. Think collars and chains. How many times have you stood between a threat and the people you're duty bound to protect knowing at least one of those people have spat on your men, attacked them, used them like toys, or captured and sold them? My only comfort is knowing I can turn on them the second they're labeled a traitor to the Republic. And I can pick the worst of them off when there are no witnesses. Cody: ...That's-- Fox: On top of that, I have encountered creatures of nightmares because they just dwell in the bowels of this rotting planet or some pieces of garbage brought them here to sell. If you thought I was protected against watching my men get eaten by a wampa, you are sorely mistaken. Although it was the nexu that kept me up at night. For weeks. Who buys those things? Seriously...At least I put some of them down, but who knows how many they sold? Wolffe: ... Fox: The worst creatures are the ones I can't add to my kill count, though. The absolute worst is Chancellor Palpatine. He doesn't know what my job is and assigns me to literally every job in the Coruscant Guard. I have to do it personally. I'm the boss of the people who are supposed to do those jobs. He is the sole reason I will only sleep when I am dead. Fox: The second worst is 99% of the senators. Entitled, egotistical pricks. I would rather be distributed to desperate families looking for organs than catch the eye of any senator. Thire has to remember which ones show a little too much interest in the clones because we are at their mercy. He can't allow a shiny anywhere near them. If a Coruscanti attacks a clone, it's considered damaging government property, making them a criminal. If a senator attacks a clone, it's considered You better do what is best for the Republic and shut your kriffing mouth. Because treating a clone like a complimentary gift isn't betraying the Republic. Risking one of the Republic's delicate alliances is. Cody: Force, Fox... Fox: I deal with all of that while maintaining an impressive record of mission successes. That is why I have so many awards. Wolffe: ...You have awards, but do you want a hug? Fox: Desperately. All day. Every day.

#Commander Fox #Commander Wolffe #Commander Cody #Captain Rex #Coruscant Guard #Vencuyanir ‖ Queue

[nr1chaedickrider]

In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side - it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye.

In many ways, our memories shape who we are. They make up our internal biographies—the stories we tell ourselves about what we've done with our lives. They tell us who we're connected to, who we've touched during our lives, and who has touched us. They provide important details of who we are and who we would like to be.

for @namojoon.

The process of healing wounds is long, painful and exhausting.

Sometimes it hurts even more than what has happened.

At least that's how you would describe your healing process.

You look through the window of your small but pleasant house.

After Momo died - or rather, was murdered - you decided to stop serving as a knight for your kingdom for the time being.

Of course, you promised Tzuyu that she could always come to you in an emergency, that you would forever be a knight serving her kingdom without hesitation.

Letting go was difficult, sometimes you even had the feeling that Momo was still standing in front of you, laughing, crying and doing everything with you.

Maybe you still haven't let go completely, maybe you never will, you just know (or at least hope) that things have gotten better.

You still wonder what happened to Sana.

Even if you partly don't want to know, a part of your body -

a tiny part of your body -

worries about her.

And you hate yourself for it.

You walk through the kingdom, making a, well, daily detour by her grave.

You kneel down in front of the grave, brush down a leaf.

Every time you are there, you make sure that it stays clean, that there is no damage.

Somehow you have the feeling that you have to do it, but you don't mind.

"I love you" you whisper, your hand slowly stroking the engraved words.

You've partly gotten into the habit of not reading what's written on it, maybe it's a sign of ignorance.

But you just feel better if you don't have to read the words every time.

You don't always have to be reminded.

'Hirai Momo, a fighter, a person full of love'

You hate reading it every time.

You sigh softly and get up.

One last look at her grave - even though you know you'll be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and so on.

You wipe away the tear that runs down your cheek.

The path to the village is quiet, the birds are chirping, the wind is almost non-existent.

You greet the people who walk past you and realize that they still treat you differently.

Their eyes are full of concern.

The only thing people think of when they see you is -

"Poor her. I wonder how she's doing"

And you don't know whether you should think it's good or bad that that's all they think about.

"Y/n!" someone shouts, you turn around and see Chaeyoung walking towards you.

"I've been looking for you for the last few days, can you come with me?" she asks.

You're confused, but nod. She takes you by the wrist and pulls you along as you both walk to her house.

She sits you down on a chair in her living room as she walks around.

You know she often has a lot of energy - but this much?

She comes back with a small bottle, the contents liquid and yellow in color.

She looks at you after placing the bottle on the table in front of you.

"Okay. You have to listen to me, let me finish, because it's going to sound weird at first," she says, and you nod.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the multiverse?" she asks.

You shake your head - you've never been interested in all the theories, you've always preferred to think about what's happening in the present, what "makes sense" to you.

"Okay..." she starts to say, thinking before continuing,

"So, basically, the theory is the idea that the observable universe, the universe we're in right now, is only a part of the whole reality, and there's supposed to be a multiverse that contains numerous possible universes," she explains, and you look at her, slightly confused.

Chaeyoung takes a breath and tries to say it as simply as possible.

"It may be that you can travel through universes to see other situations and worlds, do you get the idea?" she asks.

"I think... but why are you telling me this? and why the bottle?" you reply.

"How can I say this..." she mumbles.

"Since... Since Momo is gone, I've been working on something, and I think... I think you can travel through the multiverse with this potion," Chaeyoung replies.

You look at her and feel your mood change completely when she mentions Momo.

"But... But why are you telling me exactly?" you ask.

"Because I need someone to try it out... and I think you deserve it the most. Because if it really works, you can see Momo in other universes.

In ones where she's not dead," she says.

In which ones where she's not dead?

You swallow as you look down at the floor, then back up at Chaeyoung.

"How likely is it that it will really work?"

"Pretty much," she replies.

"I'll do it," you say.

"Really? Are you sure? It could be dangerous"

"I have nothing to lose anyway"

Chaeyoung nods.

"No one can see you while you're traveling, which means you can go anywhere you want. But after a certain time, you may end up in another universe"

"Okay"

"Drink it, and when you feel dizzy, it will start to work" she says.

"I'll stay here and make sure everything goes well"

You nod and pick up the bottle.

"Okay" you say, but somehow you say it more to yourself.

You pull the cork out of the bottle and the pungent smell immediately hits your nose before you drink it.

You put the bottle back down and take a deep breath.

In and out.

In -

And out.

But before you can concentrate more on your breathing, you feel a stinging sensation in your head.

Chaeyoung is standing next to you, paying attention to how you're feeling.

"I think-"

You can't finish your sentence as your eyes suddenly close and it feels like you're being thrown around.

Your eyes open as you see lights everywhere, some colorful and some so dark you can't even call them lights anymore.

Your body floats and you try to look around, but your head won't move.

You try to reach somewhere, but you fall to the ground before you can do it.

The first thing you feel is grass under your fingertips.

You slowly open your eyes and look around, but the only thing you see are trees.

You stand up, pacing back and forth before you hear voices.

You walk through the bushes to see who's talking,

And even though you expected it, it's still so strange.

In front of you is Momo, holding a sword.

Opposite her - it's you.

It's like the first time you saw her.

"You shouldn't be here," says your other self.

"Says who?" asks Momo.

You run towards her and attack her, but Momo quickly moves out of the way.

This is a universe where you and Momo are enemies.

Just like at the beginning.

You continue to watch as the two of you fight each other.

Blades clashing, the tension high and thick.

"What are you doing here?" your other self asks through clenched teeth.

"What are you thinking? Hm?" Momo asks teasingly.

It looks like you've had enough, because you push her away -

and thrust the tip of the sword into her throat.

You are startled when you see it, Momo falls to the ground with a stupid grin on her face.

"That-...that was a mistake...," she says, choking on her own blood and your other self pulls out the sword.

The sight of Momo hurts your heart.

It reminds you too much of the night she died in your universe.

The fact that this is another universe though, calms you a little.

Your other self leaves Momo alone and walks away.

So you go to her, even though she can't see or feel you.

Her gasping for breath worries you as you kneel before her.

"Momo..." you whisper, even though you know she can't hear you.

You're actually just talking to yourself.

It's as if she's looking at you - and a part of you hopes so, so much that she'll somehow realize that you're there, that she'll somehow feel you.

You sigh softly, but not a disappointed sigh.

Momo stops breathing - stares into the distance without any emotion on her face.

The sight could make you cry.

But before you can look at her any longer, you feel something strange in your body.

The effects of the potion kick in again.

You stand up and look down at Momo one last time.

Your eyes close as the lights start to flicker again.

And again it feels like you're being thrown around.

You land on your knees on a floor, a stone floor to be precise.

Your eyes open and try to adjust to the light.

As you look around, you realize that you are in a church.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that it is the church in Tzuyu's kingdom.

You stand up and look around.

It is empty - except for two voices that break the silence.

You walk towards it - and see a confessional.

And then you see yourself, on your knees.

Your head is bowed as a priest comes to you.

"Why are you here, my child?" he asks in a calm voice.

"I have come to confess my sins, Father. I'm afraid I've done something bad." you reply, your voice has a hint of fear in it.

"What have you done?" he asks.

Your other self takes a breath and then starts talking.

"I was seduced by a woman. It's as if she stole my heart and took it as her own. I can't think of anything but her.

And I don't know what to do, father."

When you hear your words, you don't know how to react.

You wouldn't claim to be a religious person, but seeing you ask a priest for help somehow hurts your heart.

In this universe, you can't accept that you love Momo.

In this universe, you are afraid.

And this feeling is a little too familiar.

"My child, don't be afraid," the priest begins to say,

"It's good that you've come here to confess your sins to the Lord,

And he will forgive you for loving a woman. Pray for him every night,

and he will help you to stop,

and your heart will be yours again."

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to react.

You'd like to tell your other self that you should do what you want.

That it's completely stupid to listen to the priest.

That you should keep loving Momo.

As long as you have the chance.

But your other self nods, thanks the priest for his help and leaves the church.

You run after her, wondering where she's going.

"Y/n!" Momo shouts, running to you with a smile.

In this universe, you two are not knights.

"What were you doing in church?" she asks.

You're just two friends.

You shake your head and say that it was nothing important.

Momo doesn't ask any more questions, but takes your hand and says that she has to show you something.

She pulls the other you away and you are now standing alone in the village.

You look around and see Tzuyu walking around smiling.

It somehow makes you happier to see that she's doing well.

But you notice something -

She's holding a man's hand?

You look confused, and then it occurs to you.

Not in every universe is she with Dahyun.

And you think that's why Dahyun looks so sad as she walks alongside Tzuyu.

It somehow looks weird - seeing Dahyun and Tzuyu not linked together and giggling like teenagers in love.

Your confusion disappears pretty fast as the man gets distracted and Tzuyu shoots a smile at Dahyun.

Her cheeks flushed when she smiles back, her hand on Tzuyu's for a second until she pulls back to not raise awarness on them.

Dahyun is not a queen in this universe, but just a normal girl.

A normal girl who is hopelessly in love with her friend.

And somehow it reminds you a little of your situation.

You sigh slightly.

You walk in the direction Momo pulled your other self towards, but you fall to the ground and can't walk any further.

The effects of the potion are already kicking in again.

"So fast...?" you ask yourself as your eyes close.

The same thing happens again -

Your body is thrown back and forth, the lights flicker and after a certain amount of time you land on the ground.

The first thing you hear Momo's voice.

Then yours.

And finally -

Sana's.

Sana's voice?

Hearing her talk, so happy, without a care in the world, makes you angry.

And how you wish she could see you, because if she could, you'd kill her with your bare hands.

Without hesitation.

You get up and walk towards the voices.

The closer you get, the more you can hear what they are talking about.

You hear laughter -

and moaning?

Moaning?

And when you stand in front of them, you are more shocked than you have probably ever been.

Momo's hand is in your pants, Sana's mouth is on your neck.

In this universe, all is well between the three of you.

No hate, no sadness, no one betraying the other.

You keep staring at them - it's like you can't take your eyes off them.

Somehow this is a dream.

Maybe even the universe you would prefer to live in?

"I love you," Sana says, leaving kisses all over your body.

"I love you," says Momo as she pushes her fingers in and out of you.

"I love you too," you moan.

Sana loves you?

Momo loves you?

You love them both?

It's as if all your negative thoughts about Sana are gone - you just want to jump into her arms.

The sight brings tears to your eyes, seeing how this is your dream universe.

And somehow you are glad that you can feel yourself getting dizzy and that the potion is starting to work again.

Your eyes close.

When they open again, the sun blinds you.

You get up and look around you.

A small river, a meadow with beautiful, colorful flowers.

There are no houses nearby and you wonder where exactly you are.

You walk around a bit and realize how this place resembles the tales of paradise.

"Where am I..." you mumble.

Several meters further on, however, you finally see people.

Two people, to be precise.

And as you get closer, you see it.

Mina and Sana?

"Mina," says Sana, as if she had been looking for her for ages.

"Sana," Mina replies, with a smile.

While Sana is dressed fairly normally, Mina is wearing a white dress.

The fabric looks quite thin, fine patterns are depicted on the dress.

She looks like an angel.

"I've missed you so much" says Sana, her expression so... soft?

"I missed you too Sana" Mina says and comes closer, her arms open and Sana almost runs towards her.

They hug, and you even think you hear a sob from Sana.

The two slowly let go, Sana looking at nothing but Mina.

"I'm so sorry. I wish you were still here..." Sana says, wiping a tear away from her cheek.

"Don't be sorry Sana," Mina starts to say.

You question whether you're even in a universe right now, or whether you've landed here on a spiritual level,

However, this is Sana's last farewell to Mina.

You are here in a place where the dead can communicate with the living.

"It's not your fault Sana,

or anyone else's," she says.

Sana nods a little, the tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"I love you," says Mina.

"I love you too. Forever and ever." Sana replies.

As you listen to them, it all starts to make sense.

Sana didn't love you, or Momo, or anyone else.

She loved Mina, and she died.

That's why Sana was so angry with Momo.

"I will never forget you, I will never stop honoring you, until my last breath I will think of you." Sana says and Mina takes Sana's hand in hers.

Mina has a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Thank you for being here," says Mina.

"I wish you could stay here longer, but your time in paradise is slowly coming to an end Sana" she says, her thumb stroking Sana's hand.

"I know," she sighs slightly, but then smiles at Mina again.

"So this is our final goodbye?" asks Sana, Mina nods.

"I'll always be with you" says Mina.

Sana nods.

"I love you." she says again, and before Mina can say it back, Sana slowly dissolves and disappears.

Mina looks down at the floor and repeats Sana's words to herself.

When she looks up again, she looks you in the eye.

You look left and right to see if anyone else is standing there, but no.

She's looking at you, no one else.

She walks over to you and stops right in front of you.

"You're Y/n, aren't you?" asks Mina.

"Y-yes. You can see me?" you reply, and she nods,

"Have you been listening to us?" she asks.

"Yes,

I didn't know you and Sana had such a relationship" you say, Mina smiles a little.

"She doesn't like to talk about it. But yes, I was her lover" is Mina's answer.

You nod a little, trying to understand everything that has just happened.

Trying to understand how you can talk to a dead person.

"Momo told me about you," she says, breaking the silence.

"She told you about me? You talked to Momo?" you ask.

"Yes. I was watching when... when the accident happened" she answers.

"She told me that if she could, she would do anything to see you again," says Mina, raising her hand.

"Your potion is slowly losing its effect" Mina puts her hand on your forehead and you wonder what exactly is going to happen now.

But before you can ask anything, your eyes close.

As they open, you are blinded by a bright white light.

You stand up slowly and look around, but see nothing.

Everything is white, the floor is straight without any bumps or curves, and nothing is in sight.

This place looks like it does in dreams, when you try to escape but can't.

The more you walk around you realize that it makes no sense, everywhere is white and you are completely alone here.

"Y/n" you hear a voice behind you calling after you.

You don't move, don't breathe, don't even dare to blink.

"Y/n" the voice repeats.

You slowly realize that this moment is not a dream.

It is real.

You slowly turn around and look her in the eye.

Momo is standing in front of you.

Her clothes match the white surroundings, and you hate it.

She's dressed like Mina, like an angel.

You stare at her, trying to breathe evenly.

"Momo?" you say, but it comes out more like a question.

"It's real," she replies.

It is real.

You slowly calm down, or rather try to.

In some way it feels like the first time you saw her -

You unsheathe your sword and slowly walk towards the noise. Peering through the bushes, you see a knight.

Or rather, a female knight.

Her rather long black hair is tied up in a ponytail. Her forehead is covered by a fringe. You only see her side profile, but it's like she was gifted by Aphrodite. While she breathes, her plump, pink-ish lips slightly part. Her sword is stuck in the grass next to her. She sits on a bigger stone, her armor less than yours. Her chest and stomach are protected, a helmet in her left hand, but you can see her well-trained arms. A few veins peek out on her hands, probably because of the heat.

But wait a minute. She is a knight. A stranger in your kingdom, which you are supposed to protect.

You got too distracted and she used that.

Flashbacks of the first meeting come into your head, your mind full of them.

You walk slowly towards her, as if she were dangerous, as if she were an enemy you should be afraid of.

"I never thought you could be so emotional," says Momo, turning her head in your direction, which is now partially submerged.

"Me neither," you admit.

"It's strange. Being here, in the water. With you." you say and look at her too.

"We're enemies," she replies and laughs a little.

Unfortunately.

You think, but it scares you to say it.

You're standing right in front of her.

She's standing in front of you.

No imagination, not those stupid dreams you've always had since she left.

She's really standing in front of you.

"I feel like we've just met for the first time," you say, Momo laughs a little.

"I feel the same way," she replies.

You feel the tears coming.

Before you regret it, you move closer.

You kiss Momo on her lips, your hands on her hips, the grip so strong that someone could think you're afraid she'll suddenly just disappear.

And that's exactly your fear right now.

She kisses you back.

You kiss Momo.

Memories of your first kiss come flooding back.

You close the distance between the two of you, her soft lips on yours as she dares not move.

This time it's different.

It's not a stupid dream you're having because you're confused about your feelings for Momo.

It's all more real.

And you want it, so, so much.

You slowly pull back, Momo smiles at you.

"I- I missed you so much," you say as tears run down your cheek.

"I missed you too, believe me," she replies, wiping away your tears.

"I think about you every day, and... and I always visit your grave and and-" you start sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the situation.

Momo interrupts you.

"Shh... I know, trust me"

"I was there when you visited my grave, when you were talking.

I'm sorry I couldn't answer your questions," she says.

"Why not in this one?" you ask.

"Why couldn't you just find me in this universe?" you ask.

"I wish so much that I could have found you in this universe. So much." she says.

"You're so strong for handling it so well"

"But that's the thing. I don't handle it well,

Every time I just want to sleep, I dream about you." you reply, feeling the tears growing.

"Either I dream about you smiling at me. With that stupid grin that I miss so much..." you take a deep breath,

"Or I dream of your face covered in blood"

Momo looks at you,

and suddenly her face is covered in blood.

Sana's sword is suddenly stuck in her head before she pulls it out.

She topples over, onto the dirty ground, onto the grass.

She doesn't move, just lies there.

Not a single breath, no stupid grin, nothing.

"I dream so often about that one night..." you say quietly, your voice cracking while you try to hold back your tears.

"I know," Momo replies.

"I'm so sorry you had to watch it happen like that."

"I love you," you say.

"I love you too, so much," she replies.

You look at her, slightly startled, confused, surprised.

It's the first time Momo has ever said that she loves you.

The first and the last time.

"You have to go slowly," says Momo.

"The effect is wearing off"

You nod slowly.

"So this is our final goodbye?" you ask, Momo nods.

"I'll be with you forever" Momo says and hugs you tightly.

This time she is the one who is afraid that the other will dissolve.

"I will think of you and love you forever," you say.

You feel yourself getting dizzy again.

Momo sobs quietly, her nails dig into your body.

"It's okay," you say, even though you're still crying, but you try to calm her down.

"It's okay," you repeat.

It all feels so light as your eyes close.

You can't feel any arms on your body.

Momo no longer feels the body she was hugging.

Your eyes open rapidly and you look around.

Chaeyoung stands up from her chair and looks at you.

You look at her and wipe a tear away from your cheek.

"You made it," she says.

You nod.

"The potion worked..." she says and picks up something to write down, probably something about this experiment.

You get up slowly and walk to the front door,

"Before you go," Chaeyoung says -

"The idea for the multiverse, and for this potion,

actually came from Momo"

You look at her and smile,

You close the door behind you and leave her house.

In this Universe, you live without Momo, and you're starting to accept it.

Because deep in your heart, you know that she is always with you.

So when you hold out your hand while walking home,

you know that she is holding it.

#wlw #twice imagines #twice smut #twice x reader #girl group smut #twice ff #chaeyoung x reader #spotify #momo x fem reader #momo fluff #momo smut #momo x reader #momo angst #momo #twice angst #twice fluff #momo imagines #twice fanfic #twice fanart #twice fic #nayeon smut #jeongyeon smut #sana smut #mina x reader #jihyo smut #dahyun x reader #tzuyu smut #feeling silly #lesbian #sapphic

[xhanelia]

I’ve discovered your blog and it’s single handedly feeding my current valorant obsession, I love your writing so much. With that said, could I please request a some fluffy confession scenes with Sova or possibly Chamber? Thank you so much!

I will abandon this page istg i hate tumblr but this is a request i can write in one go so here i am at 00:43. Lets see when i'll finish it. (Im done and its 03:00)

<<<The reader is another agent in the protocol in this fic. Sova part is GN and Chamber part is female reader. >>>

Hope you like it! And thank you sm!!

Confession headcannons with Sova and Chamber

He is the hollywood star of hiding emotions and pressing them in so no one can tell what he really feels or who is the person he has eyes on. Exept himself ofcourse.

He is not some kind of "i'll built up my emotions inside so i wont hurt anyone" kind of person. He knows he shouldnt hide them too long or it can cause damage. He talks about his problems to Brim like everybody does. But not love, ofcourse.

He thinks that he shouldnt feel like this to a coworker. Not that there isnt any couples in the HQ. There is Raze and KJ and he knows that Brim allows it.

He is probably scared of you rejecting him. If so, there will be a moody aura between whenever you two need to team up for a mission. He cannot allow that. That will effect both of your morals and the performance.

But every second he is not speaking about his feelings is like a torture to him. Like all of his energy is drawn out of him when he returns from a mission or just from trainings.

Spending his day at his room, not practising archery, not having conversations much often, sitting in the plane and looking out of the window while going to a mission rather than giving courage to people is not like him. Something is bothering him. Clearly.

You went to sit next to him. He immediately turned his head to you. "Did something happened?" He asked.

"I should be the one asking you that." You said. He stared at you for a good 15 seconds.

"Lets have this conversation after the mission." He suggested with the pressure of his own feelings. It was getting too much for him to handle. You did not pressed on it. The mission was a short one after all. Everyone did good and went back to the HQ with the same plane.

He immediately regret his choice of words when you stood infront of him when he tried to get out of the plane. He was planning to found an excuse but he didnt had the time to think about that.

"Umm..." he said trying to get some time to think. You lift a brow, implying that you both know why you are in his way.

"Lets talk about it when no one is around, shall we?" He said while bending over you a little.

"There is no one around, Sasha. You took unexpectedly long to leave the plane." You said. You were not letting him escape again.

He sighed. Looking around, really no one was left at the landing field. He grabbed your arm and getting you two both out of the plane. The sky was open and orange with the sunset of the beautiful winter.

He held both of your hands. You could feel the shake of them. It was ironic that the sniper of the protocol's hands was shaking that easily before you.

"You dont have to say anything, its better if we pretend that i said nothing, but..." you tilted your head and frown at the words. "I am in love with you." He says.

He is too scared to look you in the eyes or hear the words that will come out of your mouth so he continues to speak.

"I was too scared that our friendship will never be the same after my confession so i kept this feelings inside but they didnt stop growing. I felt like i was drowning and couldnt hide it anymore. I am sorry if i ruined our friendship and-"

He stopped after hearing your laugh. Did he said something stupid? Was this so childish for him to do? Why were you laughing?

"You were hiding this from me? For how long?" You said. He got confused. "Uhh... for... over 4 or 5 months?" He said, unsure about when he got this crush over you.

"You should have told me from the start silly. I like you too!" As you said, his eyes lit up with the happiness. Holding your hands tighter, he asked. "Really? Are you real? You are not saying that because you dont want me to feel bad, do you?"

With your head shake as a no, he hugs you while both of you laugh with joy. And there goes your first kiss with him. Under the orange sky with the blow of an air like a celebration of the nature for both of you.

Mhm. We all know this man aint hiding nothing. He shall show you and everyone that he has eyes on you so that nobody can steal you from him untill he officialy takes you out.

Yea i feel like he would take you out to an extra expensive restaurant to confess, even the offer itself looks like the confession already.

"Chamber, you really dont have to." You say while hanging the vandal back to its place. Training was over and the french man knew your schedule from head to toe. It was impossible for him to miss any of your free times.

"Please, the randevu was made from weeks ago. Plus, if it isnt going to be you then who is it?" He says while giving you the card of the restaurant. On the card, it was written the place of the restaurant (i will die from this stuffy nose istg i cannot write) with the date and time of the randevu with his fancy handwriting.

You gave a smile to him. Not often you got this kind of... um... take outs? (I forgor the word in english) He was generous to offer you this. Altough it was clear why he did this.

You contact Brim to clear that day but he said that Chamber did it for you. Then you discover that nearly everyone knows about the "take out" that you guys will have.

"O. M. G. You know that he will confess you that night, right?" Jett said while cutting cucumbers to put on her eyes but Phoenix eats them trying not to get caught. The girls night is getting little heavy on you. (Pho is one of the girls idc.)

"Yea, yea, i know. Who doesnt." You said while rolling your eyes. Trying to not pop the conversation much.

"I mean, i didnt got a confession in a fancy restaurant." KJ said while looking at Raze. Who has no idea whats going on.

"Well, im okay if he wants to do it this way but im not sure if i'll fit in that kind of atmosphere. Everyone and everything is so expensive. You know." You said while shaking your shoulders.

"Are you kidding me? That french has his eyes on you. You think he will matter if you fit in or not?" Neon lifts the cucumbers from her eyes and looks at you from the couch. You lift your hands sideways as to tell you dont know.

"We will make you fit." Phoenix says with excitement. "What is the date?" He asks while everyone awaits the answer from you.

Eventually, the date comes. Everyone you gave the date is more excited than you. Preparing your dress, makeup and everything like its a doll dressing game.

When it comes to Chamber, he was ready more than ever. It was like classic Chamber yet so different. He had his 'special occasion suit' on him and a smug smile on his face. He offers you his arm and you take it.

(You go to the restaurant but its getting too late and i need some sleep so imma skip that part.)

"So..." he says while you both sit face to face, eating dinner. He had studied this for over how many times and yet he is still nervous. You turned your look at him and raise a brow.

"We both know why we are here, Vincent. I like you too. You dont have to give me a whole speech." You said. Drinking some of the wine to cover your face and overexcitement.

He laughs at your boldness. "Its open like a book, isnt it?" He looks straight into your eyes. You feel like they could pierce through you. "Thats my girl. Bold and smart as always" He says. "You dont need a brain to see that you have eyes on me." It was your time to laugh.

He looks at you with that stupid smirk on his face. Like he truly fell in love if you. "I love you." He says. Giving up on the talk he had prepared. He felt like it was the only thing he needed to say.

Even if that three words was the only thing he said, they made your heartbeat race up immediately. With a giggle, you hold his hand that is on the table. "I love you." You said. The only thing he said and the only thing he needed to hear from you was the same nontheless.

#valorant #headcanon #sova #sova valorant #valorant sova #sova headcannons #sova x reader #valorant x reader #chamber #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #chamber headcannons

[problematic-weather]

Ointments and Bandages (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Sherlock Holmes x GN! Reader

summary: after another solved case, it seems sherlock and enola are caught up in a storm— and underestimated the severity of the storm and their injuries. battered and bruised, they stumble upon a small cottage. who would’ve known that it’d be a home to the countryside herbalist? and it seems sherlock finds peace and interest in the pain.

word count: 2.3k+

it’s really just fluff and teasing, and was self-indulgent to get out of a writing slump

warnings: unedited, and i did not watch enola holmes 2 yet ;(( GIF NOT MINE!

Before Sherlock had opened his eyes, a concern that drowned in his mind is that he was nowhere near London. Nor where they were supposed to have gone after concluding the case. The tiniest shift sent a spike of discomfort through him, an aching feeling hard to ignore throughout his body– pulsing the most around his ankle. 

Sherlock had already gone down the list of things possibly wrong; evaluating himself and the damage that had befallen him before he had finally peaked open an eye.

Sunlight was his welcome. An abundance of it, as well as the earthy smell of nature. It was then confirmed, he was definitely not in the streets of London, nor in the confines of his flat. Green was the next color seen, as his eyes adjusted. Plants of all sorts hanging from the roof, and an array of dried leaves and grass hung across the wall. He stared down at himself, inspecting the cuts and burns covered with bandages, a green trail of liquid flowing down one of his arms. Where was he–

“About time you’ve risen, Sherlock.” Enola grinned, walking closer to her brother, a kettle in her hands. “We thought you wouldn’t budge till sundown.” Sherlock’s brow raised as he attempted to sit upright, groaning in the process of his ankle shifting off the chair (as a rest), the wrap loosening as well. 

“I’m sorry,” he inhaled, “‘We?’”

Enola grinned as she settled the kettle down on the table near him, rustling with the fabric dangling around her arms. There, Sherlock noticed the change of clothes his sister was currently wearing. Bigger clothing, looser, and much more available pockets– more than likely deeper as well. The type of clothing that was convenient for someone who dwells in the countryside, rather than the bustling streets of the capital. 

“Yes, ‘we.’ Very generous, they are. Letting us in during the storm and dressing our wounds. You were left down here, due to your inability to walk and symptoms of fever– I was barely able to walk the stairs, though, in much better condition than you were.” Enola smiled widely, “I doubt you remember any of it.” 

Sherlock hadn’t. Fragments of images flashed through his mind: the storm, the solved case, the guilty aristocrat, chasing the aristocrat– fighting the aristocrat, and ending up in the doorway of a house through the horrid storm. Ah, there does it. 

“Now that you’ve awakened, I’ll go and alert the–” 

“No, Enola. We need to leave.” 

That’s when Sherlock noticed the figure. Or, the owner of the cottage. Through the oak-framed window, skin glowing in the sun’s light as fingers gently trailed along the various vegetation through inspection– lost in thought. 

Sherlock continued to watch as they slowly continued to walk towards the window, eyes scanning the different species before finally deciding, pricking the plants before tying and positioning them into the basket properly. 

“Ah!”  Enola called out your name, waving enthusiastically as she gestured towards the kettle. “It’s finished!” 

A laugh was an immediate response, hands dusting themselves against the now-dirtied apron. “I’ll join you in a moment, Enola.” Eyes wandering across the room, finally stopping and lingering on Sherlock. 

“It seems the last guest will also be joining, isn’t he?” Sherlock responded with a simple nod, confused at the pleasant welcome. As you disappeared from view, Sherlock turned to his sister. Before he could question her once again, Enola cut him off. 

“Do be polite, and ask not as many questions as you’d like to partake in.” Sherlock’s mouth opened slightly, eyes gleaming with feigned offense. 

“I beg your pardon. Out of the two of us, are you not the most inquisitive? Jotting notes in a scramble and accusing the–” Enola shushed him loudly, walking over. 

“Alright alright! There’s no need to bring up past efforts. Just don’t bombard.” 

“I certainly will not. But given our situation, a few questions are certainly in order.”

The door adjacent to the fireplace creaked open, revealing you. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Holmes. I do hope you haven’t suffered a great deal recovering on that chair.” Sherlock tore his eyes off his sister and provided a small smile to his healer.

“Of course not, I apologize for the inconvenience I might have caused throughout our stay.” A hand raised in the air and dismissed his apology, footsteps groaning against the floor as you drew closer. Scanning his injuries, the smile on their face faltered. 

Turning away, Sherlock watched as your hands and feet moved with familiarity. Straining the golden liquid from the kettle into two cups, pushing them forward to both of the Holmes’ hands. 

“Tumeric and ginger tea. Though, if you’re not a fan, I’ve noticed a few ginger slices dipped in honey would be more than adequate for both of your sakes. Being injured and such.” Sherlock and Enola offered their gratitude, quietly taking a sip each. 

“I must ask,” Sherlock started, lowering his cup first. “Why would you let us in?” 

“I wouldn’t have a clear answer to give you,” you replied, pouring another cup for themselves. “I planned on turning you away, but the guilt would eat at me for refusing shelter for two strangers in the brute of a storm.” 

“And if we were dangerous?” 

“Then, I guess that would be unfortunate on my account. No one ever really is in these parts though, wandering travelers or villagers asking for simple ointments.” Sherlock’s brow raised as he took another sip. 

“A profession in medicine?” 

“On the contrary, I merely dabble in it and such. Your common street doctor in London holds much more qualifications–” 

“And yet,” Enola cut in, “You have reduced the swelling of my brother’s ankle, the burns, and cuts on our bodies, as well as lowered our feverish heads.” 

“I still wouldn’t–” 

“I would have to agree with Enola as well,” Sherlock grinned. “For a herbalist that simply ‘dabbles,’ your skill has reduced our condition a great deal.”

A bright smile tugged on your face, one Sherlock could only describe as infectious. There seemed to be a certain air about you– a mood or comfort that trailed along with your steps. A simple life, but complex within the mind of an individual who welcomes injured strangers, and heals them into full health. A skill to aid with absolutely no knowledge of their patient, but does it with the notion of being good. 

Being better. 

Something that Sherlock had forgotten, being wrapped up in the cases and twisted lives of England. It was almost endearing. 

“You both are too kind for your own good. You both may have to stay the night if you’d like. Before dawn, tomorrow, I can request that you both ride in the back of one of the villager’s carts.”

“That would be gracious of you, but too much, really,” Sherlock rejected, ignoring the look of his sister’s shooting glare. “You’ve already tended to us enough. We’ll be on our way to report back as quickly as we can.” 

“It isn’t a bother, but if you wish. Enola, before you go–” you grinned, staring at the girl in question with a small wink. “Why don’t you go outside and check the sundial? Or try the trick I showed you. I know you–” 

“Absolutely!” Enola agreed, grabbing at the full-sleeves, hiking them up and past her forearms. Scurrying out of the room, a smile crept onto your face. As you turned to face the older Holmes, you noticed he had a small one as well. A tiny upturn on the right side of his face as he stared at the door she had ran out of. 

“She’s a very bright kid, very interested in everything around her.” You complimented, walking around and opening drawers with the needed wraps. “I wonder if she gets it from her older brother.” 

His frown vanished, though the idea had made his mind turn. 

“I certainly hope not. She’s much more free and impatient to know the in’s and out’s of everyone she comes across. I’m afraid that gets her in more trouble than she wants.” 

You hum as a response, placing the materials on the table near him, and pulled up a stool to sit on. 

“I need to redress your wounds,” you offered, hands stopping in front of his forearm, hovering over the old bandages. 

“Of course, thank you, once more.” Unraveling the bandage and discarded it to the side, you reach out and grab a cloth, wiping away the mixture of plants and grim. Adding a new salve to his wound, you slowly bandaged it up and continued to the next. 

A comfortable silence fell onto the two. As you continued from one small injury to the next, careful hands and skillfull analysis to use different mixtures in vials to apply and dress once more. It was until you reached for his ankle, and made slight contact, did you hear a quiet hiss. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. A hand supporting his heel as the other peeled away at the wrapping, showcasing the tiny splotches of soft purple. You scootched your stool closer, resting the ankle on your lap. 

“I’m going to have to touch around the ankle, unless it’s–”

“Do as you must.” 

You nodded slowly, ignoring the flush of embarrassment attempting to flood through. With skilled hands, you slowly move around the different parts of his ankle, rubbing and squeezing gently. 

In doing so, your eyes slowly look up again at him. He seems calm, for the most part– but with eyes staring intently at his ankle, there might’ve been an area you had missed. 

As hands trail upward and circle around the malleolus (yk, the bony ankle joint– the circle-like one, yeah, that one), his breath had hitched. Mouth frowning as he focused more, you had gotten your answer as to where. Now, the question was how bad. 

“I find it inspirational that your sister is such a free personality,” you trailed off. Sherlock’s eyes were torn away from his injury, and you could feel them settling onto you. You slowly continued to feel around the bone, and carried on. 

“It may bring in the possibility of danger, but I believe that comes with the package of expanding your connections and personalities.” 

“Arguably, yes. However, with the occupation we serve, the outcome of meeting a foe rather than a friend can outweigh those ‘personalities.’” 

“Perhaps that’s what makes her feel free. Being passionately curious and unlocking everyone’s own inner workings.” 

“Yes, but in the circumstance of high stakes, a few simple mistakes can threaten her life of her and–” 

At that moment, you squeezed the under part of the joint, and Sherlock winced terribly. Completely thrown off, you hid the thought of cracking a smile. 

“Well then, it seems you have a bruised bone, Mr. Holmes. The tea and ointment helped reduce your inflammation, at least. Nothing a few days of–” 

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock started, glaring at you. “Did you–” 

“Distract you? Yes, and it worked. I heard a rumor that detectives liked argumentative conversation,” you joked. “Clearly, it’s true.” 

Reaching out a simple salve, you smeared a thin layer around the bone– massaging it quickly in the process. 

“Don’t be discouraged, I did enjoy the topic. And I believe mistakes are good to make.” 

“And how so? Or is this another attempt to distract and assault me?” 

“Assault?” A loud laugh coursed through you before you realized, “Rude, but I won’t object. I’d be a fool to reveal my true intentions before you’ve interrogated me.” 

“I just think mistakes help us, sometimes. You’ll accept failure better, you learn, and you counter them in the future as you grow.” You muttered.

Grabbing a fresh bandage, you lifted his leg once more and slowly wrapped it around it. You knew he wasn’t staring at the bandage this time, but you, as you silently tended to him. 

Honesty, you’d look if you knew you could handle it. Truly. 

But a man such as Sherlock Holmes is hard to look at, you came to the conclusion. Especially when you’ve teased him; a man you’ve just met, your first conversation too. There was always the tiniest bit of embarrassment when offering a quote worth of “wisdom.”

“You both seem to be good people, and something tells me if Enola finds trouble… you’ll be there to protect her. As impatient and free as she may be in her youth.”

You finish wrapping his ankle and tie a small knot. With a final look of satisfaction, you clapped twice. 

“That should be everything, I believe. I’d suggest not leaning all your weight just yet, leave it ‘til the weekend. Or until your doctor urges otherwise.” 

But as you raised your head, you realized your words may have fallen on deaf eyes. Sherlock seemed lost in his own world, fingers tapping against the wooden table in a quiet rhythm. As the silence began to be uncomfortable, he spoke: 

“You’re a peculiar puzzle piece.” 

The sudden observation raised interest in you, paired with much confusion. 

“Should I be flattered?

“Do you find it flattering?”

“I would need you to elaborate before I can say for certain.” 

“A false-edge piece, specifically. That is all I will say on the topic.” 

If you weren’t as stumped at Sherlock’s vague explanation, you would’ve caught the small, lopsided smile and huff of amusement. 

The steps of the youngest Holmes burst in suddenly, eyes wide. 

“We have a quarter and four hours until sundown.” 

Enola’s eyes gleamed hopeful, waiting for her brother to respond. 

Sherlock had given you a quick glance, before giving his sister a wide grin. 

“I guess that means we’ll have to stay the night. If, it isn’t a bother,” he quickly adds, as he says your name. “I’ve quite enjoyed our talk, doctor. A night more may better my condition.”

Heat flamed across your face, as you watched his eyes shine with challenge.

“I’d be honored.”

—————————

thanks! hope you enjoyed! <3

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #henry sherlock holmes x reader #henry!holmes x reader #henry!sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #henry cavill x reader #Henry!Sherlock #enola holmes #problematic-weather

[ateriblewriter]

Not Like This {2} (q.h)

a/n: im sorry. i dont feel like this is my greatest. prove me wrong. please let me know if y’all want another part. i have maybe 2 more parts.

warnings: sad. sickness. possible looming death.

Enjoy!

part1 part3

“There’s not much more we can do right now. It’s a waiting game. We always knew there was a possibility this day would come Quinn.” The doctor informed Quinn that the inevitable was coming sooner rather than later. Dr. Pete had been there with the couple through this whole ordeal that started just before baby Theo was born.

A month before baby Theo was born Y/N had a cold. Or what she had thought was the cold. After a week of coughing and fatigue, her heart would start rapiding racing with a constant pain in her chest. After all the tests and scans that had been ordered Y/N had been diagnosed with a heart condition that should have cleared up weeks after the baby had been born.

But of course nothing was ever that easy in life.

“What about that transplant you mentioned last time we were here? Is that still an option?” Quinn ran his fingers through his hair. This couldn’t be happening, not yet at least.

Looking through the window of your room, he watched Y/N holding a giggling Theo on your lap, the most beautiful smile dancing around her face. Quinn hated how fast everything was coming to an end. He needed his family, Theo was going to need his mother. He had to have more time with her.

“We talked about this at the last appointment. Y/N isn’t exactly at the top of the list. If we would be able to get our hands on a viable heart, with how weak her body is there is no telling if it would even actually take.” The doctor reminded him of the meeting they had a couple of months ago.

“My heart is getting worse isn't it?” Y/N asked her boyfriend when he entered the room. Quinn had just gotten done speaking with the doctor again, about their options to slow the damage to being done to it.

“The medication is working anymore, and they don't know if your body would withstand the open heart surgery that you would need for a transplant.” Quinn wanted to hit something. He had all this anger built up inside him and he needed a release. If he was anywhere but here he would hesitate to take something out.

Y/N tried not to get worked up in her current state. Y/N weakly raised her hand to cover her cough that sounded pretty bad, but that was normal for her condition. Once the small fit was over Y/N tried speaking again.

“I just want to go home, I don’t want to be here. Please Quinn. I. I.” Y/N wheezed, breathing heavily. Quinn grabbed the baby out of its mother’s arms. Y/N was struggling. He hated watching her like this. But how are you supposed to react when you’re dying?

Looking anywhere other than at his girlfriend in bed, Quinn noticed the time was getting closer to Theo’s naptime. He grabbed a bottle to feed to the child and sat on the opposite side of the bed. He knew what she was asking. He also knew it was going to spring her from this joint. “Maybe we could visit Michigan, get the gang together one last time.”

“Babe, you need to stay here. What if a heart becomes available. What if.” Quinn looked Y/N up and down in her sweaty state. He didn’t like this. They were supposed to have more time. She was supposed to be there for his hockey career, and when Theo took his first steps on the ice. They were supposed to get married one day, have more kids, and grow old together.

“Be realistic. Someone is going to be dying and giving me their heart anytime soon. Quinny I’m going to be the one dying” Y/N cut him off, her breathing even more ragged as she was still pretty worked up. Her chest heaving up and down at a rapid pace, trying to calm herself down.

“Hey, hey, hey. Breathe.” Quinn held Theo in one arm and ran his other hand up and down Y/N’s back trying to soothe her with another coughing fit over taking her. This time a pink colored flem made its way up.

“I don’t want to die here. Quinny please.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her as the tears streamed down her face. He wasn’t the one with a heart disease, but watching the one he loved the most breakdown broke his heart.

Any treatment they tried now was most likely not going to work and maybe it was best if they just went home. With it being the middle of the hockey season, Quinn was positive that he couldn’t get all their friends to Vancouver much less Michigan. It would be an impossible feat. But for you he would do everything in his power to get you what you wanted.

“Alright, Babe. I’m going to go talk to someone about getting you released.” Quinn got off the bed and walked over you. He kissed the top of your sweaty forehead. “I don’t think it’s the best to travel right now but maybe they can come here. I’ll make some calls to my family and your brother. Maybe some of the guys can come out.”

please let me know what y’all think. i’d love to hear any thoughts, comments, or complaints.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #quinn hughes fic

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from three anons! This Imagine is smutty… optionally! There will be a hyphen to indicate it. So if you’d like some fluffy Loki only, you can stop reading there! If you want some smutty action, keep reading! Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 2564 Warnings: pure fluff, (optionally) smut, anxiety, period sex

You knew when you woke up that morning that this day was going to suck. Cramps tormented you from the moment you opened your eyes. When you hurried to Loki’s washing chambers—ignoring how your vision went black for a moment from jumping up so fast—you reached the toilet just in time to avoid further damage.

A small trickle of red already ran down your inner thighs, making you sigh. You cursed.

Loki was already up and about, of course, you appreciated how he let you sleep in when he had to act on his kingly duties. Right now, however, you were even gladder you were alone so you could sulk and pity yourself in peace. Stupid period, stupid cramps, stupid uterus!

If there was one thing you had not thought about upon moving to Asgard with Loki, it was the fact that you were a menstruating individual. And now that meant that you hadn’t thought of bringing pads and tampons with you.

Cursing once more, you cleaned yourself up and got dressed, using a small hand towel to prevent any damage to your underwear until the maid arrived to clean Loki’s chambers—surely, she had a solution for you. Until then, you would have to find the man in question to help you relieve your pain. He had done it before. Loki knew a spell that could ease your pain as if it was nothing.

Heading outside, the hallways were quiet for a while, leaving you alone with your footsteps echoing through the palace. You knew the way by now and even though it could feel rather lonely at times to release Loki to do his job and be… well, king, you were happy to have agreed to life in a different realm, with him. If only, however, that would stop those nagging thoughts you harboured in the back of your mind and that you never quite managed to switch off. Mean little voices in your head making you question why Loki would choose you over all those beautiful Asgardian women you had met since your arrival. You were nowhere near as powerful, nowhere near as beautiful as them, no? You certainly had no special, otherworldly skills and you were not immortal. With Loki’s reputation as a Trickster and Deceiver, you hated yourself for sometimes asking yourself if he truly loved you as he claimed… or if you were but a funny joke to him.

The fact that you were on your period right now didn’t exactly help with that sentiment and made you all the more emotional towards your current situation.

It wasn’t until you moved around the corner only a few more turns away from the throne room that you suddenly heard a couple of female voices. A group of women, presumably chatting sitting on one of the broad window sills near the ground. Your heart dropped the closer you got and picked up on what they were saying.

“He hasn’t even gotten engaged to her yet anyway. I say she’s hardly queen material. I bet she’s just a plaything for him. I mean, please… a human queen for Asgard? She’ll be dead before our kids hit puberty. What could she possibly contribute to the Aesir community? To this entire realm?”

That stung. More than you would have liked to admit. If you knew a different way to the throne room, you would have turned on your heels now. But you didn’t. You had to get past these gossiping witches.

“Have you seen her?” They continued as you approached them. “She doesn’t fit Asgardian garments at all. She isn’t even exceptionally pretty. I just don’t understand why he would prefer her over me.” What? Who was this woman? Your heart skipped a beat, the woman in question finally in sight—and of course, she was stunning. They all froze when they spotted you, except for her. She only raised an eyebrow at you.

“Can I help you?” She asked. There was no need to answer, really. Perhaps it was your period that made you snap.

“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking about me behind my back so poorly. At least make sure I don’t know of it, that’s the whole point. And don’t think for one second that Loki won’t hear of this,” you threatened, hurrying away before she could respond to you—or catch a glimpse of the tears in your eyes.

But it was a lie. You wouldn’t tell Loki of this. What could he possibly do about it? Or worse… he might realise that they’re right about you… that you’re just a silly little mortal not worthy of his time and affection.

Swallowing thickly, you sneaked into the throne room, the sound of Loki’s smooth voice instantly calming your nerves. He was talking to a farmer, discussing crops and prices you knew nothing about. As soon as he caught sight of you, however, his entire demeanour changed, yet he remained composed.

“Are you quite content with this temporary solution?” He asked the farmer.

“More than happy, my king. Thank you,” he responded. He bowed and then left the throne room. Once he was out the door, Loki turned to you, waving you towards him with a smile. It was hard to reciprocate it with those stupid cramps.

“Leave us for a moment,” he told the guards who nodded mutely and then left the room as well. You approached him, allowing him to drag you onto his lap so you were straddling him.

“Good morning, pet…” he mused, stealing a kiss.

“Morning…”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm…”

“What’s wrong?” Butterflies awakened in your belly when he brushed a streak of your hair behind your ear. Of course, Loki would notice instantly that you were not feeling well.

“I was wondering if you could do that spell again? Like you did when I had a headache?”

“Are you in pain? Where?”

“Period cramps,” you murmured.

Loki raised his eyebrows. “I see…” Without questioning you any further, he put his palm against your lower stomach. Your entire body tingled when he enchanted you, willing the pain away. You let out a sigh of relief, leaning your forehead against his.

“Thank you…”

The tears in your eyes still did not want to disappear. So you closed them, hoping that Loki would not notice. But of course, the God of Mischief was incredibly perceptive. He frowned at you.

“Is everything alright? Did something happen?”

You quickly shook your head. “No. I mean… no, nothing happened, not really. I guess I’m just overly anxious and emotional today, is all.”

Loki took a deep breath. “We can talk about it in my chambers later. Wait for me there and rest. I will ask the maid to bring you something to eat in the meantime. No need to head to the dining room for breakfast.”

You nodded, too tired of your feelings to protest—not that you wanted to. Obeying your Asgardian boyfriend, you gave him one last passionate kiss and then returned to his chambers. You asked the maid for some… products for your circumstances and she returned with reusable underwear that unlike period underwear from Earth would absorb both the blood and the smell to the point you could wear them for a few days straight.

With the pain gone, some snacks, and some of Loki’s books, you crawled back into bed once the maid was gone and passed the time by reading more about the realm you had moved to. Normally, Loki retired when the sun began to set.

Needless to say, you were hence surprised when shortly after noon, you heard him enter his chambers to find you in the bedroom area.

“Tell me what happened.” It was the first thing he said when he entered his chambers, concern spread on his face. He had returned a lot earlier than usual today. Part of you beamed that it was because he had been thinking about you, the other was still drowning in feelings you did not want. Stupid, stupid period!

“N-nothing happened,” you lied. Fuck this. You could already feel the tears burning in your eyes as you spoke. Loki sat down on the bed, joining you. His armour vanished to give way for more comfortable clothing. You shivered when he spoke your name.

“Oh, nothing. I overheard a group of Asgardian girls gossiping about me this morning. One of them even said you’d be better off choosing her over me.”

Loki sighed. “Hmm… was she blonde? Green eyes?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That was Amora. We used to be… romantically engaged… but that was a very long time ago. She is an Enchantress, I only still keep her around the palace because of her skills. What did she say?”

He spoke about her with such indifference in his voice that it gave you hope. You still didn’t want to tell him. So why were the words spilling from your mouth regardless?

“Did she insult you?”

“Not directly but… Loki, what if they’re right?”

“About what?”

“I’m just a mortal. I’m not special. I don’t have any special powers and I can’t even help you with all that king business that keeps you so occupied. See, when Thor found Jane, she became a second Thor and I’m not even…” You swallowed thickly, noticing now how the tears ran over your hot cheeks. “I’m not even as beautiful as your ex-girlfriend. As any of them. Why on Earth would you choose me over any of them?” You choked out, the last couple of syllables swallowed by an attack of sobs.

For a brief moment, it almost seemed like Loki didn’t know what to do with you. Then, however, he did what helped you the most. He wrapped you in his arms and held you until you had calmed down again.

“Why would you think such a thing?  If anything…” He paused. “If anything I should be worried if you should be with me after all I’ve done to your planet. And still, you chose to trust me. You are right. You are not as beautiful as them,” he said, pulling you close to him. “You are more beautiful.”

-

He smirked at you then—mischievously. “And it seems I’ll have to prove it to you,” he purred. You laughed when he tickled your sides, scaring away the last of your tears.

“Loki, I’m… still on my period, you know.”

The God of Mischief frowned. “Are you still in pain?”

“No but… I mean… I’m bleeding out of my vagina, that’s usually where your cock goes.”

You almost chuckled when he tilted his head. “You make it sound like that is going to stop me from ravishing you. Hmm, I know exactly what to do with you to make you feel better…” He promised.

Gasping, you looked at him for a second. “I mean… I guess I don’t mind the blood if you don’t. But we should, um… put a towel or something over the sheets so we don’t soil them?”

That was a new one. You had never had sex on your period before but then again… there was nothing to be worried about, no? You were not in pain and technically, you couldn’t see the blood until he pulled out again to get you both cleaned up, right? Besides, Loki was a skilled sorcerer. He could make that blood vanish from your sight as soon as you were done with your fun.

“Tell me, my love… would you like it sweet and slow or rough and hard?” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. Fuck, when he talked to you like that…

“Be gentle with me today,” you responded quietly, playing along.

“Hmm… with pleasure, pet.” He pushed you back on the bed, spreading your legs so he could move between them. He was quick to get rid of your green dress and your underwear, lifting your naked behind to stuff the towel you had been using earlier underneath it.

You had to admit, the thought of him seeing any blood down there did make you feel a little self-conscious. It was so easy for a woman to not feel clean during that time of the month. Loki, however, paid little attention to whatever state he found you in.

There was greed sparkling in his blue eyes when he licked his lips, his expression darkening. He hovered above you like a predator about to devour its prey, demanding a passionate kiss and as your tongues fought a battle neither of you was willing to lose, Loki got his own clothes out of the way.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt his bare skin against yours, his muscles dancing as he moved even closer, releasing your lips to let you catch your breath. His mouth was all over your neck by the time you felt his hardening member pressing against your entrance. You were unsure whether you were wet from his kinky promises already or because of your menstruation but you didn’t want to think about it.

You wrapped your arms around him when he slowly guided himself inside you, claiming you inch by inch until he was deeply sheathed inside of you. His quiet grunts sent lightning bolts of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you stealing your breath away every single time.

Loki’s gaze was so incredibly loving and affectionate that you feared you would melt on the bed. Taking his time, he retreated and then plunged himself back inside of you, falling into a steady rhythm. He fucked you passionately but gently, as you had asked, all the while his hands went on a quest to explore your revealed skin, fondling your breasts, stroking your cheek, or merely holding hands with you.

Loki knew your body better than you did by now. He knew exactly what turned you on, how to get you there fast. Soon, his fingers were playing with your clit relentlessly, his slow and passionate thrusts never ceasing.

You whimpered, hovering on that cloud of pleasure shortly before the fall.

“Come for me, pet…” You heard Loki whisper against your lips, luring you closer to the edge. Moaning his name when you came, you pulsed around his length, pleasure coursing through you and filling every single one of your cells. And just like that, your remaining discomfort from your period was all but forgotten for the moment.

Loki leaned his forehead against yours, giving you enough time to ride out your orgasm before he continued stroking, hungry for his own release now. You urged him on by digging your nails into his back, planting kisses on his bare shoulders.

Eventually, Loki came with an animalistic growl, his blue eyes closed and his thin lips parted. You could feel him spilling his seed inside of you, coating your walls. Once he had stilled and collapsed on top of you, you sighed, hugging him like a teddy bear.

You could feel him soften inside of you, yet when he attempted to move to take his weight off of you, you held him even tighter.

“No… stay,” you murmured, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Are you feeling better now, my love?”

You nodded weakly. “Much better. I love you, Loki.”

Your name rolled off his lips like a song. “And I love you.”

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I’d appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki smut #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson fluff #loki odinson smut #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #loki show #loki show imagine #loki series #loki series imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

between unsteady fingers and stuttering heart

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 959 | Read on AO3

You are peeling potatoes in the kitchen while Mark runs through plans for the next heist, and you mentally make a note of everything you'll need to pack as he does so.

The date of the job is set for next week and in all honesty, was a rather abrupt decision, but sometimes you just have to take the windows of opportunity when they arise. Money has been tight as of late; this is essentially your equivalent of a quick cash-grab.

This particular heist required minimal planning and effort, but the location is some ways away, so the pair of you would be staying somewhere to lay low overnight once you get away with the goods, before making your way back home the following day.

‘— so we'll have a couple possible exits to work with, but we should be able to make a clean getaway no problem.’

‘That's good.’

‘Oh, and I managed to book a room for the night but since the whole thing was kind of last minute, they were pretty limited on what they could offer us, especially with our current budget. Bed's pretty big though. We can share.’

Your eyes widen at that, mind briefly unfocused just long enough for the blade to slip too far.

‘Ah–! Shit—’

Mark's head shoots up at your pained exclaim, rushing to the counter where you are standing as soon as he catches a glimpse of the blood trailing down your hand.

‘Oh shit, how'd you manage that?’ he asks, voice littered with concern.

He grabs and hands you some tissues to soak up the blood, and you cradle them around the cut on your thumb.

Moving to the sink, you run it under the water.

‘It's not too deep but the bleeding isn't stopping…’ you say, turning off the tap.

‘You're gonna need to wait a couple minutes for it to clot. Here, let me see.’

He holds out his hand and you instinctively give him your injured one to inspect the damage. It's minimal, really. More of an inconvenience than anything.

Mark hums with a concerned frown. ‘Better take care of it.’

He reaches out to flip open the door to one of the kitchen cabinets, rifling through various shelves.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking for the first-aid, duh.’

‘Mark. I don't need first aid, it's not a big deal.’

‘At least put a Band-Aid on it.’

You sigh. ‘Fine.’

He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a plaster and once again holds out a hand expectantly.

‘I can do it myself,’ you say blankly.

‘Well clearly not,’ he retorts. ‘You can't even handle a knife without hurting yourself right now, apparently.’

‘Oh, please, I was just… distracted.’

‘Oh yeah? What was so distracting?’

You sigh in frustration, not having a response (or at least no truth you care to give) and give him your hand defeatedly.

He guides you to sit down opposite him, resting your arm on the table, and you keep your hand steady as he wipes the surface of the cut.

‘You're being extra.’

‘I'm being safe, do you want it to get infected?’

It stings a little, making you wince slightly, and he mutters a small ‘sorry’.

You can't help but take note of how gentle and calm he is as he handles you. Mindful and delicate. Your eyes drift from your connected hands up to his concentrated gaze, where they stay for a moment, watching the slow movement of his dark eyes.

You know for sure he would try to play down his own, actually serious injuries; it's happened before — and in the midst of your worry you didn't hesitate to give him a mouthful for his recklessness.

This is such a simple task in comparison, and yet the care with which he patches up the small, insignificant cut makes your stomach flip.

He finishes wrapping the plaster around your thumb, smoothing down the end.

‘All done! That wasn't so hard, was it?’

You mumble your thanks, looking down at your hand still in his.

‘Y'know, for someone so good with knots, grappling guns and all that jazz, it amazes me how clumsy you can be sometimes.’

‘...I told you, I just wasn't paying attention for a second,’ you say with a huff.

‘Mhm. You can't even use my distractingly handsome face as an excuse, you were facing the other way!’

You roll your eyes indignantly and he chuckles, tracing the smallest circle into your palm.

With a small quirk of a smile, he suddenly brings your hand up in front of him so his lips just barely brush your thumb over the plaster.

‘Need me to kiss it better?’ he teases, gaze flicking upwards to meet your own.

Your breath catches. There are a solid few seconds of you staring: eyes, lips, hands, before you quickly pull your hand away to your chest, flustered.

‘I– I'm good,’ you utter, vision averted to anywhere other than his smirking face.

‘Alright then. Do you need me to take over, or…?’ he asks, gesturing to the half-peeled potato on the counter.

‘Oh! Thanks, but I've got it now, don't worry,’ you reassure, with a small, appreciative pat on his arm as you get up to make your way over to the counter.

Your skin still tingles ever so slightly with the warmth from his palms. You spare a moment to wonder whether he realises the effect he has on you, before quickly shaking those thoughts from your head.

Mark goes back to his plans, marking out paths and points on his diagram and listing off escape routes, when it occurs to you what had sidetracked your attention in the first place.

Oh no.

It is going to be a long couple of days.

#tenth heist duo fic woohoo #heist mark and y/n domestic fluff my beloved #cw blood mention #cw minor injury #amee writes #partners in crime #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #mark iplier #heist mark #heist!mark #heist!mark x reader #heist mark x reader #x reader #markiplier egos #markiplier cu

[netherworldpost]

Would you ever make the "I have a lot of feelings about this book" card design into a sticker label? I'd love to buy a pack to put on my favorite books before I lend them out. Also, not me shopping in your store before I actually receive my first order ... BUT I LOVE YOUR STUFF!

Hey there! Firstly, thank you!

I'm extremely pleased and humbled by your enjoyment. I'm also a bit "hm hm! hm!!" because we are barely starting out along a very long plan to make wonder and create dazzle.

Book stickers get tricky. It has to be extremely clearly worded in teh description "this sticker is unlikely to come off and will likely cause damage if you remove it" and other such things.

So saying, there is a future phase of... stuff... (everything from stickers similar to what you mentioned to registry stuff to stories and rambles) called "Eldritch Librarian" that I've been tinkering with for some 7 or 8 years at least.

It started slowly with Evil Supply Co. but the company was so scattered that the notes just kinda went everywhere and I couldn't focus. Part of --

The Shift I Ought to Cleverly Name and Likely Won't Because It Amuses Me To Call It Something Different Every Time

-- has been to resolve that lack of focus.

With book modifications, things get inherently personal, very quickly (hence the looping this project with Eldritch Librarian). Some books are to gift, some are to lend, both need to be addressed in modification.

The Short Answer: Yes, on an unknown schedule, and part of a larger system.

As to your order!

Again I say thank you!

It's ready.

It's either in the mail or will be in the mail tomorrow (Monday, April 22).

If you haven't gotten an email tracking yet, that will come on Monday morning sometime, depending on where your order sat in the queue.

I was tinkering with the shipping system last night.

Tracking info generates immediately when your label is produced, as your order is packed, but prior to said tinkering, it would only email Day Of Going Out the Door.

Now it emails within a few minutes of the label being generated.

The advantage to this being those of us whom Are Frequently Awake in the Middle of the Night staring at the walls and wondering "hm has that shipped yet" and rather than waiting on servers to click over to what is deemed (for whatever reason) as The Time to Send, it just sends immediately.

I will also say thank you one last time.

When I say "I was overwhelmed with the initial response" I mean it both emotionally (most positive possible connotation) and physically (most positive possible connotation).

I'll always ship what is currently considered slow -- always a small pile of days, the target is 2 - 5 days, with an upper limit of 8 or 9 days.

The window being "do we have your particular item in stock, right now, or will it be added to the next production run."

I could (and have) ramble about it for many (many) hours, but the short answer comes down to:

We produce in very small batches (high inventory can increase profit but compromises ability to experiment)

In off-peak hours (this allows us to slash production cost, enabling us to sell cards very inexpensively)

Using non-billionaire-owned suppliers as often as possible, respecting their production lines and timeframes etc. This is not a rebuff or commentary of anyone's business practices. It is simply part of my "We are a tiny business, we should support small businesses when buying boxes, etc." sensibility.

We hit what I figured we'd sell in our first six months within about six days.

The good thing about logistics, though, is there are industries (purposefully plural) around every single problem that exists. And just raw practice. There was a point where I figured out how to fold boxes a certain way that cut the time to fold in half.

Okay this was a lot :)

So: Yes. But not very soon. Part of something bigger. And THANK YOU!

[toodrasticallydumb]

Oh c’mon you knew I had to.

My version of the Barbie mugshot with stricklake because I just COULD NOT get it out of my head:

This is specifically from my Trollhunter!Strickler au solely because of the white streak in Barbara’s hair lol and now that I’ve drawn it I am oh so tempted to have it be an actual scene that happens somewhere along the story…

Little snippet of the would-be scene (it's so long it got away from me, I'm sorry):

*the two are rummaging around in a very much broken into museum to find what may or not be a message from Nomura*

Barbara: Walt...?

Walter: Hm? Yes, love?

Barbara: What's that outside?

Walter, pausing for a second to listen: Oh. That would be the em...the police, my dear.

Barbara: Oh, okay, okay, excuse me, the WHAT.

Walter: ...Em. That is, I- um I suggest you hide the skathe-hrün somewhere, lest the authorities care to investigate further into what exactly it is when they take it from your person.

Barbara: So we're not even avoiding this? You know, getting arrested by the police?

Walter: Mmmm, no, unfortunately. I don't want you using the skathe-hrün (or more specifically its magic) anymore than absolutely necessary for today. You've expended yourself enough as it is.

Barbara: And getting arrested for breaking and entering is not an 'absolute necessity'???

Walter: Not particularly, it would only be a considered a second-degree burglary since it is a museum and not a residential, habitated building; which that sub-type of burglary is a 'wobbler' charge in the state of California, which equates—if it is persecuted as a misdemanor rather than a felony—to merely (at most) a year in county jail—

Barbara: A year?!

Walter: —and 1,000 dollar fine if, that is, we are found guilty by being proven to have harbored the intent to steal something, of which we did not and do not have evident by the fact neither of us pocess any given tools to break or take any item from its case. I assume this is the first time you have been accused of any given crime aside from speeding or any other driving-related violation? Without evidence of a previous criminal record we should be lined up quite well to be merely fined or, if NotEnrique can manage it (if I can bear to call upon endless embarassment and taunting), nothing at all but a slap on the wrist though I doubt we could not accomplish that on our own given our positions in the community as school teacher and doctor respectively.

Barbara: You have wings, Walt.

Walter: And mothman escaping a building with a strangely human-shaped figure in its arms is not at all a cause for alarm to the police who will no doubt be keeping close watch of all exits and entrances which would also draw unneeded attention before we can reach the proper cover of the clouds.

Barbara: *face-palms* Getting arrested. How wonderful. 'Oh, just breaking and entering, officer, not much.'

Walter: It is hardly as terrible as it sounds, really. We can omit the 'breaking' portion since we snuck in through the window without running into any trouble that would damage it. Frankly, we could go the route of claiming guilty to the crime of trespassing according to the Penal Code 602 (California's trespassing law) being that we entered the exhibit past museum hours. On top of which it is far more accurate to what we're doing in actuality, not proper burglary since we have established neither of us had the intent to run off with anything that was not ours. Doing so we would also fare far better than with a so-called 'breaking and entering' offense (such a named law does not actually exist in California, only burglary and trespassing separately but I will clasify it as the burglary law for sake of consistency) in which we would be recieving just a simple fine rather than possible felony charges that could come with a second-degree burglary we may have committed.

Barbara: Not really helping here, Walt.

Walter: Right, apologies-

Barbara: Which, of course, getting arrested is an experience you obviously know about.

Walter: The (pun intended) offense aimed against me is dully noted. However, my dear, the fact I know how the intricacies of the specific laws of California operate does not entail I have been arrested prior to this. That would be Nomura who holds the experience in that particular department.

*pause*

Barbara: Walt. Don't you dare. You stop it right there. Unless you want--

Walt: The police department. Heh. *guilty snort*

Barbara: *sends him the disappointed death glare*

Police: *break through the door* Hands up! On the ground, now!

Walter: *laying down* I hardly find my pun to have been that egregious.

Barbara, already on the floor: Really, Walt? Good puns involve good TIMING too.

Police: Dispatch, we have the two culprits in question now in our custody. *taking a pair of cuffs out* You're coming with us. You have the right to remain silent.

Walter, being actively handcuffed: Well, I suppose then, now would be the less than appropriate time to say this museum has gained quite the em...standing in the Lake family...?

Barbara, being stood up with her arms behind her back: Officers, I have no idea who this man is.

Walter: I never once said I intended to make good puns.

I made this entirely too long but once it started I couldn't really find myself stopping. Whoops. Hope you enjoyed chaotic Walt not caring about being arrested because jail is honestly the least of his problems rn. It would honestly be a break.

#did i dedicate like a half hour to exploring the penalties of California trespassing and burglary laws??? #I did indeed. #this is the curse of being both a writer and artist #the ungodly amount of work that went into this stupid MEME is insane but i am still proud #Jim does NOT let them live this down and Strickler knows this #so he's here for a fun ride if he's going to get made fun of endlessly by both NotEnrique AND Jim #barbara is very much tired of her boyfriend/husband's antics but at this point she accepts it #(NotEnrique somehow gets ALL of their mugshots and one day they wake up to find them all framed and hung on the wall) #Barbara: Jail Walt! JAIL! What kind of example am I setting for Jim here? That he should do as I say not as I do? #Walter *sitting all crisscross applesauce in his cell*: ...Em...Perhaps that the apple truly does not fall far from the tree...? #*Walter was then demoted to the couch for the next week* #Walter: He should be proud to say he's his mother's son! #did I do this instead of editing for this week's fic update? #oops. #toa trollhunters #walter strickler #toa strickler #toa barbara #barbara lake #trollhunters strickler #art #strickler #my art #doodle #stricklake #fan fic writing #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #barbie mugshot redraw #barbie mugshot meme

[lengthofropes]

You know what I experienced this morning? 

My first very close air strike. 

4 russian missiles hit Kyiv today, and it was in my neighborhood. I returned to Kyiv few weeks ago, and I usually take the “two walls rule” (you know what this is, right?) and sit in my corridor during the air strike alerts. It’s kinda exhausting to run to the bomb-shelter every time happens, cause russians launch their deathly shit on us usually 2-4 times a day. And besides, idk if the nearest shelter can fit all the people, so I chose to stay in the safest spot of my apartment. Well… just like the most of us, Ukrainians, do for the past 4 months. So today, the alert started at 5:03 am, and I’m usually still awake at this time. But I was so tired, I was lying in my bed, scrolling the feed on my phone. I live on the first floor of the residential building, and there’s a road outside my window. Small, not very popular one, so it’s like up to 10 cars a day max) They make that low roaring sound when they drive by. Around 5:20 I heard a sound like that, but it was… a bit different. It literally took less than a second for the though to appear in my mind “That’s not a car” And then… I don’t even know what then. My second thought was literally “Oh…” and nothing more. And it would’ve take me 2 seconds to grab my cat and run into corridor. But I went absolutely numb. Just... listening to that sound. Then it changed to the noise of hit and explosion. And the rattling of the windows in my apartment. Fuck, they say you should stay away from the windows, but I was so numb, I was so fucking numb… But then I heard that sound AGAIN, and this time I grabbed my cat and run into the corridor. There were four explosions, windows were shaking badly, and my cat was scared as fuck. And between third one and the fourth one hit there was a longer pause, and I came to the window to look at the damage. I even filmed the huge column of smoke. Probably, to remember this day forever. The alert was over at 5:47. I texted back all my friends, who know where I live, that I’m okay. I checked with my friends, who live nearby, too. And then… the usual thing we all do after the hit was confirmed. We wait for the official info to appear, checking the news feed every fucking 10 seconds. We wait, and there's only one thought in our heads: "How many?" Turned out one missile hit the kindergarten yard, leaving the huge hole in the ground and absolutely no windows in the building itself. And there was a hit on the residential building, too. It’s 500m from my house. 7 years old girl got injured, but according to the latest news, she’s alive and she's gonna be alright. Her father covered her with his body to protect. He died. That’s it, that’s the story of my morning. And I… fuck, I could tell you so much more. I could tell you, how those were the scariest 30 minutes of my life. I could tell you, how awful the air smelled for an hour. How it was filled with sirens of the ambulances and the rescue service. How I wished it was me, rather than that little girl. And how I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry her father died. God I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry it happened today. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so fucking tired, so fucking angry that this violence is happening all over Ukraine, for days… for weeks… for four fucking months, Jesus fucking Christ… MONTHS! I wish I could tell you how I appreciate, how it warms my heart when you write me messages, adding “I hope you’re staying safe”, and how I am thankful for your care, and simultaneously want to scream back at you that nowhere is safe. Fucking nowhere is safe... I wish I could tell you how I felt, when the alert was on again at 7:21 am, and I fucking fell apart. I went totally hysterical, with laugher and tears... But that’s not the point. The point is NO ONE. EVER. in their lives should experience that. The point is russia keep committing war crimes, keep killing innocent people, keep stealing, keep destroying. russia is a terrorist state. 

And everyone should finally acknowledge that.

#standwithukraine #russia is a terrorist state #russiaisaterroriststate #fuck putin #and ALL the (over) 80% of russians who support him #anz speaks #tw war

[kaiwewi]

Sharing is Caring #2

[Masterlist: Sharing is Caring] [Part 1]

Synopsis: a few days after the last incident, Hero is missing time again. And someone has left them a message.

Hero was ripped from their slumber by the obnoxious beeping of their smartphone’s alarm clock.

Disoriented, they snatched the phone from the bedside table and fumbled for the mute button.

Why the hell was the alarm going off in the first place? They didn’t have any lectures for another two weeks. No appointments. No reasons whatsoever to cut their resting time short. There was no way they’d set this alarm. The damn thing had to be broken.

A terrible sense of déjà vu settled like something heavy on their chest.

No. No, no, no. Please, not again.

They squinted at the screen: 8 am. Tuesday, January 17th.

Fuck.

Another three days lost. An entire weekend plus Monday, gone.

They couldn’t breathe. They scrambled out of bed, started pacing, wrenched open the window. It didn’t help. Nothing would help. The world was spinning, blurring. Faster. Nauseating.

Oh god. What was going on? What was happening to them?

They really had to call someone. They had to make sure—

A soft breeze blew in through the open window and stirred a few stray sheets of paper sitting in the middle of their desk. Hero just so managed to slam their hand down on top of them before the wind could fully lift the sheets off the wooden surface.

The looked down to inspect the writing on the uppermost paper. The words peeking out from between their fingers were written in an elegant yet unfamiliar hand.

It appeared to be a letter. A letter addressed to them.

~~~

Saturday, January 14th

Dear Hero

How very astute of you to finally notice you’re missing time. And it took you only five skipped days to figure it out; I am truly impressed. (Yes, that is sarcasm, in case you cannot tell. Imagine me rolling my eyes. Well, our eyes.)

Said missing time? – Do not fret: I spent it for us. Productively, I might add.

The first time I took possession of this body, I got to spent two quiet days familiarising myself with our physical condition and our immediate environment. (I strongly suggest a change in diet. I suspect we might be lactose-intolerant.)

The second time my consciousness surfaced, I had another three days that I invested primarily into studying you and your life.

In other words: I read your diary. I’m sure you’ll recognise the necessity of such a transgression, given our current circumstances. (Though, I do confess to a certain delight in skimming through the journal, reading about your insignificant worries and secrets. Quite delightful, the idea that the great hero at the core is no higher or lesser a person than the next university student…)

As for your most recent entries… although it might have brought me great satisfaction to further observe your bewilderment over those ‘blackouts’ and ‘memory gaps’, I think it prudent to introduce myself before you ‘freak out’ and get the two of us locked up in a mental institution. (I’d rather we wouldn’t be put into a straitjacket, thank you very much!)

Don’t worry, you are not ‘bonkers’ or ‘totally going nuts’.

I can assure you: I am quite real.

Best regards, Your Brain-Cell-Mate <3

PS: Your penmanship leaves room for improvement.

PPS: I threw out your fast food and went grocery shopping. Once you take over our body again, please do make use of the healthier alternatives I’ve stocked up on.

~~~

Hero read the letter four times in total silence.

Then they went into the kitchen and opened the fridge to assess the damage. – The rest of last week's cake was gone. So were the leftover pizza and the convenience store lasagna. In their place, Hero found a bowl of potato salad, a bunch of carrots, smoked salmon, a glass of pickles, a few smoothies, whole-grain bread, and two packs of feta cheese. Even their favourite yogurt had been replaced with quark.

Well, screw therapists; they should call an exorcist.

They were possessed. By a pretentious health-freak demon.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up in their throat.

This was the worst moment ever to not have chocolate around.

[Part 3]

———

For my other stories, visit my [MASTERLIST] ♥

#snippet #writing snippet #heroes and villains #hero/villain #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #writers #writers on Tumblr #writeblr #body sharing #sharing a body #Sharing is Caring #so look forward to: #hero x villain #villain x hero #enemies to friends

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Hi!! Your writing is so good. If you have the time could you pls continue hold him down?

thank you so much for all of your writing it really keeps me going <3

Have a lovely day!

Hey there. Thanks for the request 🥰

----

Part 1

Hold Him Down, Part 2

“Is this a real Rembrandt?” the villain asked, pausing to admire the painting.

“Good eye,” Ember said, handing him some tea. They switched the lamp on as the last gasps of the sunset outside cast fire along the tall walls of the study.

“Andras hated portraits,” Ivan – the villain – said. “Would always complain about feeling watched.”

It was odd to hear someone refer to the supervillain by their first name.

Languidly, the villain pulled his eyes from the painting, and ambled to the rich leather sofas. “Alright, ask your boring questions.”

Whenever things got bad, really bad, and Ember envisioned this precise moment to comfort themself, it usually came with the mental image of Ivan cuffed to a table under an interrogation light. Instead, they settled on the sofa across the villain.

“What happened to Suspect #42?” they started, referring to the supervillain’s call number.

“Poisoned.” Ivan placed his teacup in its saucer. “The culprit hasn’t been found yet.”

“So he’s dead?”

“Oh lord no.” Ivan grinned. “It’ll take a lot more than that to kill the Eve of Destruction.”

“I’ve always hated the names you villains give yourselves.”

Ivan shrugged. “A little pazazz makes the workday fly.”

Ember leaned back, and assessed their enemy. “What is he planning?”

They expected the villain to refuse to answer, but Ivan didn’t hesitate.

“Other than claiming this city district by district until he can hold the whole area hostage?” He shot a knowing look, as though sharing a joke. “We were going to target the stock exchange building next week, and use that as a foothold to take over Upper Town. After that the plan was to infiltrate Warner’s Street and strengthen our connections with its crime syndicates.”

Ember swallowed. If that plan had succeeded, then the battle’s front lines would have inched eerily close to the heroes’ home base.

“However,” Ivan continued, turning to view the sunset, “I think those plans are out the window now.”

“42’s condition is really that bad?”

Ivan nodded. “And it will only get worse if he doesn’t receive treatment.”

Ember tilted their head. “Is that why you came here? To bargain for medicine?”

“Actually,” Ivan said, flashing a grin. “It's more like jumping ship.”

“What?”

“I’m putting in my application for hero work,” he announced. “I’ve always suspected I’d look good in bright-colored tights.”

“You can’t think you’re going anywhere after this but a jail cell.”

“I think we’d make a good team.” He rose. “In fact, I’ve considered inviting you to my side multiple times.” He came to Ember’s couch, and leaned on the armrest. “Wouldn’t you like to amplify my abilities for once, rather than suppress them?”

Ember eyed the villain – eyed Havoc, named for the mayhem that ensued every time his superpower detonated. Ember, who controlled heat and energy, had always been able to contain and minimize the damage.

But how would it feel to use Ivan’s explosions as a fuel for their own abilities?

“Why are you betraying 42?”

Something sparked in Ivan’s dynamite-black eyes. “I’m a villain, Em. It’s what we do.”

Ember stared at him a moment, and then decided they needed more time to think.

---

Ivan’s sleeping quarters were something halfway between a guest room and a cell. There was a real bed, and modest decorations; but also bars on the window, and a door that only locked from the outside.

Still, it was the nicest place he’d slept in for a long while.

He settled on the mattress, and silently wondered if he’d ever tell Ember that he had been the one to poison the supervillain. 

#villain #hero #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writeblr #writing snippet #snippet #writing #not a promt

[rileyslibrary]

Hello! I Hope your doing well! Im not sure if you celebrate Halloween if not that’s okay^^ but if you do I was wondering if I can request carving pumpkins with ghost? But thinking about it I don’t know how Simon would feel about Halloween and stuff because of his past 🤔

Thank you! Have a nice day/night

Hi anon. 🍫

I want you to imagine our conversation happening on a stormy evening in an abandoned building with high ceilings, tall windows, and furniture draped with white sheets. I brought you here because “I want to show you something.”

I lead the way through the corridors, running my fingers along the walls. You follow behind me, with a flashlight, wondering wtf is going on. As we walk, I turn around to face you, and a bold of lightning illuminates the side of my face as I utter the words “I don’t celebrate Halloween; I am Halloween.”

And then I find the light switch I’ve been searching for all this time and show you the damage this persistent rain has caused to the ceiling.

Anyway. Yes, I’ve been thinking of a “Halloween special”, but not in regard to the festivity. It’s hard to put into words, but I’m looking for something mystery-related rather than Halloween-related. And I don’t want to write it; I want to read it. 😭

So, if you, or anyone else reading this, finds/writes a cod au or a story that matches my description, please let me know. 💕

#the librarian answers

[ariparri]

The Soup Fairy stands on your window sill, hair tousled by a spring storm and drenched in rainwater. She got sidetracked by the weather, but she's here!

•°☆TIS I YOUR FAIRY SOUP MOTHER!☆°•

Your character is considering the person who has harmed them the most in life. Write a line of dialog from your character, describing them.

What do they think of forgiveness? What do they think of reconciliation?

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! 🎉

We'll go with Taira Matsubara, Saian's sister in the Azure Bloom universe.

I went a little overboard with this one but it’s a good way to show how the two will never be sisters anymore ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Warnings: Blood, stabbing, Saian referring to their mother as an incubator

@chrystabelleblaumferge @dollystarz tagging you two because I know you’re both interested in any Azure Bloom content (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Taira finds herself caught in a complex web of emotions as she considers the possibility of reconciling with her older sister, Saian. The wounds of betrayal inflicted by her sister run deep, leaving Taira grappling with conflicting feelings of forgiveness and lingering resentment.

On one hand, Taira yearns for closure and healing in her fractured relationship with Saian. Yet, beneath this desire for reconciliation simmers a potent undercurrent of bitterness. Taira can still vividly recall the pain of the blade piercing through her skin, damage dealt by the one person she trusted most. The memory of Saian's abandonment during her time of need haunts Taira, fueling her resentment and distrust.

"Saian Fujino? Is that the name people call you now?" Taira's voice was sharp with accusation, her eyes fixed on the figure before her—a familiar face, half of it hidden by a mask, now seemed like a cruel distortion of the sister she once knew. Saian shrugged nonchalantly in response. "What's wrong with it? It's certainly better than the name our incubator gave me. My wife, in fact, loves it." A lazy grin appeared on her face as she shot Taira a knowing look.

Taira's jaw clenched at the casual disregard in Saian's tone. The use of the term "incubator" being used rather than referring to their mother struck a nerve deep within her. "You're sick," Taira spat, her voice tinged with disbelief and anger. "Is everything just some sick game to you?!" Saian's grin widened, unbothered by Taira's accusation. "Call it what you will, little sister. Just remember, that woman would have sold you off if you weren’t obedient. And I must say, obedient you are, it’s almost annoying really.”

"Even now you're not taking this seriously!" Taira's words cut through the tension. "I should have known, when you left me behind, when you left me for dead, you never truly cared about me." Her voice cracked with emotion, raw and unfiltered. The words hung in the air, charged with the weight of years of hurt and disappointment. Taira's gaze bore into Saian, searching for any semblance of remorse or recognition. But Saian's expression remained inscrutable, a mask that revealed nothing of the sister Taira once loved.

Taira's eyes flickered with conflicting emotions as she stared at Saian. Seeing the turmoil in her sister's eyes, Saian reached out and offered her hand, a gesture filled with tentative sincerity. Her gaze softened, and a small, apologetic smile appeared on her face. "Hey, alright I’m sorry, okay? I know I'm not the best sister in the world," Saian began, her voice tinged with remorse, "but I promise... I'll do whatever it takes to make things right by you. To have you trust me again, to have you in my life again. Hanamaru told me you have spent years trying to find me. And I’ll be damned if I let you slip through my fingers again."

Taira's defenses wavered as she looked at her sister's outstretched hand and the genuine vulnerability in Saian's gaze. Could she dare to believe in the possibility of reconciliation? Slowly, cautiously, Taira reached out and took Saian's hand, her grip tentative yet filled with unspoken yearning for closure and healing. For a fleeting moment, hope fluttered in her chest, the possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation tantalizingly within reach.

Taira's guard momentarily dropped as she found herself enveloped in her sister's arms. For a fleeting moment, she dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, Saian was truly willing to mend the fractures between them. The embrace felt foreign yet strangely comforting, stirring echoes of a time when their sisterly bond had been unbreakable.

But in the next breath, everything shattered.

Taira's breath caught in her throat as she felt the sharp pain in her side, the cold sharp blade of a knife leaving her gasping for air. Saian's voice, devoid of remorse, delivered the final blow—words laced with disappointment and disdain.

"That's twice you fell for that, Taira," Saian's voice was cold and calculating. "I can't help but be disappointed in you."

The last shards of Taira's shattered hope fell around her as she crumpled to the ground, her trust in her sister obliterated by the cruel reality. Tears mingled with pain as she gazed up at Saian, the sister she once loved now a stranger—a haunting reminder of irreconcilable wounds.

Taira looked up angrily at Saian, clutching her bleeding side. She staggered, struggling to hold herself upright, her glare hard and almost threatening. "I should have known..." Taira's voice was filled with bitter realization, the pain evident in her eyes. "You really are just cruel…” Taira's words echoed in the empty space, a defiant declaration of the shattered bond between them. But Saian had already turned to walk away, leaving behind another painful memory of the past. "No hard feelings though, right sister dearest?" Saian's voice, tinged with mockery, floated back to Taira. "It's nothing personal, really, it's just business."

Taira's heart sank as she watched her sister's retreating figure, “Sister? You may share the same face as her, but you are no sister of mine!” The casual dismissal in Saian's tone cut deeper than any blade, leaving the hope she had dared to cling to lay shattered at her feet, replaced by the harsh reality of her sister’s true nature.

With tears mingling with the blood on her hands, Taira faced the bitter truth—some wounds ran too deep to ever heal, and some betrayals cut too close to ever be forgiven.

“You really are just some monster impersonating her for your own sick game…”

#worldbuilding wednesday #wbw #azure bloom #taira matsubara #saian fujino

[shining-star-system]

The one thing I hate more than anything is when I am constantly asked “when are you going to get a job,” “are you looking for a job,” “how’s the job search coming along,” so on and so forth.

Yes, I would love to be able to get one, but I don’t want to deal with the breakdowns from anxiety or paranoia that I will meet someone that will want to hurt me or that someone is after me. I don’t want to be in an area where I’m working to be harassed by someone, employee or customer. I don’t want to come home crying because I’m so scared that something won’t be done, the cats won’t have food for the day or they’ll run out of water, or that I won’t be able to be here if one of the cats are in danger.

Being in a public area makes us too hyper aware to actually have a good time, letting our guard down is a big mistake. We have be tense and ready, we have to make sure that no one is following us or that if we see something that it isn’t real. We have to mask the constant panic attacks when we don’t have someone we can rely and trust next to us at all costs when we aren’t inside the house.

I would love to work and help with income, but constantly asking when someone has seen my breakdowns and think that those will magically get better, it’s painful and pretty infuriating sometimes. I get it, they might think that now that we’re away from an abusive household, those things will calm down. No. We’ve had so many nights where our partner system has had to comfort us because we thought someone was looking in from the window. What happens if we have an episode and no one is there to help us? What do we do then? Become something for strangers to look at and whisper about because we can’t handle it? That outcome is embarrassing.

We love the idea of being a house spouse as it allows us to be in an environment where we can relax just a little bit better rather than in a public area where anything can happen. You can’t get over anxiety. Breakdowns still happen. Paranoia still stays.

I cannot heal something that is hard for us to understand some days. I am not broken, I am not damaged. I am a product of a broken home that doesn’t need more stress, I need patience and understanding. I’m not excusing our actions of not getting a job, we just can’t without panicking about even remotely applying. If we wouldn’t be so scared, stressed, and anxious… well, we’d have one by now.

#did #system #did system #dissociative identity disorder #did osdd #plurality #vent #vent post #tw vent #tired of being asked to get a job #i’d love to!!! do you think i can with so much going on? #thanks i’ll just tell my anxiety and paranoia to do a little dance on their way out #you can’t magically cure this so stop trying #anxiety mentions #paranoia mentions