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j-ensenackles · 11 months

Text

coming home

pairing: randy orton x fem!reader

summary: after 10 years away from the ring, you return for the first ever women's royal rumble. you begin to doubt yourself, and your husband randy comes to your aid.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, mentions of a back injury, some self-doubt, mentions of pregnancy and kids

a/n: thank you for the request, @thedoveesquire! i've never written for randy before, so i hope i did him justice!

The stadium shook with the roar of the crowd.

You could hear every cheer, every gasp, every burst of applause from your spot backstage.

You bit your fingernails — a nasty habit, as Randy always reminded you — as you watched the women in-ring on the monitor.

Your eyes kept straying to the ticking clock, to the impending number 30. To your return.

It had been 10 years since you’d been in the ring. 10 years since the WWE Universe had seen you. 10 years since a back injury stopped your career in its tracks.

Back then, you were nearing the top of the mountain. You had just gotten married to Randy Orton the year before, and the two of you were making waves — separately and together — on the roster. You were first in line for the first ever Divas Championship, and glory was within your grasp.

It was during that title match with Michelle McCool that you had everything in an instant… and had lost it just as quickly.

Towards the end of the match, Michelle threw you into the steel steps. The sharp edge of the stairs hit you right in the spine and you knew something was wrong. It seemed like your life was flashing before your eyes. A decision was before you: quit now or push through?

You pushed through. Probably a mistake, if the many doctors you had seen over the years were to be listened to, but you pushed through and became the first ever Divas Champion.

And then…

You had to give it up. The next day, you relinquished your title to Michelle. She undeniably deserved it, there was no doubt about that. It was just embarrassing and heartbreaking to give up your title, especially because you had only had it for 24 hours. But you couldn’t fight. You were out of commission.

Reluctantly and with a lot crying on Randy’s shoulder, you retired.

In the interim years, you focused on rehabilitating your back with hopes of a one-day return to the ring.

And then you got pregnant. You were over the moon, and Randy was too. Your son was a complete life changer, a ray of sunshine in your cloudy world.

A few years after, you had your daughter — another bright spot in your life. Beautiful and bubbly (with a definite splash of Randy’s attitude) your daughter just enhanced an already blessed life.

Being a mom took over your life. And with side hustles and helping Randy with his work, you found yourself busy. Content. There was always that faint hope in the back of your mind of being in the ring again, but you were truly happy.

Then you got the call. Honestly, you weren’t even fully listening to the words that were being spoken over the phone, you were so in shock. You only got buzzwords and phrases — “first ever Women’s Royal Rumble,” “history,” “return,” “we need you.”

You said yes without a second thought. It was only after you hung up that the doubts crept in.

Were you too old? Would you be rusty? Would the WWE Universe even care about you anymore? It had been 10 years since you had last wrestled, after all.

Your back was another issue. You had technically been cleared years ago, but you still worried. It only took one wrong move to throw your life off track.

You expressed these fears to Randy, of course, and he smirked, his reply simple —

“You’re the Y/N. You’re gonna kick ass.”

So here you found yourself, about to enter the first ever Women’s Royal Rumble.

“Stop biting your nails,” A voice sounded behind you.

You turned, finding Randy leaning against a post, arms crossed over his chest and signature smirk on his lips.

“Sorry. I’m nervous,” you replied sheepishly.

Randy’s features softened. He pushed off the wall and made his way to you.

“I know, honey,” he smiled softly, “But if anyone can do this, it’s you.”

You matched his smile, “Thank you.”

Randy could see there were still doubts plaguing you. He knew you too well.

He gently cradled your face in his hands, directing you to look at him, “You’re a badass. A badass wife, a badass mother, and a badass wrestler. You’re going to go out there and show the world that you haven’t lost an ounce of your greatness.”

You sighed, “But what if they don’t like me? Worse, what if they don’t remember me?”

You hated the way you sounded so insecure, so defeated.

“Y/N, listen to me. You are a pioneer in this industry. A staple. You made history 10 years ago winning the Divas Championship, and you’ll make history today in the first ever Women’s Royal Rumble. They’ve missed you. They still love you. Trust me, I hear ‘We love Y/N’ chants more than I hear chants for me.”

You chuckled.

“You can do anything you set your mind to. I’ve seen you do it,” Randy continued.

You smiled, tears filling your eyes. You were so grateful Randy could read you so well and was able to calm your unease effortlessly.

“God, you’re such a sap, Randy,” you joked, blinking your tears back in an attempt to keep your makeup intact.

Randy rolled his eyes, “That may be true, but only when it comes to you.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your head.

You glanced at the screen. Number 29 — Bayley — was entering now. You were next. It was now or never. You let out a shaky breath, steeling yourself.

Randy kissed your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Go make some history.”

You smiled, feeling the confidence Randy instilled in you. He was right — you could do anything. Wrestling was one of your great loves (apart from Randy and the kids) and you were going to go out there and show it.

The seconds ticked by and before you knew it, your music hit.

You squeezed Randy’s hand one last time and made your way out.

If you thought the crowd was going crazy before, that was nothing compared to now (“The biggest pop of the night,” Randy would later brag).

The entire arena was on their feet, screaming and shouting their surprise and happiness. Any doubt you had left after Randy’s speech completely evaporated with the (more than) warm welcome from the fans.

You ran down the ramp, fueled by the excitement of the audience. You hopped in the ring, throwing woman after woman over the ropes, barely seeing anything in front of you. Pure adrenaline ran through you.

The crowd was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, but one cheer in particular caught your attention.

“Let’s go mommy! Let’s go mommy!” You turned abruptly, catching the eyes of your son and daughter in the front row, bright smiles on their faces.

Tears threatened to spill yet again. Gratefulness filled your heart. You were here, in your favorite place in the world, doing your favorite thing, surrounded and supported by your favorite people.

You sent your son and daughter a wave, blowing them a kiss.

The crowd’s chants for you were as loud as ever —

“Welcome back! Welcome back!”

You were home.

#randy orton #randy orton x reader #randy orton x fem!reader #randy orton fanfiction #randy orton imagine #randy orton oneshot #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe x fem!reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Apothecary - Chapter Six

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

living in an aftermath, joel tries to hold her together as she falls apart.

warnings | 18+ smut, significant angst, canon-typical violence

wordcount: 4.3K (we were concise this week lol)

a/n | this is a rather insular chapter, and it happens to be one of my favorites so far. feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think <3

p.s. if i had to offer one song for this chapter, it'd be magneto by nick cave and the bad seeds (yes, more nick cave, sue me)

.......................................

“Nothing?” “I don’t think she even touched the plate, old man.” Ellie huffs, setting the plate of what had been dinner down on the kitchen counter, the plate that Joel had placed in front of the closed guestroom door last night with a quiet plea for her to eat something. But judging by the untouched look of the food, his plea went unanswered.

“Alright, kid, I’ll check on her. You better get to school.” Ellie nods, though she makes no move to leave, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at him.

“Do you think she’s gonna, like, be ok?” Joel has to clear his throat before answering her, trying to make his voice sound as certain as he can.

“She’ll be ok, kid. It’s just a– a hard thing– what happened. But she’ll be ok, I’m gonna make sure of it.” Ellie offers him a faint smile, her brow still scrunched up in worry.

“We’ll make sure of it, right? I can help too, y’know.” He has to smile at that, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze as he nods.

“I know, kid. You’re right, we’ll make sure she’s ok. Now you better get to class before you’re late– again.” It’s just enough levity for her smile to broaden, her eyes to roll with a huff, and then Ellie’s out the door, and Joel’s shoulders slump immediately.

When he goes upstairs, Stevie is laying in front of the guestroom, swiping her paw under the closed door in what could only be frustration. She and Stevie have been staying with them for a little over two weeks now. It hadn’t been soon after that day he found her in her shop that she showed up in the middle of the night at his front door, wide-eyed and disheveled. She hadn’t known where else to go after someone had thrown a rock into one of the windows of her house. And then, when he had walked her to her shop the next morning, he had been stunned speechless at the words smeared over the door in thick, black paint.

Witch

Slut

Baby killer

She hasn’t left his house since, and she’s barely left the guestroom he set her up in either.

“Darlin? I’m coming in, alright?” He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing now from prior experience that he’d just be waiting forever. Stevie darts in the second he cracks open the door, making a beeline for the bed where her mom is curled up under a swath of blankets, even though it’s the beginning of September and still plenty warm out.

He kneels down alongside the bed, right next to where her face is half smushed into her pillow, her eyes cracking open to peer at him. Faded dark circles face him, and his heart catches at the sight.

“Hey, darlin. Think we oughta get some food in you, huh?” She lets out a long sigh, blinking hard a few times.

“Not right now, Joel. I’m just– really tired.” That’s become her new favorite phrase, and it scares him more than when she had been endlessly crying. It’s always said on a breathy exhale, like she’s trying to be casual about the fact that she’s been in bed for days, and seems to have no plans of getting out anytime soon. Any emotion is masked behind her flat voice and vacant eyes, and he’d give just about anything for a glimmer of something. Anger, sadness, he’d even take fear right now, just any proof that she’s still there. But there’s nothing, just her owlish stare, and Stevie nuzzling up against the blankets.

“Alright, not right now. Will you drink some water, at least? For me, please?” You’d think that he just asked her to run a marathon with the exhausted huff she lets out, shifting slowly to sit up with her back against the headboard, her head lolling onto her shoulder to look at him. It’s such a far cry from the woman he’s gotten used to, all slow movements and barely-there words as he offers her the glass of water he brought up for her. She takes two little sips then slumps down, handing him back the glass and scrunching her eyes shut.

“Baby, I-I’m really tired– I just need to lay down for a while.” He can feel his frustration rising, but he swallows it down, taking her hand in his and squeezing lightly. She doesn’t squeeze back.

“Ok, darlin, I know you are. Gotta get to work, but you know where I’ll be, right?” All he gets from her is a nod as she lays back down, curling in on her side.

“Think you might get cleaned up today? Bet a shower would feel good.” Another long sigh.

“I just got a shower yesterday.”

“That– that was Monday, darlin, remember? It’s Friday now.” That’s new, and it makes fear kick up in his chest, cold and frantic. She, however, isn’t phased by it, simply shrugging her shoulders beneath the blankets. Stevie stumbles over the blankets up towards her head, nuzzling up against the back of her neck. It’s a small comfort to him, knowing that she isn’t completely alone during the day, just enough reassurance for him to murmur a soft “I’ll be back soon, honey” and get up with a sigh. He takes one more look at her before closing the door behind him, no acknowledgement from her save for another deep sigh.

Things around town have gotten tense, to say the least. Word spread fast about what happened to Maura’s baby, and while it was clear that no one was to blame, just a horrible stroke of luck, it was a whole lot easier to blame the witch for what happened. Now, as Joel walks to the stables everyday, people openly stare at him, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear about how he’s “harboring the murderer.” The only thing that keeps him from knocking their lights out is knowing that it’d only make things worse for her.

People are being particularly vocal this morning, but he gets no relief when he gets to the stables either, seeing Mason and Matthew, Maura’s husband, are getting ready to saddle up for patrol.

“Don’t know why Maria’s letting her walk around free. Oughta be a trial for what she did.” Mason scoffs at Matthew’s words.

“You know why, that’s practically her sister-in-law, that’s why.” Mason’s eyes narrow into slits as Joel approaches them, Matthew’s face reflecting a similar sneer.

“You boys better watch what you say. Especially when it ain’t based in any reality.”

“What do you know about reality, Miller? She’s got you so turned around I bet you believe just about anything she tells you.” Joel can feel anger rising like bile in his throat as he looks at the men, and he keeps his hands on his hips to stop himself from doing something he’ll regret.

“You saying you two are talking about reality? Some fucking story about her, what? Hexing a baby?” He focuses his attention on Matthew before continuing.

“Son, I’m sorry for your loss. I really am. But trying to blame someone for this– this horrible misfortune– it ain’t gonna make that pain go away.” Matthew lets out a bitter laugh at Joel’s words, his eyes flashing wild as he takes a few halting steps toward him.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Miller. I know she did it.” Joel would like to punch him in the teeth, but instead he scoffs at the man, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s just say for a minute that I’m living in the same delusional world that you are. How are you so sure that she did it, huh?” Matthew’s face stretches into a grin that doesn’t meet his bloodshot eyes at that.

“I know she did it– she did it to get back at me.” That makes Joel pause, and Matthew catches it, his grin splitting wider.

“She was jealous, you see. When I wouldn’t leave Maura for her, she got real upset. I guess she’s used to getting what she wants, but I’m a faithful man, and I wouldn’t look twice at that slu–” Joel doesn’t let him finish that sentence, grabbing him by his shoulders and driving him backward until his back slams against the wall of the stables.

“See, now I know you’re full of shit because she’s with me. She’s been with me all fucking summer, so I find your little story pretty hard to believe.”

“Not all the time.” Joel squints at him, keeping him pinned against the wall.

“Come again?”

“She wasn’t with you all the time, not during all her little house visits. Lemme tell you, Maura wasn’t the only one she was checking on.” He does it before he can think, his fist making contact squarely with Matthew’s jaw, the man groaning and doubling over, though Joel is quick to haul him up by his shirt collar.

“Listen to me, you keep my woman’s name out of your mouth. Do you understand me?” Matthew gives him no answer, his eyes squinting slits as Joel shoves him back against the wall. As he turns to leave, his eyes catch Mason’s, the man grinning as he watches the whole thing. The look makes Joel’s stomach twist, and it’s all he can do to walk away from the pair.

He doesn’t care that he’ll miss his shift. He needs to talk to her. Now.

Any patience, any gentleness, any carefulness has dissolved in his need to speak to her, and it clearly catches her by surprise when he comes barreling into her room, giving her shoulder a brusque squeeze that has her wide eyes looking up at him.

“Wha– I thought you were going to work.”

“We need to talk.”

“Joel, I’m really–”

“Tired. I know, but you can’t– I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I know that you’re hurting, but I need you here with me, or else I can’t, I can’t do anything to help.” She sits up at that, brow furrowed.

“What’re you talking about?” He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, glancing at Stevie who has curled up on the pillow next to her.

“There’s– talk, around town.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m aware.”

“That isn’t what I meant– I mean– Matthew, Maura’s husband– he’s saying that you–” She cuts him off with a bitter laugh. “No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“It’s always the same– they’re always the same– he’s telling people I tried to fuck him, isn’t he?” The blunt crassness of her words coupled with her still blank eyes is unnerving to him. Even now, her voice is flat, no emotion to be found in her cool assessment of him.

“Not in so many words. He said that you had reason to want to– get back at him.”

“And you believe him? You believe that I’d be capable of something like that?”

“I don’t, and I’ll fight this, whatever this is. But I need you here fighting with me. I can’t do this without you– and I can’t keep watching you– disappear right in front of me.” Silence, a heavy pall of it falls between them as she continues to stare at him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Maybe they’re right.” It comes out so hoarse, he almost thinks he didn’t hear her right.

“What?”

“Maybe it is my fault, somehow. Maybe I-I– somehow– I– it’s my fault, my fault, all my fault–” Before she can dissolve any further, he takes her face in his hands, holding her steady.

“Don’t go there, darlin. I know you don’t really believe that. Remember what you told me? About when you held her?” Her eyes widen at that, and he feels something like hope lift off in his chest when she nods.

“She was– she was so small, Joel. And it wasn’t right, it was too early– and I knew it.” “And you did everything you could, right?” Another nod, her eyes narrowing into something like focus.

“I-I did. I did. But, it just happened. It was too early, and– and I don’t think anyone could’ve done anything to change it.”

“That’s right. It just happened. Ain’t anyone’s fault. Don’t let them get into your head, darlin. You and I know the truth, and Ellie, and Tommy, and Maria, and– Stevie.” The cat, who had been dozing on her pillow, lifts her head at that, letting out a questioning mrrp. It isn’t much, but her lips twitch into what could become a smile, eventually. He’ll take it.

“I think I’d like to get a shower now.”

…

He could shout from the palpable relief he feels seeing her at the kitchen table, hair still damp from her shower, eating a plate of leftovers. It’s clear to him that she’s still not all there, still quiet, eyes endlessly downturned, movements slow and small. But she’s clean, she’s eating, and she’s even talking a little, and whatever has changed, Joel’s just glad that it did. He sits in the chair next to her, resisting the urge to stay as close to her as he can, afraid that she might float away if he doesn’t, but worried she’ll shut back down if he does. She sets her fork down and sits back in her chair, tilting her head to look at him, worry a perpetual crease between her brows.

“Could you come with me to the shop? I’d like to get a few of my things.” He nods, trying to keep his voice even when he responds, though inside he feels nothing but elation at her question.

“Of course, darlin. You just tell me when, and we’ll go.”

“Could we– could we go now?”

Though it caught him off guard, he scrambled to get them out the door before she changed her mind. He reckons it’s more for him than it is for her, the tight hold he keeps on her hand as they walk through town. For her part, she keeps her chin tilted down, eyes on each of her steps as they pass through the stream of stares and whispers. But she comes to a stuttering stop in front of the apothecary door, and Joel can’t help but smile.

“Dina and Ellie– they cleaned up the– mess. But it wouldn’t come all the way off, so they gave it a new coat of paint.” What once had been a plain white door is now painted a deep green, though it’s beyond Joel how Ellie managed to find that color. For a moment, she’s completely still, considering the door before her. And then, she squeezes his hand, and he knows that these tears of hers are different, no despair to be found.

“I’ll have to thank them for this.”

Ellie has also been going to the shop in the afternoons everyday, taking care of the plants in her absence, another thing that seems to surprise her when she enters the shop, what could be a smile threatening a quiver in her lips. But he swears that the green goes a bit greener, leaves stretching out and lifting as she walks amongst them, reverential fingers checking here and there. She collects a few bottles and tins, a few books, tucking them into her bag, before checking what she explains with a quiet murmur is soap, curing on the counter of the back room. There’s no ease about this for her, he can tell in her skittish movements, her eyes glancing around like she’s waiting for something to happen, and she’s ready to leave in a flash. He hates it, that the space in which he had first met her, the space in which she had always been so at peace, now conjures this kind of fear in her.

They return home as quick as they left, and he can see just how much it took out of her, the heavy slump to her shoulders, the unfocused haze falling back over her eyes as she sits down on the couch in the living room, her bag still slung over one shoulder. She lets him take the bag from her, setting it down on the floor. He moves tentatively, letting out a quiet sigh when she lets him pull her into his side on the couch, his arm wrapping around her tight.

Wordlessly, she leans back in his hold, and he’s stunned into stillness when she tilts her chin up and brushes her lips against his.

“Thank you, Joel. For everything, for dealing with me through all this.”

“I’m not dealing with you. I’m taking care of you, you don’t have to thank me for that.” She presses another kiss to his lips, though he stops her when she tries to deepen it, holding her by her shoulders.

“I don’t– don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Please, Joel– I just wanna feel something else for a little while. Just wanna feel you.” She presses a smattering of kisses to what skin she can get to beneath the collar of his shirt, and he sighs, already feeling himself dissolving under her touch. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, that whatever is going on in her head can’t possibly be good, but he also knows that whatever peace he can give her, he will in a heartbeat.

“Hey, hey, easy, darlin. Let’s go upstairs, alright? Lemme take care of you properly.” She lets him lead her upstairs, into his bedroom. She lets him lay her back on his bed, gentle and sweet as he undresses her. And she lets him take over when her trembling fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can to keep contact with her.

There are no words for this, the way their hands move over each other’s bodies, getting reacquainted with bare skin they had each mapped so well. He settles between the plush of her thighs, pressing a kiss into the soft skin before finally tasting her. She’s an endless tide of sighs, writhing above him as he works her over with his tongue. Her pleasure is his privilege, and he collects every whimper, every scrunch of her brow, every tensed muscle, tokens of what he can do for his woman. He can’t help the way his hips rut into the mattress beneath him, chasing whatever sensation he can find as he takes in the sight of her, the feel of her beneath his mouth. When she comes, it’s an unraveling, a slow tumble that he holds her steady through, his arms wrapped around her hips to hold her up to his mouth as he coaxes her through her pleasure. The first word to leave her lips as she comes down is his name, a breathless plea to come closer that he answers in kind, crawling up the bed to hover over her, their lips catching in a desperate tangle.

Broken groans resound from both of them when he presses his hips forward, a dizzy prickle skittering up his spine as he settles into the heat of her. He lets his lips drag wherever he can, over her collarbone, the arc of her neck, her jaw, giving her a moment, waiting for her word.

“I’m not going to break, Joel.” The tone of her voice, certain and steeled, makes him lean back to catch her gaze.

“I know that, darlin. I know you aren’t.”

“Then don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I want you to fuck me.” Truthfully, he has been treating her as if at any moment she could shatter. But the way that she’s looking at him, the steady heat of her gaze, the tick of her jaw, the way her nails are grazing up and down his back makes him feel like she’s coming back to him, and something inside him snaps at the thought.

He gives her what she wants, a push and pull that has them both sighing with each press of his hips into hers. He wants to leave marks, to stamp something permanent of him into her, and with the harsh grind of his hips, the desperate graze of his teeth along her chest, he thinks he’ll be successful in his desires, drawing whimpers out of her with the force he fucks her with.

Neither of them are making much sense, words slurred into skin, frantic coaxing to see each over the edge.

That’s it, darlin.

S’good, huh?

It’s all yours, honey. Go on, take it.

When she comes again, it’s with a shattered yelp of his name, her fingers pressing little moons into his shoulder blades as she crashes around him. She’s a fucking vision beneath him, tears streaking silver down her cheeks, her face a twist of pleasure, sobs that sing sweet for a change, and it’s enough to send him spiraling after her. He only realizes he’s crying when he sees his own tears smudged against her sternum, his forehead pressed against her collarbone as he catches his breath.

He goes to get up and grab something to clean her up with, but she doesn’t let him get far, pulling him back down by his shoulders and holding him against her.

“Can we just stay like this for a little while, please?” The sigh he lets out at her question melts him even further into her, his arms wrapping her up and pulling her into a closer tangle. They’re a mess, sweat-damp skin sticking slick and his spend dripping onto the sheets beneath them, but he reckons he needs this as much as she does, burying his face in the junction of her neck and inhaling her deeply.

She relaxes in his arms, muscles going slack against his, her fingers trailing shapes across his shoulder blades. He feels like for the first time in ages, he’s got her, he’s really got her.

…

Ellie won’t stop staring at her. The kid had stopped dead in her tracks when she got home and saw her and Joel in the kitchen, quietly fixing dinner. Joel had quickly shook his head at her, a silent plea to not make a big deal out of it. But if there’s one thing Ellie is not, it’s subtle, and she’s been staring at her for most of the meal like she might disappear if she takes her eyes away from her. If it’s bothering her, however, she doesn’t show it, still a bit hazy around the edges as they eat, leaving Joel to muster up whatever conversation he can, which is to say that most of the meal is spent in slightly tense silence while Ellie continues to stare at her, much to his chagrin.

“I want to thank you, Ellie. I got to see today how you’ve been taking care of the shop. I really appreciate it and– just, thank you, kid.” Ellie’s eyes widen at her words, before softening with an emphatic nod.

“Yeah– I mean, of course. You, like, taught me well, and stuff. And I want you to know, if anyone else tries to mess with you, I will personally fuck them up–”

“Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying, geez.” Ellie lets out a huff at Joel, while he’s about ready to give her another lecture about her language, though his annoyance dissolves when his woman lets out a light laugh at the girl’s exclamation.

“Thanks, kid, but I don’t want you fucking anyone up for me. That’s not gonna be necessary, alright?” Ellie gives her a sheepish smile at that, a light moment that relieves whatever tightness had been in the air. But just as soon as they all seem to slump back into ease, the sound of someone knocking on the front door echoes through the house.

Joel excuses himself, a wordless plea for her and Ellie to stay put. He’s admittedly surprised to see that it’s Maria standing on his porch, a steely look on her face and her hands on her hips.

“We have a problem.”

“That son of a bitch started it.”

“I don’t care who started it, Joel. I’m gonna finish it, all of it. I’ve called a town meeting for tomorrow night. This can’t keep going on. It’s— people are asking me questions that I can’t answer. And I know Mason is getting people more worked up the longer this goes on.”

“Maria, she’s— she’s not ready for this.”

“She’s gonna have to be. I’m worried, Joel. The longer we let people talk, the more out of hand this’ll get and— I wouldn’t put it past some of those men to—try something.” He feels a cool prickle shoot up the back of his neck at Maria’s words, his mind going back to the night of the dance, the way Mason had grabbed her, and he knows that Maria is right, that something needs to be done now before it escalates.

“There are people on her side too, Joel. It’s just– there’s so much talk going around that everyone’s too afraid to say anything otherwise. If we can hear her side, I know people will come forward. But if she stays holed up like this, people are just gonna keep talking.”

“You’re right, Maria.” He hadn’t been expecting it, the sound of her voice startling him as he turns to look at her padding up behind him. She places a firm palm between his shoulder blades, a presence, a confirmation.

“Just tell me what time tomorrow, and I’ll be there.”

...........................

taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller au #apothecary

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skyloftian-nutcase · 4 months

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Febuwhump Day 9 - Alternate Prompt, "I love you"

More emotional pain fun with the predecessors of Hyrule Warriors! This one gets a little steamy and suggestive, but there's nothing explicit, FYI.

The courtyard was more beautiful than he'd ever seen it. Lanterns held the evening shadows at bay, the flowers were in full bloom, the water in the fountains sparkled in the light of fairies that had come with the great fairy's blessing. Magic was sweet in the air, little pops of it sending showering rainbows cascading down on the guests.

Link gazed at it all, entranced, temporarily pulled out of the usual dark exhaustion that numbed him to his core. For just a second, he genuinely felt alive, and for a moment longer, he recognized the gravity of the situation.

A baby. A baby.

The young king consort wandered through the gardens, barely noticing people bowing or nodding in acknowledgement to him. He had lost sight of the queen, and he knew he was supposed to be close to her.

He had walked through these gardens so many times in the past. It had been a while since he'd been outside, apart from going to the training grounds. He couldn't recall them ever looking so enlivened.

He wondered if the rest of the kingdom looked this bright. The last time he'd been outside the castle, Hyrule Field had been scorched earth.

Queen Zelda appeared ahead of him, standing on a slightly elevated part of the courtyard, and Link went to her. She was talking to Impa, who noticed Link's approach first, and the pair watched him as he climbed the stairs. Link looked Zelda over, a little unnerved at the swelling of her belly, at how it was emphasized by the dress she wore.

So many emotions flooded him. Guilt, pain, fear, hope, excitement, dread. He didn't know how to process this, how to look at the physical proof of what he'd been hearing for months. He hadn't seen her in months.

A baby.

The queen extended a hand, the motion holding gentle confidence despite the clear hesitancy in her gaze, and he automatically took it, letting her guide him towards the center of the courtyard. Impa's eyes never left him.

Crowds began to gather, more faces than he could count or focus on, and Link grew dizzy. He remained steadfast by his queen's side as she spoke to the people of Hyrule.

"Thank you for coming to celebrate with us," he heard when he tuned in. "The road has been perilous, but together, we are rebuilding. Hyrule will thrive once more, stronger than ever. May this child be a symbol of the goddess' favor, of the prosperity of Hyrule that is to come."

The crowd cheered, shouts of joy and praise and long live the queen and other phrases that Link could no longer decipher in the noise. His eyes wandered over the people aimlessly, letting himself be simultaneously shown off and ignored, until his gaze settled on a familiar face.

Amber eyes, captivating in their intensity. Dark brown skin, smooth and silky and glowing in the light. Fiery red hair, as bright as the sun, held out of a face with a high ponytail, spilling over bare shoulders in numerous small braids that were decorated with beads. A crimson bodice decorated with jewels and embroidery, with wide brimming baggy, silky pants and a shimmering red train laying overtop it that slid to the floor and pooled around like water.

The chief of the Gerudo.

Hemisi.

Link felt the blood drain out of his face. He hadn't seen her since... since... everything.

Although the Gerudo entourage around her applauded with the crowd, Hemisi was still and silent, just watching him, only him. Link wanted nothing more than to melt into the earth.

Something changed in the atmosphere. Queen Zelda released his hand, and the crowds moved. People started to mingle, many vying for the monarchs' attention. Though most flocked to his wife, Link still found himself suddenly surrounded by strangers, congratulating him and trying to make small talk and curry favor. Link did his best to fumble through the conversation, keeping his responses to smiles, nods, or a couple words, before the bombardment was interrupted. The crowd parted as if by force, and Link saw Hemisi approaching him, his party guests watching her uneasily.

Hemisi stopped a mere two paces away from him, but it felt like a canyon was between them.

"Your Highness," she acknowledged with a tip of her head.

Link swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Her name came out of his lips as a whisper, inaudible above the din, and he nodded his head to cover his slip up.

"I must say," one of the nobles who had surrounded him piped up. "It is quite the surprise to see you here, Gerudo. You were not present for the royal wedding - I assumed you would not wish to set foot in Hyrule once more given what your people have done to this land."

Link felt the bottom drop out of his stomach while his skin crawled. His hands twitched, rage pushing him to throttle the man while anxiety of the repercussions held him in place. He couldn't help the glare that he threw in the noble's direction, though.

Hemisi's seething look far surpassed it. Despite the murderous intent in her gaze, though, and the way the noble cowered, she had an impressive amount of restraint. Her words dripped with venom as she replied, "Ganondorf led the assault and caused the war. I fought against him. I understand these things can get confusing to you, as I know for certain none of you partook in the war, instead hiding away in your riches while your people bled. But I bled with my people, the Gerudo suffered just as Hylians did. And I not only defeated Ganondorf, I helped your princess and hero split his soul into shards to ensure this never happened again."

The noble had no rebuttal, too busy shrinking away, and the others left with him.

They were alone.

Link wanted to scream, to apologize, to hunt the noble down and slit his throat, to slit his own throat.

"You really do suck at this whole political thing, don't you?" Hemisi asked, a lesser bite to her tone.

Link finally felt his chest stop tightening, allowing him to take a breath and let out a small, pathetic laugh. "Yeah. I... well, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

What should he say? What could he say?

"Let's walk," Hemisi suggested, not waiting for his consent before she started to guide him away from the center of the party.

They walked in silence for a while, Link's mind whirling, unable to formulate a sentence, wondering what was happening and what he was about to have to handle. His heart raced at her touch, his mind screamed at her proximity.

Farore above, why did this have to be so complicated?

Link started to grow dizzy, but finally, finally Hemisi found a hidden corner and tucked both of them into it. The music sounded so far away, reality sounded so far away.

Here, in the darkness, away from politics and pressure, Link found his voice. "I'm sorry for that. I--that was completely unacceptable."

"Will you kill him?" Hemisi questioned, crossing her arms.

"What? No, I can't--"

"I'm joking, stupid," Hemisi interrupted with a huff, before cocking her head to the side and asking, "Would you, if you could?"

The heat surged him in once more. "I'd certainly like to beat that entitlement out of him."

Hemisi remained silent, watching him longer until he started to squirm under her scrutiny. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, or even where it should go - they hadn't spoken since--

"I'm sorry," he said before he realized it.

"You already said that."

"No, I--" he stumbled, caught between wanting to backtrack and wanting to follow through. How could he possibly apologize for everything? "I mean--I--"

"You did your duty," Hemisi replied in a monotone, as if to explain some unimportant detail, as if to hammer a point home, as if it didn't matter or mattered too much.

Link's head dropped, shame blushing his cheeks. But a bit of hope sparked in his heart too - if she could understand and accept it, then maybe he could too. Maybe they could salvage this.

"She looks fatter than I thought she would," Hemisi added dully, making Link's gaze snap back to her. The chief shrugged. "She does. Hope it hurts too."

"H-Hemisi," he chided halfheartedly, heart racing.

"You're going to defend her?" she snapped, ire returning in a heartbeat.

Why did this have to be so complicated? "You shouldn't--you shouldn't wish ill of her--"

"You don't?" Hemisi hissed back.

Link bit his tongue.

"You don't understand, do you?" she continued, taking a menacing step towards him. "How could you not understand--I thought you--after everything we've been through--"

"Hemisi, please--"

"Your people mock me and fear me despite everything, and that bitch is at the root of all these issues!"

"Don't call her that," Link snapped in return, the fire igniting inside him once more.

"I had to not only kill my own father, but tear his soul to pieces - he can't even rest in the afterlife, I helped condemn him to eternal hell, after already losing my mother and brother. And in the end, my reward was to lose the love of my life and let Hyrule punish my people for a war I didn't even start." Hemisi glowered. "I have every right to fight, every right to hate her, every reason to destroy this land, to take what is mine."

The air seemed to have frozen, alongside Link's blood. His ears were ringing, heart racing. This was spiraling out of control quickly, and his mind and heart were at war, sympathizing so much it hurt while also hearing Ganondorf's voice in her words.

Every right to fight, to destroy this land, to take what is mine.

Before he could retaliate, Hemisi backed down, just a hair, just enough to remove the danger from her words. "But I chose to stay my hand. People always say thank the goddesses when good things happen, but I assure you, the goddesses are thanking me."

The air was electric, and then the tension trickled away as Hemisi sighed, looking away. "Damn it. I wasn't--just forget it."

Link leaned against the stone wall, also averting his gaze. He was so tired. This wasn't exactly how he'd wanted a reunion between them to go, but he wasn't surprised that it was going this way.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, sincerely.

A calloused hand touched his cheek, making him flinch. He wasn't used to physical contact anymore, having hid himself away for so long after everything. But the touch was familiar, skin smelling of oils that she used when they'd first met, the caressing akin to how she'd touched him before the war. He melted into it for a moment, looking at her as she watched him. Although Hemisi was an opinionated woman, she didn't seem to have any kind of reply to his apology, and the world grew quiet around them. Link let his hand rest overtop hers, and eventually he noted softly, "Your hand's cold."

The Gerudo chief snorted. "It's cold here in Castle Town."

Link reached and took her other hand, guiding both of them to his chest while his hands rested overtop them to warm them. Hemisi tilted forward, leaning her body weight against his as the wall supported them both, her softness making his entire body tingle. Their faces were inches apart, and Link lost his breath as she leaned in and kissed him.

Goddesses he'd missed this, he'd missed her. His skin felt electric, his blood like fire. Memories of time spent with her flooded his heart and mind, of nights stargazing and pointing out different constellations they'd learned with the stories behind them, of days sparring, of discussions on culture and ideas and duties, of adventures exploring and sneaking around, of comfort as tensions rose, of anguish as war broke out, of despair and relief and hope and--

Link let her pull him to the grass, lost in the moment, wanting this more than anything, when he heard the music off in the distance.

The party. The queen. The baby.

"Stop," he whispered, trying to regain his voice.

Hemisi paused, looking at him from overtop him, her hair spilling over her and creating a veil between them and the rest of the world.

"Why?" she asked just as softly, hands massaging his scalp. "We deserve it. You've done your duty, the queen has her victory kid, the kingdom's in love with it. Come back to the desert with me."

Link was losing himself in the relaxing motion, his body's desires overpowering his senses, and he held his breath, pushing against the earth with one foot to flip them over so he had her pinned gently to the ground, hands holding hers down at the wrists, keeping the temptation at bay.

I'm better than this. I can control myself. "You know it's not that simple, Hemisi."

"But it is that simple," she argued. "You married Zelda because she demanded it, because she needed the kingdom to think the royal family was strong. You did the gig for a year, there's a baby now, the family will live on. She doesn't need you anymore. You did your duty."

"She's still my wife," Link argued, moving away from her to sit by the stone wall.

"Did you mean it when you took the vows?" Hemisi demanded, sitting up. "Did you actually want to marry her?"

"I--I didn't want to marry her, but--"

"Then it doesn't count!"

"It does," Link snapped, rising. "Because I meant those vows, and I take my promises seriously."

"How can you be this--this idiotic?!" Hemisi yelled, also shooting to her feet. "When you first said you had to marry her--we were promised to each other, Link, and--I waited, I waited, I even let her take you because I didn't want the war to continue either, but the war is over and she has her token child, just leave her!"

"I already told you I can't!" Link argued. "Don't you understand what would happen? I meant those vows for a reason, Hemisi! This isn't just about Zelda's demands, it's about the entire kingdom! You're not the only one who had to sacrifice for peace! If Zelda and I hadn't married, it could've destroyed the Sheikah, the stability of the crown, and Hyrule along with it."

Link shook his head, feeling nauseous, and looked away. "If I were to leave her, especially for you, there will never be peace."

"You think Zelda will start a war again," Hemisi growled.

"Not her," Link replied. "But everyone else."

"You're defending her?"

"Hemisi, please," Link begged, getting the courage to look her in the eye again. "Please. I don't want anyone else to die. I especially don't want you to get hurt."

"You think I'd let them kill me?" she asked challengingly, though her tone was quiet and the way her eyebrow rose was as cheeky as it could be.

Link had to smile at it, complications forgotten temporarily, and he hugged her so tightly he could barely breathe. She held him just as fiercely. "I love you so much."

Hemisi's breath tickled his ear, shaky and vulnerable, and she buried her face in his shoulder to hide the tremble in her tone. "I love you too."

The pair stood there for what felt like hours, clinging to each other for comfort, desperate to express their care for each other, terrified to release each other, wanting nothing more than to make the rest of the world melt away.

Voices came ever closer, and eventually they let go. Hemisi dipped down to pick up the crown that had fallen off Link when they'd tumbled to the ground, and she silently placed it back on his head.

#writing #febuwhump #good ganondorf #hero of power #hemisi #idk why I'm giving them tags they're not even that prevalent on the blog #at least not yet lol #anyway I love them and torture them #this febuwhump is way more angst than whump whoops #it hurts either way though #pain is pain so there lol #they're all in a sucky situation #legend of zelda #skye time travels through the queue #imprisoning war

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cryptids-of-spielzeit · 2 months

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Sundae

Part 3: One Scoop Oreo

(A Sun Dog Story)

It had been only 3 days since the encounter with the mad hunter. The Neapolitan trio have had a safe trip through the woods. A suspiciously safe trip. There haven't been any sort of dangers in their way, no little ones, no violent animals...nothing.

They had made their last stop of the day, a huge oak tree. Strawberry and Chocolate began their new routine, with Strawberry climbing the tree, scouting above for any sort of danger, while Chocolate stayed on the ground, patrolling the area. Our scoop of vanilla, on the other hand, dealt with other matters, making the fire and making dinner for all of them.

The sun was starting to set, and with no clear danger in sight, the group gathered around the fire. Dogday had prepared a few fire-roasted apples for all of them.

"Another great meal by our resident chef! Thank you Picky!"

Those damn quotes. He should be thanking himself. She's been gone for a long time. He couldn't shut it up, not with the other two around....but why should he? The other two are around. He isn't alone. Rather, they weren't alone.

A rustling was heard in the tree above, and all three were prepared. They knew how to deal with the little ones by now. It slowly peered its head from out of the leaves. It was just a little possum. It must've just woken up, given how it didn't seem to notice the three below.

It wasn't bothering them, so they wouldn't bother it. It sat on the branch above them, still somewhat tired. It seems the three below had a guest for that evening. No bother to them though, all were welcome if they had no ill will. And before they knew it, the three were asleep.

Later that night, all was quiet. The possum hadn't left the tree, it was looking like it'd stay there all night. It was the only one up there. And seeing some new faces intrigued it, somewhat. It didn't know whether or not to go down there, it didn't know if they were to be trusted.

It was then that the possum heard a strange noise. A giggle. It stood up, not sure whether it was a predator or something else. Regardless, the stress was enough to make it play possum, sending it falling.

It landed right on top of the dog, jolting him awake, along with the others. As soon as he noticed the supposed corpse, he tried his best to save it. At least, he did, before he realized that something had to do that to the poor thing. And it was right behind them.

A large swarm of the little ones, giggling with sadistic glee, covered in fresh gore. The only barrier between them being their campfire. The three were lucky. They needed fuel.

It lasted for about 30 minutes. Sure, the little ones were small. Sure, they were made of felt and fabric. But they had relatively great strength for their stature. But, again, they were made of felt and fabric.

The possum had bore witness to the entire ordeal. In its little brain, it had made its decision.

"Friend."

The fire grew quite big, luckily not enough to start a forest fire. Dogday went to check on the possum. He had feared the worst. He wasn't taught much about possums. He had strangely never heard the phrase "playing dead", so he really did think the poor thing was on its last legs.

As he approached the "corpse", it sprang back to life, as alive and chipper as it could be.

"...Man, am I glad you're okay."

It crawled over to Dogday, rubbing its head against his waist. Strawberry yipped with joy. A new friend had joined the party!

"Now what am I going to call you?....oh! How about Oreo! Only other ice cream flavor I know, hehe. And hey, you're grey, so it fits, right?"

The possum nuzzled him more, mustering what could be considered a smile. And, giving a big yawn, went right back to sleep. Good idea, little guy.

And so, yet another night loomed over the group, and hopefully, it would now be a safe one.

They don't know it now, but this was a new beginning. The 4 of them were now a family.

His friends would be so proud.

"Isn't it great to have friends?"

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isagrimorie · 7 months

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I know many people have a problem with Sabine's second major use of the Force. I already gave my thoughts in this post about Sabine's use of the Force in the season finale.

("For someone else, for someone she loves, Sabine can do the impossible." | "It's about belief and faith.")

It was about her belief and need to use the Force at the moment she needed it and the mental and emotional state she was in that she was ready to remove her block from the Force.

In an ideal scenario, I would love 16 episodes for this to play out, and maybe even up to season 2 before Sabine manifests more of her Force abilities, but truncated time and the Mandoverse's need to move story along took precedence.

But also, IMO, Sabine doesn't display anything that can be considered above the average for a standard Jedi.

In the animation, it doesn't really sell how grand and how far the distances are. The feats of Jedi crossing this distance in animation vs how it is in real life -- the scale of the Star Destroyer vs a humanoid being. The impossible distance.

Ezra is watching his only chance back home, and Sabine is watching the only chance she has in getting Ezra back home.

In fact, Sabine has stepped a few steps forward:

As if she couldn't bear the idea, she has failed Ezra. Ezra admits he can't make the jump, and Sabine's face has hardened into this:

Because she's made her decision.

She just got the hang of the Force but for this, for Ezra, she will get him across.

At this moment, Sabine's never more certain she understood the phrase: "Do or do not, there is no try."

If there is one thing that's been clear in this series, Sabine's singular focus, her mission above all else, was to find Ezra and bring him back home. Sabine would prefer they all made it home, but beggars can't be choosers.

Ezra propels himself forward in a Force-powered leap and even with the Force-powered jump, he's still far away from the Star Destroyer:

Just as Ezra's about to plummet to his death, Sabine summons all the Force she can summon at her level of skill and propels him the last few meters.

BTW, as a sound design thing, this loud rumble was also there when Sabine first attempted to Force-push Shin in episode 4, The Fallen Jedi. This means Sabine did access the Force a bit in that moment. Its just at that moment -- it was still pretty weak, it was weaker than a slap.

Sabine looks pretty terrified, mixed with hope that she's finally doing it but also terrified she might kill Ezra, but she's not letting that fear get her. She has a job to do.

And then, hilariously (to me), Sabine almost fails because her Force push can only reach so far, and Ezra falls short of the target.

And there's a brief horrified look on Sabine's face as she realizes she couldn't push Ezra that far. He wouldn't reach the Chimera.

It's a good thing Ezra himself has the Force, and he simply used the Force to pull himself nearer to the ship:

And he's just dangling there just a little off-screen before he jumps inside the Chimera and kills one of the Night Troopers.

Also if you look to the right, you can see Baylan and Shin's ship where Ezra might have stayed during the duration of the travel from Peridea to his home galaxy.

Mission accomplished.

I wonder if, at this point, Sabine had an inkling she wouldn't be joining Ezra on that trip home. Ezra might be able to do a Force-powered Jedi jump but that's clearly something Sabine hasn't practiced in.

(This is also possibly why, in this show, Sabine doesn't have her jetpack).

I hope this makes sense since I wrote this half asleep.

#thinky thoughts #sabine wren #i am one with the force and the force is with me #ezra bridger #star wars ahsoka #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka 1x08 #also sabine's nightmares #i feel weren't JUST nightmares #the nightsisters have been contacting morgan #and i don't think its far off to think #that ezra's been unconsciously broadcasting towards sabine #and it just kept happening more over the years #especially after her family died

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jcbbby · 1 year

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okay so a fic where the reader is like super scared of like love and intimacy bc she’s never felt it or had it reciprocated before and her and jamie are in bed and she’s like “can i tell you something? i’m kind of scared of you” and he’s like why and she explains it’s bc she’s never felt this way or had anyone else feel this way about her and it scares her to lose it and he admits he loves her and it freaks her out but they love each other so it ends in fluff lol

🎉JCBBBY'S 500 FOLLOWER PARTY🎉

very interesting concept! I hope you enjoy, thank you for sending in a prompt! <3 I'm also sorry that this is more a blurb than a fic! I fear these last few 500 follower prompts will be rather short just since I don't have a ton of time these next few days. but I really hope they're still nice to read!!!! - "Can I tell you something? I'm kind of scared of you." warnings: none! genre: fluff -

These last six months with Jamie had been a dream. But that's just it, that's what had you always having a pit of anxiety in your stomach lately. It had been six months of smiles, laughs, memories...surely that would all fall apart soon just as it always does, right?

Jamie seemed so perfect, though. He was always so thoughtful and attentive, he remembered the little things, and even surprised you on your birthday with your favorite flowers, which you couldn't believe he even thought of. You dreaded the day he inevitably would start pulling away, eventually stepping out of your life like it was nothing, like you meant nothing. Everyone else had in the past. Once they had gotten their use out of you, grown tired of you, you'd been discarded and left feeling like you just didn't have enough to give. It must be only a matter of time before he left too, no matter how much you hoped he wouldn't.

It terrified you to lose him. You couldn't lose him, not this time. You'd never felt so taken care of and appreciated, and it was often overwhelming to think about the pain that him ending things might cause.

"Babe?" Jamie asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You snapped your head over to him laying next to you in bed.

He chuckled. "I asked if you wanted to go get brunch tomorrow, that little corner diner we went to on Valentine's Day?"

You cleared your throat. "Oh, yeah. Yeah that sounds nice." You smiled.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, reaching for your hand laid over the comforter. "What's on your mind? You okay?"

You took a deep breath. Maybe talking about it would pull the band aid off quicker. He could tell you then that he thinks maybe you should go your separate ways, or that he wants to see other people, or that you want different things, or one of the many other phrases that echo in your mind. If you could just get it over with, the pain would be over sooner too. Or maybe...maybe he would reassure you. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He seemed different, maybe he was different.

"Can I tell you something? I'm kind of afraid of you." You looked up at him, a grimace spreading across your face.

He tilted his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter in his. "Scared of me? Darling, what do you mean? I'm not scary, am I?"

You shook your head. "No, no. Of course not. It's just..." You felt the tears come on with no warning. They were immediately staining your cheeks.

Jamie pulled you in close to him, holding you against his chest as he caressed your back. "Hey, hey..." He cooed. "You can tell me, love."

"It's just...everyone leaves. They always do." You sniffled, pulling yourself away from his embrace. "There's always a point where everyone decides they're done with me. And I...I don't want you to too." You wiped your eyes.

"Darling...I'm not going anywhere. I promise, okay? I love you." He smiled, bringing his head down to glance up at you.

You paused a moment, trying to process his words. "You-You love me? Oh, no... no, please don't say that. That will just make it so much worse when..." You frowned, closing your eyes as more tears fell from them.

Jamie pulled you in again, holding you tightly against him. He kissed the side of your head, speaking quietly into your ear. "Baby, no. No, I mean it. I'm not going anywhere, unless you want me to?" He asked.

"No, never." You said, muffled into his chest.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page then. Neither of us are going anywhere." He chuckled. "Hmm?" He released you, holding you at arms length.

You smiled, leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He brought his hands up to either side of your cheeks, holding you there as he kissed you back. You both smiled into each other's lips. As the kiss broke, you leaned yourself into his arms, pressing your back into his chest as he brought his arms around you.

He rested his cheek against yours. "I'm glad we talked about this. I don't want you to ever feel like you're not enough. And I meant it, I do love you."

You smiled, exhaling a sigh of contentment. "I love you too, Jamie."

#jcbbby 500 follower party!#jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower rpf #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie bower fanfic

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travllingbunny · 2 years

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I can't stop thinking about the Mockingjay/The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes parallels, and the meanings of "The Hanging Tree". When she first sings the song, we get a long analysis of it from Katniss' POV, finishing with this:

"The phrase Where I told you to run, so we’d both be free is the most troubling because at first you think he’s talking about when he told her to flee, presumably to safety. But then you wonder if he meant for her to run to him. To death. In the final stanza, it’s clear that that’s what he was waiting for. His lover, with her rope necklace, hanging dead next to him in the tree.

I used to think the murderer was the creepiest guy imaginable. Now, with a couple of trips to the Hunger Games under my belt, I decide not to judge him without knowing more details. Maybe his lover was already sentenced to death and he was trying to make it easier. To let her know he’d be waiting. Or maybe he thought the place he was leaving her was really worse than death. Didn’t I want to kill Peeta with that syringe to save him from the Capitol? Was that really my only option? Probably not, but I couldn’t think of another at the time."

This was, of course, huge foreshadowing for what indeed does happen to Peeta when he is hijacked. Mockingjay was my favorite novel in the original trilogy (and Mockingjay part 1 my favorite THG film) and the hijacking storyline is one of the big reasons.

Peeta is indeed given a fate "worse than death" when he is turned into a "mutt". He is referred to as "mutt" many times in the book. We - and Katniss - were prepared to think something horrible was done to him, but did not expect that he would be turned into an unrecognizable psychological mutant-monster, who tries to kill the girl he loves and who loves him, a monster filled with violence and cynicism who believes her to be a monster trying to kill him, an absolutely ruthless killer, a heartless minx who just pretended to love him and toyed with him and another guy for her own amusement, and all the worst things you can imagine.

Which all now sounds incredibly familiar after reading TBOSAS. Hijacked Peeta is basically Coriolanus Snow hunting Lucy Gray in the woods. There's absolutely no doubt that Snow personally came up with the scenario for Peeta's hijacking.

During that scene in TBOSAS, Snow hears Lucy Gray singing that last verse of "The Hanging Tree". Among his not-very-coherent thoughts at the moment, since he is in the midst of completely losing it, he thinks it's her playing games with him, telling him she knows about Sejanus. But throughout the book or at least in Chapter 3, and especially towards the end, he has repeatedly misunderstood her and things she told him, over and over. He also thought she was trying to kill him with the snake she left with the shawl he had given her, but whether or not she even left the snake, it turns out she definitely was not trying to kill him, since the snake was not venomous. Playing some sort of a mind game really doesn't seem like something she would really do at such a moment, and if this was really her singing, then it's the last thing we ever heard Lucy Gray Baird say.

When I went back and re-read Katniss' quote, the line "maybe he thought the place he was leaving her was really worse than death" made it click for me.

There is a mention of what a fate worse than death would be in TBOSAS, too, at the beginning of Chapter 3, when Snow fears what Capitol may have done to Lucy Gray, rather than just send her to District 12, and he thinks she may have been "imprisoned, killed, or turned into an Avox. Or worse, sent to a life of experimentation in Dr Gaul's lab of horrors". Again, being turned into a mutt - mutant-monster is singled out as the worst fate possible.

At the end of Chapter 3, we find out that Snow's time in District 12 and so much of what happened had been intentionally set up by Dr. Gaul as a part of his "education". In a a way, he was a part of her experiment, which helped turn him from a pretty normal human (entitled, selfish, over-ambitious, but human and with some good impulses too) to a complete monster, utterly evil and emotionally dead inside. While the people who loved him died (or presumably died) because of him, he survived and became Dr. Gaul's favorite mutt.

#the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #dr volumnia gaul #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #mockingjay #the hanging tree #the hunger games meta #thg meta #tbosas meta

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lgcseojin · 6 months

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✱ TRACK 012

— TEAM UNKNOWN: solo evaluation 파랗게 ( Love Me Harder ) ⸻ WOODZ ( performed by Park Seojin )

The last week of these evaluations cannot come soon enough. His mind is still reeling from his vocal performance of Miracles In December, and how it has already been two weeks back since each trainee was put out on their own. He still is prone to wonder if he did well; if his abilities would be adequate enough for the coaches.

The tenth and final week is the moment of truth, however. Anticipation leaves his stomach churning and his nerves raw. A week is more than enough time, he tells himself—reminds again that he is more than ready. The sore muscles and try after try during late nights had to amount to something.

But how much longer will I have to prove myself?

Seojin doesn't dress himself up in any particular way. He is under the assumption that anything would do just fine for an evaluation. Of course, he remains presentable—the freshly dyed ( and cut ) auburn red hair sitting on his head has been carefully combed through after a careful wash. He leaves it to part carefully over his brows. An impulsive change from the style he'd been sporting for so long now. The black jeans and simply white t-shirt he wears are for comfort; the leather jacket for part of his performance. Unconsciously, he has matched himself to the performing artist. ( He can laugh about that later. )

He gulps, fearing his throat may grow raw if he allows himself to ponder upon these things much longer. He can no longer sit in silent anticipation. His name has been called by now.

"Hello," He bows in greeting as he enters the room, standing in the center with his hands clasped in front of his lap. "My name is Park Seojin. I will be performing for you today. Please grade me well. I'm gonna do my best." He shoots finger guns and a smirk in the direction of the coaches before turning around into his starting pose, setting the leather jacket on the ground.

The beginning whistle tune plays and he spins around, timing his movements to the sound of a lighter. He sings atop the music with his strong voice, carrying the story of the song and concept. Halfway through, when there is a shift into the next verse, Seojin grabs the leather jacket on the ground and flings it over his shoulder while he struts around. When he puts it on and does the lazy walk in the choreography, he steps toward the female coach and procures a blue rose, aligning it with the soft phrase "she got deep blue". Perhaps it is obvious he has rehearsed quite a bit.

By the time he goes back into the performance, it is clear he has been fully immersed in the character of the song ( So much so, he doesn’t even notice his shoe comes untied. ) It is cheeky, daring, fun—so essentially him. In his mind, he is on stage, backup dancers behind him working in tandem and the audience in front of him. He even includes a wink or two before he is done.

#✱ ㅡ alone with my thoughts. ( solo )#lgc:teamunknownmission #phew...#no pictures bc im nervous #but hes changing his hair next month

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myckicade · 1 year

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Mayans M.C. - 05x01 and 05x02

Thoughts, spoilers, and predictions behind the cut.

Please note, these are mostly just the ramblings of a lunatic. *waves* That'd be me.

Well. For fuck's fucking sakes. I had no idea about the premier until yesterday morning, because that is just how little I paid attention to the announcement. (I saw it posted, but if I checked for a date... Psssh... I certainly didn't remember it!).

Anyhow. Two-episode premiers kill me, and not in a good way. I'm exhausted, but that means the episodes held my attention well enough to keep me awake, so. That said, let me try and recall everything that I had wanted to say.

Okay, right off the bat:

The coffin in the previews. I haven't gone back to pause and take a head count, but I'd bet money that that's going to Alvarez in there, when the time comes. If not Alvarez, then Angel, but that's a sleek-looking casket. I just have a bad feeling for the both of them, because, as of right now, they are the only two who seem to be seeing reason. There are logical reasons why it wouldn't be Alvarez (mostly that I can't see his Mrs. just letting the Club have his body for that, unless he gets pulled back in). It's just a sinking feeling I have.

Alvarez. Since I've already brought him up... NEW BABY! YAY! But, it's clear that The World is weighing on him. I was quite surprised when he yelled at Santi, because he's been shown as such a good father. Then... Well. We all remember what happened with Esai. ANYHOW. Alvarez is one of the few characters I still stand behind. I want him to be able to retire in TRUE peace. My fear is that, if he goes down, his family will go with him, and I just don't want that.

Angel. I got A Bad Feeling while he was talking with Felipe, because that's usually the way. A man tries to do better for his family, and for himself, and he gets taken out. (Still a little sore over Coco). I fear that Angel will have this big redemption arc, only to have his heart broken, and then shot to shreds. It always takes something serious for the Main Dude to come around to reason, and become complete unhinged, at the same time. Much as I want to strangle the little bitch... I don't want Angel to be EZ's awakening.

EZ. I've been done with that motherfucker for at least two seasons. Not much has changed there.

Bishop. He's right. EZ will get them all killed. If not, then at least a few steps closer to the grave, each. Bishop can be the last man standing. I also hope he chokes on a cunt hair, stepping out on a nice lady like that. Shame on him.

Miguel. I like this man, and I think that's because I'm entirely partial to Danny Pino. He has a Good Boy face, and plays a Bad Dude so well. (I first saw him on The Shield, back in the early 2000's, playing Armadillo Quintero, and it was all uphill from there). ANYWAY. I wouldn't mind him getting a happy-ish ending. The fact that he's quietly trying to protect Little Brothers in the middle of a war just tickles me. When Soledad told him to cut his sentimental ties (or however she phrased that one), I snickered. The mess with his wife, on the other hand... I have to admit, I don't much care. His trip to the urinal, though... That scene brought me great joy.

Emily. This broad. She hasn't been a worthwhile character in so long? She could have disappeared from the show, and I wouldn't have given a damn. Pretty clear where this is going to go, now that she is - once again - down and desperate for help. I just never understood the point of her character. She's so far removed from EZ now, the road to getting them back into the same orbit is just going to suck.

Creeper. CAN THIS MAN PLEASE CATCH A FUCKING BREAK?! The poor bastard is the MC piñata, both physically and emotionally taking beatings left and right. CRIPES, y'all. Give the dude a break! I hope his little backstabbing bitch gets what's coming to her, one way or another.

Hank. My heart went out to him, last night. Doing what's best for our parents can sometimes suck. Hard. Aging is a gift denied to many, but the process can sometimes be ugly as sin. I felt Hank's pain on a personal level, as my own parents aren't in the best of health, and one of my greatest fears as a future caregiver is that I will have to make one of those Tough Calls. All the same, I saw some negative reactions toward him 'just leaving her there', and that made me mad. We all know how much Hank adores his mother. He's not in the best of shape himself, what with the cane, and picking up someone who takes a fall? Not as easy as it sounds. Ugh. It had to have been tearing him up inside, so I hope some folks can wake up to see that he isn't a bad guy for doing what he had to do for his mother. Shitty situation. Shitty choice to make. Shitty outcome.

Letty. Girlfriend. SO HAPPY to see she's still around. I thought that they might write her out, to be perfectly honest. While her new career choice is... interesting, to say the least, I am glad to see that she and Hope have worked themselves out. I don't care much for Hope's character. (She's a bit flat for me, personality-wise). But, I don't hate her. So. There is that.

Whew. That was a lot. But, that brings me to my final point:

HOW MANY STORYLINES DO WE REALLY NEED?! I feel that certain threads of this series could have been so much better if they had eased off on branching off in so many places. We don't get to spend much time on anything (except that thrice-be-damned pipeline), and the story really does suffer for it. I understand the concept of wide, wild visions for telling a tale. Believe me, I do. But this series lacks focus, unable to find a balanced manner of storytelling. It's fragmented, and rushed, and I know I complained about it last season, as well. I'm still watching. I'm going to finish it, God willing. But there was definite room for improvement on this one.

Bonus Thoughts:

"Put them back on the truck", and the resulting groans. Angel's reaction, especially. PERFECTION.

Angel's pooch encounter was also hysterical. 10/10.

I MAY HAVE MOMENTARILY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE BROTHER THING. I was enjoying the delicious tension between Miguel and EZ for a hot minute, before it all came back to me. (I did that in the first season of Supernatural, too. Came in toward the end of the season, and thought Dean and John had some sexy friction between them, until my husband finally said, "HE'S THEIR FATHER!!!!"... Whoopsies...).

Unpopular Opinion: This Guero dude is already on my nerves. Sorry. Obnoxious as hell, he is.

I'm glad Felipe is getting to spend time with Maverick. (Oh, gag, that name...).

P.S. Hats off to Clayton Cardenas for the scene with the intruders. Angel isn't one to shrink back in fear, bullheaded as he is, but I could taste the terror on him when he found his son in danger. Mm. Delicious work, there.

#Mayans MC #Mayans MC Spoilers #Mycki Rambles #Reaction Post

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coffeeheartaddict2 · 1 year

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Mornings After

Book: Open Heart (multiple points)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Casey Valentine(Ramsey)

Warnings: mentions of previous sexual activity, pregnant loss

Category: angsty fluff

Rating: PG

Word Count: 963

Summary: Ethan pov of some of the key points in their relationship.

Disclaimer: characters belong to Pixelberry

Authors note: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge . Prompt used is Sunshine shining through the window. This will appear in bold.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Intern year- morning after the country club.

Ethan awoke with his head thumping, a reminder that despite his tolerance, he is no longer in his 20’s. He squints as the curtain is still open, sunshine shining through the window. Normally he shuts it but he looks down and sees Casey. Flashbacks of the night before, the request to see the view, putting her against the window as he worshiped at the altar of her sex before making love to her, like he had many times before in his dreams. He did not regret, after all he was no longer her boss but he could not help but feel that his relationship would hinder her in the Ethics trial. She looked peaceful, unburdened. He kissed the top of her head before going back to sleep, hopeful that the night before was not the only time.

Intern year- morning after the Ethics hearing.

Against his better judgment he stayed at Casey’s. The sun was starting to shine through the clouds into her window. He knew the decision that he came to about Brazil was going to hurt her but he needed to push her and he could not do so whilst romantically involved, also there was no word of the competition ending so he had to be a coward and run. Casey starts to stir, he wants to have sex with her one last time, but she says she needs to sneak him out before her housemates awaken. He kisses her, for what he thinks is the last time, cataloguing the feel of her mouth and the small noises she makes.

Second year: The day of the funeral.

He wakes with a start. The nightmare that he had been having since the attack. He sits there regaining his composure before getting up and getting his coffee. He watched the sun try and peak through the clouds. He was relieved that Casey would be released today. His mind drifts to the words he wants to say to Casey. “I love you.” A phrase so small yet such a big step. All he knows is that she is alive and that he can say them. He had spoken to her since the attack but it was while she was in hospital and it did not seem right. He hoped to tell her soon but also wanted the moment to be right.

Morning after the funeral.

She is alive but he can tell the mental anguish. At least there is some clarity in the relationship. He is done denying. Yes, keeping things professional at work but the reset is over. He knows the road will not be smooth but he knows she is worth the risk.

The morning after the hospital closes.

He sleeps in. The sun has been up for ages and it is a bright day, certainly not reflecting his mood. All he knows is that he needs to have an important discussion with Casey about them. Already he had screwed things up but with a resolve to tell her how he feels truly, he is confident that will help her be clear where he stands. His phone goes off, it is Casey wanting to meet. Old habits die hard and they agree to meet at Derry’s. He goes there to tell her how he feels and he has no idea of the surprise waiting for him.

The morning after telling Casey he loves her.

Finally he has done it. Admitted to Casey how he truly feels and she feels the same. It is surreal. Casey is the first woman he has truly loved and despite the resets, stubbornness and his fears she has stayed and given chances but also patience. He looks at the woman beside him in bed, the sunlight showing her complete and utterly contempt. He smiles like the lovestruck fool he is. For the first time ever he is optimistic about the future and importantly a future with her. He had the thought last night and has it again now, end of residency he will ask her to marry him. He kisses her on the top of her head and goes to make their coffee.

Morning after board results party.

She said yes. Ethan could not be happier if he tried. He had planned on asking her next week, the official end to her residency but he asked last night. This was certainly something he had never seen for himself but he is happy. The sun is bright this morning, matching his mood.

Morning of surgery for missed miscarriage.

It is a cloudy dawn, reflecting the mood in the Ramsey residence. What should have been a happy time was dealt the cruelest of blows yesterday, finding out that they lost the baby. He believed that children was never in the cards but then he met Casey and fell in love with her and he found himself wanting it all. He was confident that they would through their individual and combined grief but he knew it would be hard.

January 2025.

The last sunrise he was seeing at this apartment was bittersweet. Despite barely being in this apartment when he bought it, it had become home but Casey wanted to feel like that their home together was theirs, somewhere where they could be a family. They have bought a bigger apartment in the Seaport district. When they put the offer in, neither expected Casey to be pregnant. He was elated to finally be a father and moving into a more family friendly apartment before the arrival seemed right. He looked over to the bed, the last time he would see her asleep in this bedroom and he smiled. He could now not imagine his life without her and like the Dawn, their future was bright.

Authors note: there are so many other thoughts occurring at Dawn that I could have added but decided on what I wrote. Thank you for reading this far.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @cariantha @tessa-liam @a-crepusculo @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @binny1985 @schnitzelbutterfingers @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter

@choicesmonthlychallenge @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #choices fanfic writers creations #choices fanfic #choices monthly challenge #cfwc fotw #Dawn can really reflect the moods of Ethan Ramsey

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eternally-smitten · 1 year

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Avows

summary: After not speaking for a few days, Paul is finally able to see Natalie and talk honestly with her.

content warnings: religious themes, religious talk, Midnight Mass spoilers, some angst (quickly resolved though!)

word count: ~ 1.3k

author's note: Finally! A confession fic! Yes, I know the title is corny as hell. I didn't know what else to use lol. I also can't help but make confessions angsty as hell

Quiet. So very quiet. Silent. Still. Cold. Isolated. That’s how the last few days have felt to Natalie. She had been trying to bury herself in her work and in the library but it was no use. Nothing could truly distract her from how lonely she felt. It seemed that Paul had completely abandoned her. He hadn’t spoken to her at all this week and every time they almost ran into each other, he’d find some way to avoid her. Actually, she only ever saw him at night anymore. He seems to avoid the daytime nowadays. She tried asking the fellow islanders, but it seemed that no one knew what was going on with the mysterious priest. Even then, she couldn’t ask too many questions because then gossip would spread about her having desires for a holy man. Natalie was confused and hurt. She searched through her memories time and time again, combing through every little detail she could remember to see if she had done something to offend her dear friend. But, she found nothing. Out of fear of overstepping boundaries and invading his space, Natalie had just left him alone. She figured if he wanted to talk, he would come find her. But, of course, he never did. She sighed and looked outside. It was already getting dark. She figured she could get away with closing a little early since no one was in the library currently. Throwing on her sweater, Natalie grabbed her things and locked up the library for the night. Outside, the air was bitter and brisk. The wind made it feel so much colder than it actually was. Natalie tightened her sweater around her to try to keep warm before heading home.

“Natalie!” A voice called behind her, startling her. She turned to see who called out to her and much to her surprise, it was Paul. Natalie cocked her head to the side, becoming even more confused about their current situation. Paul caught up to her and cleared his throat, “May I walk you home?”

“Oh, you don’t need to.” She shook her head, looking at her feet, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“No, not at all. I offered for a reason.” He smiled, “Or, shall I carry something for you?”

“No thank you. That’s quite alright.”

Paul shifted awkwardly, “Can I at least walk with you? I…would like to talk.”

“I’m surprised, if I’m being frank.” Natalie blurted out without thinking, “I mean, for the past few days-”

“I know,” He interrupted her, “I’m aware. But, I can explain everything to you. I’d appreciate a few moments of your time, if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t know what to say. Here she was, thinking that it was her fault all this time just for him to suddenly appear to apologize. She took a breath, “I am curious.”

“I figured you would be.” He extended his hand towards the road, “Shall we?”

Natalie nodded silently and started walking. Paul walked beside her with his hands clasped, almost apologetically.

He cleared his throat again, “I understand that you might be upset with me.”

She swallowed, “Yeah, I am.”

“I figured as much. Who wouldn’t be when presented with something so…impolite.”

“I guess that’s a way to phrase it.”

“But, I have my reasons. I’ve just been trying to figure out how to explain this to everyone. Especially you.” Paul fidgeted with his collar nervously.

“Explain what?” Natalie asked, walking up her front steps, “Why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Natalie, please, may I ask you for a favor?”

“What?” She clutched her things close to her chest.

“Will you walk down to the ocean with me? Please?”

“What?” Natalie repeated.

“I just…I need more time with you. Everyone is inside for the night or asleep, too. So it’s private. Please.” He pleaded urgently.

She sighed, “Let me put my things away, okay?”

“Of course. Thank you, my dear.” He let out a sigh of relief when Natalie closed the door. Paul waited patiently outside for her, wringing his hands. He felt like his heart was inside of his throat, begging to crawl out. His eyes lit up when Natalie returned, but she still looked upset.

“Okay, Paul.” She put her hands in her pockets, “Lead the way.”

Nodding, Paul walked ahead quickly, looking over his shoulder every few steps to make sure Natalie was behind him. He led her down a semi-secluded path to the empty beach, the only indicator they were getting closer being the sound of the waves crashing growing louder. Finally, they arrived. Hidden from prying eyes and gossiping voices, the night sky being their cover and the waves drowning them out enough so no one could hear them. It was perfect.

“So, what’s this all about, Paul?” Natalie yelled over the waves, “What have I done wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“No, no!” He yelled back, “You never did anything wrong!”

“Then why?”

“I…” He trailed off, losing his train of thought. He furrowed his eyebrows and bit his thumbnail, thinking of what to say.

“Paul?” She pulled her sweater closer to her, the ocean breeze sending a chill down her spine, “I don’t understand.”

“I know, my dear, I know!” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, “It’s all so confusing. I was lost as well, but now? Now I’m beginning to understand!”

“What?” Natalie shook her head. He wasn’t making any sense to her.

“My dear, listen to me closely. I have…I have lived a long time. I’ve seen so many things. I have researched and studied my faith all my life. But, there are things that still surprise me!” He laughed, his excitement overwhelming him, “Natalie, I’ve figured it out!”

“Paul, you’re scaring me.” She stared at him, her eyes wide.

Paul’s smile fell a bit and he squeezed her shoulders gently, “No, no, no! There’s nothing to fear! This…This is all amazing!”

“What is, though? You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He took a breath, “My dear, I’ve been devout to our Lord my entire life and never, never in a thousand years would I think that I would be a worthy enough man to witness angels here on earth.”

“Angels?”

“Yes! Angels!” Paul let go of her shoulders but quickly grabbed her hands instead, “I have been blessed. As devout as I am, I’m afraid I’ve begun to sin. Natalie, my dear, oh, my darling!” His hands cupped her face, “You are one of the angels I have been blessed to witness!”

“You’re still not making sense.” Natalie’s hands laid on top of his, “Please, slow down and explain it again to me.”

“There’s so much going on. So much to discuss. How can I say it all in one sentence?” Paul’s hair started to fall in his face due to the wind, “But I’ll say this and explain the rest later. Natalie, I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“You…me?”

“Yes!” Paul laughed again, “Words can’t even begin to describe how much I’ve fallen for you! Please, I know I am speaking like a drunken madman right now, but please, I want to be yours if you’ll have me.”

All Natalie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. Her lack of response startled Paul, making him wonder if he did the wrong thing or not. Then, Natalie pressed her lips to his and kissed him like it was her last moment on Earth.

“Yes,” She whispered against his lips, “Of course I’ll have you.”

Paul returned the kiss earnestly before pulling away and pressing Natalie to his chest, “Oh, my angel!” He tangled his fingers in her hair, “We are going to witness amazing things. Marvelous, magnificent things. Together.”

Tag list: @frozenhi-chews @bobmckenzie @connor-roys @fallen-for-them @speedstershipping @timothymcgees @obscureotter69 @gideongrovel @olivierslovebug @fates-theysband lmk if you want to be added/removed!

#my stuff ♡#꒰ to dust you shall return ◌ೄ #cw religion #religion cw #ok to rb!

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amayadartan · 1 year

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Amaya’s eyes fluttered open and when she saw the strange trees around her, her mind didn’t bring forth the memory of what had transpired the previous night. In a panic, she jumped up off of the log; but the way she had been positioned had cut off circulation slightly to her legs, the lack of circulation leading to weakness and numbness which caused her to stumble. She started to fall as she almost hyperventilated; fear quickly blooming in her breast as she came more awake. Her arms windmilled as she tried to catch her balance, but her knees buckled which had her falling forward. Panic coursed through her as her mind raced to find a spell to keep her from faceplanting on the ground and bring her memories back.

Dartan watched the little witch wake up, and it was clear that it was not a peaceful process. Before she injured herself by falling on her face, he wrapped an arm around her waist and caught her. The last thing either of them needed was an injury; not in a place where the scent of blood could bring any number of vicious creatures hunting for them. He was glad when it worked in stopping her from falling and she didn’t fight against him; since he wasn’t corporeal, there was a chance she might just slip through his arms regardless of his attempt. Leading her the night before and stopping her momentum when falling were two completely different things. “Calm down, little witch. You are going to get yourself hurt.” He kept his voice calm, even, and low as not to scare or spook her. He also didn’t want to find out what would happen if she lashed out at him.

It was Dartan’s voice so close to her ear that brought everything rushing back into Amaya’s brain and she froze. Not only was it his voice right there, but also the fact that she could feel him holding her. There was a vibration to it, a soothing warmth, even though there was no physical form to go with it. For some reason it calmed her and reassured her in a way that she did not quite understand. Even that phrase he used to refer to her “little witch” did not offend her, that he did not have the same derision in his voice as he had the night before did help. Because of this, she relaxed in his arms and let him take the lead once more, as she had the previous night.

Slowly Dartan righted them both, keeping his hold gentle yet firm on her so she wouldn’t fall. She was a good foot shorter than him, slight of build, but he could tell she had muscle built from work not just from the gym. He was surprised, and impressed, at this. She had spoken of an expedition, something he would remember to inquire more of as they traversed the realm to get to the Palace. “Are you alright?” He finally asked once he was sure she was steady once more on her feet. He then moved around her to ensure she was unharmed.

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for the upset. I just didn’t remember what happened or where I was when I woke up. I was disoriented.” Amaya felt her cheeks flush hot and could only imagine how red they were as her blue eyes dropped to the ground. Her skin was towards the fair side and she tended to blush rather easily. That she was still dealing with the fact that being in this strange place bound together was her fault to begin with did not help the matter. “I guess I’m causing you more problems again.” There was a resignation creeping in the edges of her voice, coloring it darker and causing it to sound more defeated.

“Aye, but I am getting used to that.” There was no longer chastisement or resentment present in his voice as he responded. “So, we shall not speak on it more. There is no reason to keep going over things. It solves nothing.” While sitting in the dark while she slept, he had decided that if they were to be stuck together then he had to try at least to get along with her. It wasn’t like fighting with her was going to do either of them any good or make either of them any happier. The best they could hope for now was to work together to get to the Palace and talk to Abriella and Cruz, or at least one of their advisors who might have a clue.

"I believe I know the direction of the Capital City. There are no roads or paths where we are, so I'm glad that you're dressed for hiking. If we haven't reached a road by nightfall, I'll see if one of us can summon a demon I know that might help." Dartan looked around the clearing a bi, then back to Amaya.

Unlike the night before, she no longer looked defiant and bold, the spirited glint was gone from her eyes. Her shoulders were slumped, head down, and she overall looked defeated. He was sure he had a part in that. Putting fingers under her chin he tipped her head back to look at him. "This is not the time for regrets. When we get to the castle, okay?" She nodded weakly. For a reason he didn't know, he gently tucked a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear. "Let's get started. There is hopefully a road near so we can get you some food." While he still did not hunger, it had been at least twelve hours since they arrived in Imperium, he estimated, and she would need food and hydration. If you added in the walking that they were going to have to do to get anywhere, it added onto the need to make sure that he found a way for her to be able to eat. He might not be happy to be stuck with her, but starvation seemed a rather sever punishment for that.

Amaya nodded and walked behind him when Dartan turned to walk into the forest. She had decided that saying nothing might be the better option at the moment. He was being nice, and she didn't want to ruin that. She was tired and her body ached in several places from the way she had been positioned the night before. There was not enough energy left in her to argue, plus staying on the good side of the person who knew the land they were in seamed smartest.

It was quickly apparent that Amaya's height was going to be a serious disadvantage to her. Besides taking longer strides, Dartan was able to clear obstacles on the forest floor easier. This often left her struggling to keep up with him. A few times he barked at her for it, but later inextricably apologized. She was trying, and maybe he was realizing that somewhere along the way.

By the time that the sun was at the midway point, they had to take two breaks. Amaya hadn't eaten since the previous day's lunch and her energy stores were low, but she didn’t say anything to him about it. He already hated her, she didn’t want to add whining to the list of reasons for him to. Sheer willpower and stubbornness, and a healthy fear of whatever beasts lurked out of sight in the underbrush kept her moving behind him and trying to go over and/or around anything that was in their path. It always seemed to take her longer and whe was mentally berating herself for it.

Dartan, for his part, was trying to go slow enough for her to keep up but not lose his patience with Amaya. It was not her fault she was short or that he had the unexplained ability to go without food or rest. Then there was the fact that although she was dressed for hiking, he was in a suit; yet he was faring far better than she. Making mention of having to make accommodations for her would do nothing. She already knew how he felt, he had not held back the night before and little had changed since then. Although, during the darkness, he had come to realize that blaming her was a fruitless endeavor and would just frustrate him more and make things more hostile. He had made many mistakes as a young warlock and it was hard to blame her too much as a mere human for having made one.

As they were making their way through the forest, Dartan was beginning to plan who he would talk to once they reached the Palace of Imperium. He did have a few contacts in Imperium that he was on a rather friendly basis with, and he hoped they could get him in with the Queen or someone else that had the power to help fix things. Two of them were both close with her, and he had a human with him, so hopefully they could be swayed to set any previous grievances that he was unaware of aside and at least help the human, which would in turn help him..

It was because of the distraction of his thoughts that Dartan made a serious mistake. He stopped paying attention to how far behind him Amaya was or even how difficult some of the obstacles might be for her to get around or over. Instead he was going over conversations he would have in his head and trying to decide the best way to explain their situation. How long it was in the day was even escaping him as played things over within his mind and corrected things he didn’t want to say or thought he could put better.

“Dartan, my legs are short, can you wait up?” Amaya called while trying to climb over two fallen logs that Dartan had hopped over like someone skilled at parkour. She was at least a foot shorter than him and although her Palladium boots had good traction, she was having such a harder time that more thna once she’d almost broken down in tears. The fact that there were fat bright purple mushrooms growing off of the wood did not help. They kept breaking off and making the bark slick. More than once she’d almost fallen because of it.

By the time she had cleared the logs, she could no longer see the tall spectre anywhere around her. “Dartan? Dartan!” Her calls were now more urgent as she was lost completely. She knew the general direction he’d been headed so continued to go in that way, calling for him and fighting back a rising terror that she was now alone and possibly would be from now on. Maybe he head lost her on purpose? Maybe this was his plan going through the dense forest?

No matter how tired her legs or arms grew from walking and clearing obstacles, she continued moving. She was starting to feel disoriented and her vision seemed to swim, but hadn’t stopped calling for Dartan, hoping that he would hear her or had noticed she was missing and was looking for her. Several obstacles with those damned mushrooms had left her arms scratched and bleeding, smears of purple mushroom covering her arms and most of her clothing as well. Her head throbbed and her eyes blurred, but she kept pushing on, now openly crying.

Then at the top of one more stack of fallen logs, she punctured the palm of her hand on a small piece of bark that had been sticking up which was hidden by those same purple mushrooms she’d been dealing with all day. As she pulled her hand up to look at it, she noticed it was fuzzy and out of focus. The world seemed to be moving around her, but she was sitting still. Whether it was exhaustion, low blood sugar, or something else affecting her, she wasn’t sure. However, the ground seemed a lot farther from her than it had been as she was climbing up. Fear began to grip her but she was so disoriented and her body was ceasing to respond.

A moment later, her limp body slid off of the logs and slammed into the ground, her head bouncing off of the dirt with a soft thud. She didn’t move. She didn’t make a sound. Once might have thought her dead had it not been for the flight rising and falling of her chest. Nothing else on her moved.

A few minutes after she had fallen, there was a rustling in the foliage at her feet. A little head popped out. It looked like a squirrel head with large mouse ears. As the rest of the body came out, it appeared a rabbit body and squirrel tail. It sniffed her, and then slowly made its way around her. No bigger than a softball, it was certainly no match for her, and seemed to understand that. After ensuring that she was of no threat, it made some soft chirping noises and twenty more of the little creatures came out of hiding to cover her body, till she just looked like she was wearing a blanket of the small beings.

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purgetrooperfox · 1 year

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28 for the babygirls of your choice <3 -Lo

softer world prompt list

I miss doing nothing with you (I miss not having to pretend to like your family)

+ Nocte & Saleese (@babygirl-leon-kennedy) || Western AU

Cradled between Nocte’s hands, a mug of stale coffee goes cool despite the heat hanging heavy and oppressive in the air. Every summer, he hopes the ungodly temperatures of years past won’t return, and every summer, his hopes are dashed. The only mercy is that the sun has long since set and the cover of darkness promises a brief reprieve.

More oppressive than even the heat is the silence.

He volunteered for the night watch so he and Saleese could talk without her crew lingering uncomfortably close, but it’s proving difficult. Their split was on bad terms, all flaring tempers and hurt feelings. They both said things they didn’t mean, lashing out, and then life just carried on. The longer they went without talking or writing, the harder it got to break the quiet.

It’s more than a need to mend bridges, now. For Saleese to swallow her pride and contact him, not to catch up or reconnect but to ask for help… her situation would have to be bad. Life-threatening bad.

From his limited exposure to the gang she’s saddled herself with, he can’t say he’s surprised. Greed has a fire lit under them for the time being, but that won’t last, and when it dies, they’ll turn inward. Nocte would bet his life’s savings on it. Meager as those may be.

The pressure doesn’t make it any easier to say what’s needed. He needs to apologize. He needs to explain why he couldn’t, back then. He needs to offer and ask for forgiveness. He needs to make it clear that he’ll burn this entire camp to the ground if they hurt her.

But it all dies in his throat and turns to ash in his mouth.

Saleese’s focus is presumably on the block of wood she’s slowly whittling into a stake, likely more for the comfort of repetitive motion than any real need. She isn’t quite ignoring him, but she isn’t paying him any mind, either. It’s all a hair’s breadth from familiar.

“D’you remember when we were kids,” Nocte starts before he can think himself out of it, “and Old Man Abernathy’s hound got loose?”

Across the fire, Saleese snorts something that lands between a surprised exclamation and a laugh. “Which time?”

“The time he sent us looking for him and we got lost overnight."

"Oh, hell, and we spent an hour trying to start a fire with wet tinder?"

A smile pulls at Nocte's lips, despite everything. "You were convinced we'd never find our way back. I don't think I ever got all the sand and dirt washed out of my clothes."

They slept huddled together on the ground, tucked in behind a cropping of rocks and bushes. It wasn't late enough in the year for the night to be too cold, but they slept hungry and woke in foul moods. His brother used to spout nonsense phrases about being hungry enough to eat a horse and chase the jockey – Nocte found out what that meant, that morning.

All they had the energy to do was walk and bicker.

It's a small wonder they managed to make it back to town at all. Needless to say, their families were worried sick. He can't speak for Saleese, but once Nocte's brothers got over the shock, they firmly vowed never to let him live it down. They also taught him how to start a proper fire before letting him do so much as shower.

The cherry on top of the whole shit sundae was that it turned out, the damn dog was waiting at Abernathy's front door for breakfast first thing in the morning.

It was beyond ridiculous, start to finish. Abernathy was a mean old man with no fondness for children, probably looking more to get the pair of them out of the streets than to find his dog.

It was uncomfortable and disconcerting at best, to feel so lost in the dark.

And it was a bonding experience. He and Saleese don't talk about the fear or the way they clung to each other in their sleep, but it brought them closer. They were friends before, but there was trust afterward, and they only got closer over the years.

Until it fell apart.

Shaking his head, Nocte finally looks back up and sees the same wistful nostalgia he's feeling reflected on Saleese's face. The grief tangled in it doesn't make sense. So he doesn't dwell on it.

"I'm glad you got ahold of me," comes out before he can think twice. Honesty at its most raw bleeds into his voice, and he hears it, and he does nothing to cover it. "Not to say it outright, but I've, ah– well. I missed you."

To call Saleese soft in any capacity would firstly, piss her off, and secondly, be a gross misrepresentation. She's a great many things – and really, Nocte loves her like no other for it – but soft is not one of them. So, she doesn't soften for him, but she warms. It's in the smile that crinkles more around her eyes than her mouth and the way her posture relaxes.

A reception to vulnerability, maybe. More likely, a recognition of herself. It’s something they never really talk about – their history and those similarities. She's Nocte's closest friend, closer than family sometimes, and they don't talk about that either.

"I missed you, too," she says, despite it all. "It used to be so easy to just do nothing."

Nocte narrowly suppresses a scoff. "Back when our families played nice and we could just run wild."

"They were different times." The reflection of flame bounces off the depths of Saleese's eyes.

"They don’t have to be all that different," Nocte tries. Gods does he try, through the weight of decades past, conflicts deep, and old promises of forever. "I'll stay as long as you need me."

She hesitates, but Nocte can hardly blame her. He'd do the same. They're opposite sides of the same coin, after all.

"Alright," Saleese concedes, faster than she would for anyone else. "Stay, until you need to go."

Stay, because I need someone in my corner.

Stay, because I don't trust my inner circle.

Stay, because I miss you too and I know you'll do right by me.

Those words go unspoken, but Nocte hears them all the same.

This new gang of Saleese’s is a powder keg of ulterior motives and lies and deceit, liable to blow at any shadow of a spark. It looks on the surface like she’s wilfully overstaying her welcome when she should just cut and run – but then, few things as simple as that. He’ll stay until she’s safe, and they both know it.

That’s the promise they made as kids and it’s the one they’ll die before breaking.

#leo.writes #leocs #clone medic nocte #others' ocs #saleese jeekkunass #western au go BRRRR #there's something about taking nocte out of star wars but making him someone who goes so exclusively by a nickname #that almost no one knows his government name #asks answered #atama 'nocte' te rangi

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wolverinedoctorwho · 11 months

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Alright I need to ramble about TMA again doing it behind a read more this time. Spoilers for halfway thru season 3 (last episode heard before writing this was Dead Woman Walking)

I mean, fuck

I can't stop thinking about how horrifying Jon's powers are when you really think about them. Being able to make anyone answer any question you ask?? Never again being able to ask anyone anything without worrying if they're not answering of their own free will? And the other side, never being sure if you're answering a friend's simple question because you want to or because you HAVE to?

Like, you can't even ask a friend how their day went without both of you worrying if their answer is consensual??

I can't believe Jon didn't think to ask Elias how to control his powers, even if he might not have gotten an answer, because that would have been my first concern. I have to believe there's a narrative reason for it

That whole conversation with Jude where every time Jon asks a simple question she threatens him?? Because from her perspective he's trying to compel her?? And he doesn't say 'i don't know what you're talking about, i don't know what that is or how to control it or if I'm doing it on purpose'? I would be phrasing everything differently to try to avoid asking questions (though maybe he can't. Maybe that's part of the curse.)

And fuck, i totally understand the compulsion to read the statements, not just because it fits the framing device of the story, but because I'VE felt compelled to listen to this podcast since I started. I had to stop myself last night from listening to more otherwise I would have been up till 4am finishing the season, and right now I'm like. SHAKING from lack of exposure. I HAVE to know what happens next. And I'm sure I'm not the only audience member to experience this. In a way I'm glad I'm listening to this years down the line, when it's all said and done, because I don't know how only getting one episode a week would have sat with me.

Also, having skimmed just a little too much of the tvtropes page, it amazes me that Jon's feelings and reactions aren't mentioned anywhere. He's fucking terrified!! By Jude, and by Michael Crewe, and by Daisy. He gets hurt and threatened by two avatars and a mad cop in the span of a few...hours?? Days?? The timeline isn't clear to me. He's fucking sobbing!! Hell even back in season one he was going thru it every week!

I'm glad he has The Admiral and Georgie to talk to, I'm glad he has someone to give him the kindness and sympathy he needs, and though I doubt he'll get it I hope he gets a little time to talk things out with Tim and Martin because like. MAN.

Coming back to the compelling thing again. It completely reframes the whole series. How long has he had this power? Did it only start recently, when the sound effect for it did? Has he been unknowingly using this power since day one? How many of the live reports were given willingly? None of them? Just the first few?

I do like how the whole 'when i read the statements I feel their fear' thing contributes to the framing device as well, giving a narrative reason for the way Jon reads the statements with distinct voices and emotions instead of just leaving it as 'well the podcast would be boring otherwise, and maybe Jon is just Extra like that'. Does give me some questions as to why MARTIN seems to be affected by this when he reads his statements, almost like he's taking on a bit of The Archivist's powers. Melanie too I guess, though maybe to a lesser extent? For her I assumed it was just her usual narrative talent as a YouTuber.

I can't wait for the QnA at the end of this season!!!!!!

#ramble tag: are you there god its me lily #the magnus archives #eh fuck it. reblog if you want

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danafinwefeaelenionfeanorian · 1 year

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Aravel Feanorian Character Sheet

Basics

Ataresse: Lilto-Man who dances; given to him when Nanwe saw how he shined when dancing

Amilesse: Lelyano-Man who travels; given to him due to his aptitude for travel, something he enjoys and loves

Epesse: Rano-Wandering man; given to him when Turca and Ambarussa took Tauriel and Aravel hunting, Aravel had wandered off in search of a particular flower called alstroemeria, the same flower Turca found when he too wandered off during a midnight hike

Nicknames: Ara

Born: 3020 TA

Age: 122

Social class: Quite poor before being adopted, wealthy after being adopted

Appearance

Height: 6’0

Build: Lean, well muscled,

Ethnicity: Noldorin

Hair colour: Wine red

Hairstyle: Usually loose, when fighting or working in the smithy it’s braided back

Eye colour: Green

Skin: Tanned

Hands: Strong hands from working in the smithy, nimble fingers

Scars: Several on his hands from when he practised wielding knives, one on his arm from when he was shot with an arrow

Types of clothes: Pants, shirts, leather armour,

How do they wear clothes: Put together on occasion, usually mismatched or dishevelled

Mannerisms: Like Tauriel he makes an "ahhh' face when running late, when surprised he makes the classic surprised face, and has the funniest angry face

Important/ usual accessories: Was given a ring made by Dana when he was 50, he wore it until it snagged on a knife and he nearly cut off his finger, since then he wears it on a chain and on special occasions wears it on his finger

About

Occupation: Captain of the guard in the greenwood, a smith, a lord in Valinor, Hunter of Orome

Love interest(s): Alaswen

Likes: Travelling, hunting, riding horses, his adopted family,

Dislikes: Long meetings, pricks who disrespect his adopted mother, people who take pride in hurting his sister,

Fears: People disliking him in the greenwood because of his hair colour, giant spiders, Dana leaving him on his own, Dana leaving him in general

Favourite colour: Green because it reminds him of Cuivienen and what his life was like before Dana,

Literature: Adventure, romance, any of Dana's works

Favoured expletives: Fuck, bloody hell, Varda, Valar's balls

Hobbies: Riding, hiking, reading, archery, botany

Favourite childhood memory: When Dana gave him a new life and they began their adventures together. His second is when he met Tauriel for the first time. His third is when Tauriel accepted him as kin and began to warm up to him.

Least favourite childhood memory: When he was told his parents died because of his hair colour. A close second was when Tauriel rejected him as kin. The last was when he was labelled an outcast after his parents died.

Personality

Personal triggers: People refusing to accept him into their social circles.

Words or phrases they overuse: Bloody hell, that was brilliant,

What makes them laugh out loud: Others laughing, people falling on their ass

How do they display affection: Lots of hugs, giving of gifts, large deeds personalized to the person,

Greatest fear: People he loves leaving and not returning/ dying,

If they could change something about themselves, what would it be: His red hair, he wants to be viewed as someone who is not a bad omen.

Song: Somebody by Daughtry

Smell: Fresh spit wood, clear air, fresh moss

Extra Notes

-Like his adopted sister he loves the forest and finding new places to explore.

Family Members and relationship with each:

Danafinwe-Adopted Mother-Loves his adopted mother. They have a deep love for each other. She found him at a time of her life when she found her daughter leaving for her own adventure. Aravel immediately knew Dana was the one who could protect him. He knew she understood him. He knows he can always count on her.

Tyelprinquar-Cousin-They met when Dana walked into the family manor. They quickly decided they liked each other. In the beginning, they could be found going on long walks through Tirion. Then they started going to the family smithy and Aravel showed his worth. Much to Tyelpes delight.

Curufinwe-Uncle-When Aravel met Curvo the elder elf stood there and stared. He wasn't sure of what he was seeing. Then Aravel introduced himself. At their first meeting, Aravel mentioned he wanted to learn more about the world of smithing in Valinor. Curvo grinned and wrapped his nephew in a hug.

Morifinwe-Uncle-Mori like Curvo, Nerdanel, Tyelpe, Kana and Nelyo, he meets Aravel when Dana walked into the family manor for the first time in four ages. Initially, he wasn't sure what to make of Aravel. Then he got to know the shorter elf. Dana made sure both her children were able to share the interests of all her brothers. Mori was no exception. Dana taught Aravel how to knit, just like how Mori taught her. And that is how Aravel gets to know his uncle Morifinwe.

Nerdanel-Grandmother-Nerdanel immediately knew who Aravel was to Dana. She knew. Like her husband she was overjoyed. She let her children socialize with the young elf before she took her turn. When her turn came she hugged him for nearly ten minutes. Then she thanked him for keeping her daughter company while her daughter and beloved were overseas. The grandmother and grandson sat down and Aravel reveals what his life was like before Dana. In the end, he tells Nerdanel that it was Dana who saved him not the other way around. Nerdanel then hugs her grandson once more.

Tauriel-Adopted Sister-When he first met Tauriel she was not welcoming. She did not like the idea of being replaced. Over time and two long conversations with her grandmother and Dana, she began to accept Aravel as her brother. They soon became inseparable. Much like her relationship with Legolas.

Nelyafinwe-Uncle-Aravel met Nelyo when he met his other new relatives. But they really got to know one another when Aravel found the giant elf standing by a window overlooking the Pelori mountains. Aravel took his time recounting the tale Dana told him. The uncle and Nephew talked until the sun set and Tauriel came looking for them. After that talk, Aravel knew he had someone to talk to if he ever needed someone other than Dana.

Kanafinwe-Uncle-Like Dana Aravel held a small grievance with the older elf. Over time the anger melted away. Once the anger was all but gone Aravel took his time getting to know Kana. They started small. Grabbing honey cakes and walking through the market, or riding horses. Then Aravel asked Kana to sing. So Kana does. Aravel folds and they hug. Then they begin talking. After that day they have a deeper understanding of one another.

Ambarusa-Uncles-When Ambarussa met Aravel they immediately love the idea of having another nephew. Then Telvo learned Aravel was into botany. Together they learn more on each hunting trip they take.

Turcafinwe-Uncle-Like Turca Aravel strives to become a hunter of the great vala Orome. Turca takes a keen interest in the young elf and helps him build a personal relationship with the vala.

Nanwe-Adopted Father-When Nanwe met Aravel he immediately knew who he was. Nanwe was over the moon. He'd always wanted a son and daughter, and now he has one.

Finwe Clan-Aravel was well received by the whole family. After Tauriel they knew Dana was bound to end up adopting another child.

Feanaro-Grandfather-Like his first meeting with Tauriel, he was overjoyed and so enthusiastic. He enjoys calling Aravel his grandson. Aravel and Feanaro met hours after Feanaro met Tauriel, Dana decided it would be best for her father not to be bombarded with grandchildren and wanted her children to have personal time with their grandfather. Afterwards, Tauriel joined Aravel and Feanaro for a honeycake. A love they got from their mother.

Friends and relationship with each:

Legolas & Gimli-Friends-Legolas was excited for another elfling to be around. He loved watching Tauriel and he loved watching Aravel. He loved watching them grow. The pair was often seen at the archery range practicing with a bow. Gimli would usually be with the two elves when he could. They enjoyed long walks in the woods and when they could set up targets on trees to test aim. It was usually not Gimli who won. Then they left for Valinor.

Thranduil-Friend-When Aravel arrived in the greenwood the elven king was concerned that Dana was replacing her loss of Tauriel with Aravel. But after a few days, Thranduil caved and began to enjoy having Aravel around. When the duo left for Valinor he was sad to see the young elf go.

Alaswen-Beloved-They met when Aravel joined the hunters of Orome. She was a hunter. A good one at that. Aravel fell first and was often teased by the other hunters. Primarily his uncles Ambarussa and Turca. It was only after a joke got out of hand that Alaswen caught on and realized she returned his feelings. She confessed first. That surprised his uncles. They've been together since.

History/ background:

Before Dana adopted him in Cuivienen Aravel was an outcast being raised by Feaelenion, Dana's namesake and the leader of the Cuivienen elves.

One day while Aravel’s parents were on patrol duty a pack of orcs attacked. His parents took the brunt of the force and died. Feaelenion took Aravel in along with all the other elflings orphaned.

A year and a half later Dana showed up. She fell in love with him and decided to adopt him after she was told he has no family left.

Over 118 years, Dana and Aravel travelled middle earth. From east to west. North to south. They travelled all over middle earth. They met with men, elves and dwarves. Travelling was their thing.

Then finally in the year 120 of the Fourth age Dana and Aravel left middle earth in the company of Legolas Thranduilion and Gimli Glionson.

#danafinwe feaelenion feanorian #tauriel feanorian #nanwe #Aravel Feanorian #thranduil #legolas #gimli #dana

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