#SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT NEW WORLD ORDER AND TRYING TO CONTROL THE WORLD AND STOP FUCKING PROJECTING

[snekdood]

ive literally never understood antisemitism and i dont think I ever will. literally 0 basis for any of the conspiracy theories. its always just projection from christians.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quote and character request. Levi Ackerman. "You don't have to love everything about me; that means you're actually looking at me"

Beneath the Armor

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: You searches everywhere for Levi Ackerman. But when you finally find him, he acts cold as eyes, doesn't even want to talk to you. Word after word his true intentions reveal...

Warnings: Levi is very self conscious in this fic due to how the war left him - if that's too negative for you or simly not your style keep on scrolling. Hurt to comfort, fluff fluff fluff

The room is tense, thick with the lingering echoes of your argument. You can’t believe it. You traveled for what felt like ages, turned the whole planet upside down in order to finally see that man again. And him? He avoids you at all cost, ignores you while you’re standing right in front of him.

You clench your fist, gleaming eyes staring at him through the thick silence. All of that, after you spent one night together, after you finally started trusted another human being fully.

The air feels heavy, each of you standing on opposite sides of a dark hallway that only seems to widen with every passing second.

Levi’s clenches his jaw, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes, normally so calculating and composed, flash with a rare anger. It’s not often that you two fight like this. But when you do, it feels like the world is tilting off its axis. You’re both too used to being strong, too used to being in control. And now, that strength is clashing, neither of you willing to yield.

Can’t you understand that he did all of this to protect you?

“You don’t get it,” you spit at him, voice trembling with frustration.

“You shut me out, Levi. You push me away every time I try to get close. And that after I searched the whole fucking world for you.”

He doesn’t immediately respond, his silence only adding to the tension. When he finally speaks up, his voice is low, almost dangerous, like the calm before a storm.

“And maybe you’re better off that way. Maybe it’s easier if you don’t get too close.”

The words sting like a flat-palmed slap, causing your heart to tighten in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to push you away on purpose, as if he’s testing to see how far he can go before you finally give up. But you’re not ready to let him off that easily. Not when you spent weeks trying to find him over here.

“Why?” you demand, taking a step closer, your voice rising with emotion.

“Why do you keep pushing me away? What are you so afraid of?”

Levi’s eyes flash again, but this time, there’s something else there - something darker, more vulnerable. He turns away from you, as if he can’t bear to face you head-on, his shoulders tense and rigid.

“I’m not afraid,” he mutters, but there’s a crack in his voice that betrays him.

“Then what is it?” you press out, not willing to let this go.

“Why do you keep trying to make me hate you? Why are you running away from me?”

He spins back to face you, his expression torn between anger and something else, something raw, something painful.

“Because if you don’t hate me, you’ll see me for what I really am,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“And I don’t know if I can handle that.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of his confession. Who he really is? You eye him up and down, take in his blind eye, his missing fingers, his overall worn-out figure. Is he really talking about how this war changed his appearance? No, he can’t believe you’re that superficial, right? Did he really push you away because he thought you’d stop loving him now? For a moment, you’re both silent.

“You believe I don’t love you anymore”, you finally speak up.

“I can’t believe you think that-“

“You don’t have to love everything about me,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a softness to his tone now, a tenderness that wasn’t there before as well as a new-found fragility. His hand reaches out, hesitant at first, before resting on your arm.

“That means you’re actually looking at me. Seeing me for who I really am. But I understand that…You might not want me anymore.”

You feel like giggling and breaking down at the same time. Why would that man ever think that he isn’t good enough for you anymore, that you’d throw him away like trash? But he’s letting his guard down, exposing a side of himself that he rarely shows, a side that’s scared and unsure, but also hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you’ll see him and still choose to stay.

“I’m not perfect,” he continues, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I’ve done things… things I’m not proud of. I look even worse than I did back then. And I don’t expect you to love me. I just want you to know that I’m trying. Trying to be better, trying to be the man I was before, for you. I just…can’t change that shitty body.”

His hand moves from your arm to your cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. But still, he doesn’t dare to look you in the eyes, his voice still muted and covered in agony.

Is this the reason why he never tried to reach you, never tried to find you? Because he thought you’d never look at him again the way you did before all of this? Humanity’s strongest losing his whole confidence over something so minor, something that actually makes you admire him even more.

His thumb brushes over your skin, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“I want you to stay. But if you can’t love me like that, I’ll leave right away” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

His words hang between you, raw and unfiltered. That lack of self-esteem, all the horrible things he had to endure while you were gone. What did he see? What did he feel? With each passing minute, your heart swells up more and more. For that man who risked everything including his precious life for a world you’d be safe in. For that man who know stands in front of you and thinks he isn’t good enough for you.

“I see you, Levi,” you say softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions.

“I see you, and I’m not going anywhere. Those scars,”

Gently, you allow your finger to wander over the faint scar that covers the skin around his blinded eye.

“Those hands that hold my entire world,”

You take his hand in yours tenderly.

“Do you really think I’ll leave you over something like this when I searched the world upside down just to see you again?”

A flicker of relief passes through his eyes, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Levi allows himself to hope. And for the first time since he can think, he’s glad to see your tears paired with that loving look in your eyes. Will you really…stay with him?

“Please don’t push me away. I still need you in my life”, you mutter before lunging yourself at him.

Like countless times before, you rest your head against his shoulder, wrap your arms around him in fear that you’ll lose him any given minute. That precious but stoic man who drove you insane more than once, that man who never failed to argue with you.

That man, humanity’s strongest. The love of your life.

“Fine, brat”, he grumbles before stroking through your hair.

“But I’ll leave if you make fun of me.”

“I’ll always make fun of you half-pint.”

Tags:

@lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation @istglevi-gotmesimping

[absurdthirst]

Dominate Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.3k

Warnings: Sex club, sex work, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, spanking, slapping, tit play, anal plugs, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex (male receiving) vaginal sex, bombings, dry humping, angst, violence, beating a man to death, feelings

Comments: When the club Joel frequents to exert some semblance of control over his QZ life is bombed, he's there with you. His favorite toy. Dragging you to safety, he brings you along as he leaves Boston and allows himself to admit the truth to himself. He's in love with you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The bass thumps, reminding Joel of a time that only lives in his memory now. The music doesn’t come from speakers like it would’ve during his nights out to clubs during the 80s. No lights flashing or disco balls spinning. No, the music is from a live band. A sorry reminder of a time gone by, a way to escape the harsh reality outside as the band plays songs from before the world went to shit. It’s not what Joel is here for. He makes his way through the crowd, an eclectic mixture of occupants of the Boston QZ, towards the door that leads to an area very few know about. Bootleg moonshine and whiskey make the floor sticky, booze he’s played a part in smuggling into the QZ, and he grimaces as his boots grow tacky. He cleaned them earlier alongside the hidden weapons he keeps under his floorboards. He approaches the stairway, glancing behind him before he makes his way down the stairs, sighing in appreciation of the reprieve to his eardrums. When he opens the door, he is greeted by a large security guard holding a rifle and a woman sitting at a desk; her dress is tight but conservative, well, conservative for the place she works. “Welcome back, sir.” She greets him, and he nods, a man of few words, when he enters this place.

“She’s ready for you.” The woman informs him, the security guard shifting from one foot to the other while he eyes Joel. He doesn’t back down, staring at the guard until the woman stands and gestures for him to follow. Joel follows her, his eyes dipping down to her ass as she walks, but he isn’t interested in fucking her. No, he has other plans. “Enjoy.” The woman says when she stands outside the assigned room, a smirk on her face as she hands Joel a foil packet. Condoms, as it turns out, were as necessary as bullets in this new world. The last thing people need during an apocalyptic world is a surprise pregnancy. Too busy trying to survive, yet not too busy to get lost in the sensations of sex. He shoves the packet into his pocket, turning to see the woman making her way back down the hall, then he turns towards the door. With an exhale, he opens it to find what he came here for: you.

You are kneeling on the bed, naked, and your head tilted down to avoid his eyes as he enters the dimly lit room. He shuts the door behind him, making sure it is loud enough to make you jolt, and he runs his fingers along the things he requested be waiting for him. The paddle, the whip, the clamps, and the handcuffs. All part of his arsenal. He is pleased that you have them waiting for him, lube sitting on the side, and he smirks, knowing you followed his orders from his last visit. “You listened to me. Good girl.” He finally speaks after several moments, and you remain silent, drawing a pleased hum from his lips. Joel pulls his shirt over his head, wearing a t-shirt today, and drops it to the floor, leaving him in his jeans and boots. He walks over to the bed, admiring your tits and how your hands are clasped together in front of you, resting in your lap. You are a pretty picture, and he desperately wants to burn this image into his brain to use later when he is not in this room with you. “Tell me your safe word, darlin’ girl.” He orders, reaching out to grip your chin, bringing your gaze to his. Christ, you have such pretty eyes. You don’t respond and he grunts, gripping your chin a little tighter. “You can speak.” He tuts and you blink a couple of times before responding with, “my safe word is raspberry, sir.” Joel hums, pleased with your answer, and his hand lowers to grip your neck. Your neck is so delicate; he could easily snap it. Violence has entrapped his entire being, forcing him to do things he never imagined he could bring himself to do. He has survived for this long, hardened by this harsh reality, but here, in this room, he allows himself to release the monster inside of him. Discipline rules the real monster; if he allows it small moments of release, he can control it better. He squeezes your neck tighter, and a small moan bubbles up from your lips. Joel chuckles, “such a dirty girl, ain’t ya? You get yourself ready for me?” He asks, eager to get this show on the road, he has a shipment coming in tonight from Bill, and he has to be there. “Yes, sir, I prepped myself when I got your message that you were coming.” You answer, and Joel smirks, pleased to hear you got his message through the grapevine that has curled itself around the QZ now that his Nokia is a relic. “Get on your knees and show me.” He orders, and he lets go of your throat. You obey, quickly shifting on the bed to turn around and kneeling on your hands and knees, arching your back to display your ass to his hungry eyes. Joel bites his lip, dark eyes admiring your ass, and he grabs your ass cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them to reveal the plug you nestled into your puckered hole before he arrived. The metal winks under the dim lighting, and his cock stirs to life in his jeans. “Fuck, ain’t that a pretty sight?” He murmurs to himself.

One hand lets go of your cheek, and he pushes against the plug, enjoying how you whimper in response, back arching a little more. “Oh, you like that?” He asks, and you bite your lip, forcing yourself to remain quiet until he permits you. “Answer me.” He growls, wasting no time bringing his hand down to smack your ass cheek, hard and quick. Enough to make you gasp and blurt out your answer, “yes, sir. I- I love it.” He enjoys your answer, knowing he hasn’t even started. He grips the plug, twists it, and smirks when you moan softly. “You want me to fuck this little hole?” He questions, and you nod, “yes, sir. Fuck, I want that.” Joel smacks your other ass cheek, “you’re a dirty little whore, ain’t ya? Too bad I’m not ready yet. Want to get your little cunt dripping before I decide which hole I want. Maybe your mouth.” He raises his hand to push two fingers into your mouth, and you eagerly suck on the digits. Tasting his salty sweat and the lingering bitterness of gun residue that seems to be embedded into his skin. He withdraws his fingers, bringing his hand down to cup your dripping cunt, “or should I fuck your tight little pussy?” He hums, and you whimper when his fingers brush your clit. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Or does my little slut want me to fuck her ass?” He murmurs, circling the puckered hole, barely nudging the plug, but it’s enough to make you whine softly. “I think I want all three.” He decides, making you nod eagerly. “Yes, sir, fuck me however you want. Wherever you want.” You tell him breathlessly, and he chuckles, “so fucking desperate.”

You are a little desperate. Despite the demeaning, harsh way Joel Miller can fuck, he’s not abusive. He doesn’t beat you while he fucks you. He doesn’t fuck you without prepping your holes for his thick cock. You are treated better than some in the club because you’re Joel’s favorite and the owner is scared of him, even more - the other members are scared of him. There’s even a rumor he beat a man to death in the club for abusing the girl he fucked before you showed up, buy he never talks about that with you. Instead of replying, you moan softly when his thick fingers slip down to your clit. 

He groans when he feels how wet you are. This is his escape. The time he allows himself to access that deeper part of him he keeps controlled until the occasion calls for him to be in control. He has to behave in the QZ, not wanting to get kicked out, but that time is coming to an end. Him and Tess are working on getting enough credits together to leave the QZ so he can find Tommy. “Dripping for me. My little whore.” He coos, pushing two thick digits inside of you.

Your back arches and your moan again, the stretch of his finger a burn that you enjoy a lot more than you probably should. There’s something about Joel that you can’t resist, the gruff roughness is tempered by a sadness in his eyes that you want to soothe with kisses. Although you know that those same eyes go flat, hard and it excites you when you see the change. “Your whore.” You echo. “Sir.”

“That’s right.” His twang comes in, and your whimper makes his cock twitch, already hard from just the thought of you as he entered the club. “Such a good little slut, taking all that I give you. You want more thought don’t you? You’re a greedy girl. You want me to add another finger?” He asks as he does that, stretching you out for his cock.

“Yes sir, fuck.” You gasp out, eyes closing as your hole is stuffed full for the moment. You know that he will fill you even more. The thick cock that you had struggled to take when he first came to you is girthy and long, a combination that leaves you trying to walk on shaky legs when he’s done. “Want everything you want to give me.”

Joel groans, loving the way you completely submit to him. This is the only time he’s completely in control. He can control every aspect of this part of his life. He works his fingers deeper inside of you with a groan, “always so wet for me. What gets you wet like this sweetheart? Thinkin’ of Daddy’s cock?” He coos, slapping your ass with his free hand.

You shiver, not really caring for the Daddy term, but he obviously likes it. Fulfilling some fantasy of his as you whine at the sting of his hand. “Yes, sir.” You gasp out. “Always want Daddy’s cock.” You admit shamelessly. In here, you are exactly what Joel wants and needs and he rewards you so beautifully for it.

He likes that you indulge him every time he comes into this room. You have a safe word but you’ve never used it. He groans as your walls pulse around his fingers and he withdraws his digits, admiring the way your hole flutters at the sudden absence. “That’s it, baby. You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna love it.” He promises, working on his belt to pull his cock out. “Want you to take my cock down your throat like only you do.” He groans, squeezing his cock as he pulls it out.

The good thing about Joel is that he regularly showers. He groans as he shuffles forward, your mouth obediently opening and your tongue out to wait for his cock. His hand pumps himself and then he guides the head to smear around your lips, teasing you with the length before he pushes into your mouth with a sharp snap of his hips, gagging you.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t choke. You gotta take it all. Be a good girl.” He demands, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck to keep you still so he can rock his cock deep down your throat. You’re sputtering around him and he loves the way your split dribbles onto the sheets. “Being such a good little slut for daddy.” He coos, closing his eyes as he loses himself in this, in you.

His thrusts are harsh and you know you will have to drink some of the tea that is made from the dandelions and tree bark to soothe it. Your jaw will ache when he’s done and you will be so cock drunk you’ll beg for more. Moaning around him, your cunt clenches and you can feel yourself starting to drip.

“Shit. Always so fucking good. Taking it all like a goddamn champ. I don’t wanna cum down your throat tonight, my little cockslut.” He grabs the back of your neck to drag you off of his cock. “Wanna fuck your pussy. Then I’m gonna cum inside of your ass after I stretch it out with my fingers first.” He explains, slapping your cheek.

You love how he is going to wreck you. He’s so greedy when he comes to you, taking everything he can from you and still wanting more. “Yes sir.” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “However you want to cum.” If he cums in your ass, you won’t make him wear the condom. He can fill you up.

Joel manhandles you to turn you around so he can grab your hips, kneeling on the bed to position himself behind you. He grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, swiftly pushing inside of you with a low groan that echoes in the room.

“Shit, Joel.” You moan, loving how your entire body jolts forward from the force of his thrust. Your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you, grounding you in the moment.

He keeps your hips tilted up as you fall forward, trying to grind his cock impossibly deeper inside of you. It’s incredible how tight you are around him and it makes him clench his jaw so he doesn’t blow his load too damn too. “Fuck baby. Feel so fucking - like a goddamn vice. How you keep this pussy so tight when I’m fucking you more often?”

You choke out a moan. “Cumming.” You gasp, even though the truth is that you are tight because he’s so fucking thick. “You make me cum all the time.”

He chuckles, “wanna make sure you keep letting me use those tight little holes.” He says, smacking your ass with his palm. “Love being inside this pussy. Makes me forget about all - shit - all about how fucked the world is now.” He admits, pushing his hips against your ass and you cry out, making him smirk. “Take it all. Whatever I give you. Want you to take every fucking inch of this big dick. Tell me it’s big.”

“Fuck, it’s so big, sir.” Your eyes roll back when that big dick hits deep, just to show you what he can do. “Best cock I’ve ever had in my tight little pussy.” You confess. “Best cock ever.”

Your confession has him twitching inside of you, and he groans your name when he thrusts a little harder, making you gasp and fall forward until your cheek rests on the sheets. “That’s right. Best cock ever. Wanna - fuck - wanna live in this cunt. Never leave. Fill you up over and over again and watch it drip out. You’re - fuck- you’re so fucking tight.” He hisses, sliding his hand down to cup your breast and he slaps it.

You squeal, wanting to promise him the moon. Wanting to promise that he can have whatever he wants if he just fucks you. You know that Joel is different here than outside this room. Out there he wouldn’t even acknowledge you, probably. You’ve never had the guts to approach him when you’ve seen him walk through the streets of the zone. “Fuck, you can.” You promise him. “I’ll stay bent over so you can just fuck me whenever you want.”

“That’s right. You’re my little whore. Gonna keep you full of my cum. Just fuck you whenever I want. Make you scream my name so often, you lose your fuckin’ voice. Gonna make you mine. Claim this cunt as my own.” He growls, sliding his hand up to twist the plug you have nestled in your ass.

The low moan is wanton, needy. Loving the idea and wishing that could happen. You’re already his little whore, but you would be willing to let him fuck you hoarse. He sometimes does this anyway. “Fuck, I wish you would.”

“Gonna do it.” He promises in the moment, pushing deep to press against your cervix and he works the plug out of you. “I know you do. You want this dick all the fuckin’ time. Like the slut you are.” He spits on his fingers, pushing one then two into your ass, working your tight hole open for his cock. “Gonna make sure you only feel pleasure…unless you want some pain.”

“Spank me.” You gasp out. Knowing that Joel likes to spank you. Likes to feel the welts on your skin and know it’s from pleasure and not brutal pain. You’ve seen the busted knuckles, the broken hands. Those days are the ones he refuses to be rough. Almost scared of losing control but you know he never would hurt you. Not like that. He likes your screams to be hoarse with pleasure. “Please spank me, daddy.”

He can’t fucking deny you when you beg like that. He hisses, bringing his other hand down on your ass with a dark chuckle, his other hand scissoring his fingers inside of your ass to work you open. “Want you to cum like this.” He demands, “want you to cum for daddy like a good girl.”

It’s not hard to do when his cock pushes deep and punches against those spots that make your toes curl. Combined with the sweet sting of his hand and his fingers working your other hole opened, you are moaning as you work yourself closer. “I will, fuck, I will cum for you.” You promise, whining when he pushes a third finger in your ass. “Oh god, Joel.”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Don’t you fucking disappoint, Daddy. You’d better cum right this fucking second.” He demands and your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls as you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, such a good little whore for me. You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you?” He growls, pulling out of your quivering cunt.

“Yes.” You gasp out, hating the loss of his cock and you whimper when he pulls his fingers out of your hole. “Whatever you want. Anything you want. Your whore. Use me, daddy. Please use me.” You babble, desperate to feel him inside you again.

He spreads your cheeks, leaning in to spit on your puckered hole then he spits in his palm and grips his cock, mixing his saliva with your cum as he notches himself at your ass to push inside of you. “Take it all.” He demands as he pushes into you.

Your back bows under the pressure from the pinch of pain. The lack of lube is a common issue but his spit helps. Thank god he had fingered you. “Joel!” You cry out, dropping down to your elbows and pushing back. Despite the pain, maybe because of it, you want more. You want to see him completely unhinged as you watch his reflection in the mirror.

He growls as you take all of him like the good slut you are. He clenches his jaw and smacks your ass, “you’re a good little whore. So cock hungry, aren’t you?” He mocks you, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder. He’s not allowed to bite you considering the situation outside the QZ.

"Yessss." You whine softly, gasping when his teeth scrape your skin. You would love for him to bite you, loved the idea of him marking you for a few days until the impression of his teeth faded, but he can't. "Hungry for your cock, only your cock, daddy." You feel him twitch inside you and moan at how it makes your walls of your cunt clench. "Your whore to use."

He growls, "yes. Yes. My whore. My little tight cunt." He hisses when you clench around him and he rocks into you, eyes rolling into the back of his head at how tight your muscles are gripping him.

You hiss when his hips start to snap forward a little harder, his cock drilling into you more aggressively. Every thrust a harsh punch and a low groan from the man behind you. Rocking you forward and you have to push back so he doesn’t push you into the creaking headboard. “T-tight little ass.” You moan out, wishing you could rub your clit. “Finger me.” You beg, “please, fuck I need something inside me.” 

Joel hisses, “such a greedy little whore. Want Daddy’s fingers?” He asks and you nod your head pathetically, a whine escaping your lips. “Fucking needy.” He snorts and slides his hand down until he’s pushing two thick digits inside of you, feeling his cock push against the thin wall between your two holes. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.” He promises and starts to move his hips again.

You groan quietly, loving how full you feel and if it were anyone else other than Joel, you would suggest another person. Joel is possessive while he’s inside you, he would never let another man touch what he considers his. You’re his, and he will do what he wants, even his fingers is an indulgence of your needs. “So good, baby, you take such good care of me.”

He groans, leaning forward to kiss along your neck, “only I can take care of you like this. Only me.” He says despite knowing you have other customers but he likes to imagine you sit and wait for him to show up and treat you like his precious little whore. “Tell me that only I take such good care of you.” He demands, scraping his teeth along your neck, pushing his limit.

You whimper, clenching down around his fingers and cock. “Only you, daddy.” You whine breathlessly. “Only you can take care of me like I need. Like I want. I’m your whore.” You promise, shivering at the scrape of his teeth and wanting more. “Joel…”

He won’t risk you by biting you, not knowing what shit he’s exposed to outside that he could bring back, even if it isn’t the fungus. He curls his fingers and rocks a little faster, “need you to cum for me, baby doll. Need you to soak my fingers then I’ll fill that tight little ass with my cum. Deal?” He asks, panting as his cock twitches inside of you.

“Deal, baby, fuck.” You pant out. Feeling his thrusts start to speed up, pounding himself in and out of your ass as his fingers curl into your cunt. “Joel, fuck baby, harder.” He loves when you want more, but you really do want him to go wild tonight.

How can he deny you when you beg him so sweetly? Everything goes blank in his mind except you. The outbreak. Survival. The things he’s done to stay alive. Even Sarah and her death seem to fade into the background as he pounds into your body, losing himself in the control and the pleasure. “Cum for me.” He grunts, barely hanging on as he twists his wrist to press his thumb to your clit.

Your nerves are alight with pleasure, the pressure built up inside you and curling in your stomach. The added sensation of your clit throws you over the edge and you start to come apart with a loud scream. Unable to contain it as your entire body responds to Joel’s manipulation.

He shudders behind you as you clamp down on his cock and he loves how you soak his fingers. “That’s it baby. That’s - that’s fucking it.” He growls and withdraws his fingers, slick digits gripping your hip as he grunts, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, lifting up onto his aching knees a little higher. “Shit. I’m gonna - gonna fill you up. Beg for it. Beg me for my cum.” He demands breathlessly.

Your eyes cross every time he fucks back into you. Practically lifting you up as he works himself impossibly deep. He’s not wearing a condom so when he cums, you will be dripping his seed. “Fill me up.” You gasp out desperately. “Please, I need- I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it.”

Joel groans, rocking into you again and again until finally, he stills. His hips digging into your ass, his belly that has developed in middle age rests against your skin as he pushes his cock deep. Twitching inside of you, he fills you with rope after rope of sticky cum, a low groan of your name escaping his lips as his fingers dig into your flesh.

This is the only way that Joel will cum inside you. This or your mouth and you love the hot feeling of his seed. Technically you should insist that he use it every time, but you know he’s clean and besides you, Tess is the only person he sleeps with. All your others always use condoms, but you have let Joel cum in your ass since the very beginning.

“Fuck baby.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss along your spine. He nudges your skin and groans as he slowly pulls out of you to watch his cum well up and drip out of your puckered hole. “That’s it, baby. Shit.” He says as he pushes his finger into you to push it back in, knowing you’ll have to deal with it later but he loves seeing it. Reminds him of younger days when he wasn’t worried about the lack of birth control and the death sentence that is pregnancy.

You close your eyes and smile, panting against the cool sheets. You are worn out and feeling the familiar ache that comes with having Joel in your room. “Was it good, daddy?” You coo softly, wanting to make sure that he doesn’t have something else in mind for you. After sessions with him, all you want to do is sleep.

He gently smacks your ass, “fucking perfect as always, sweetheart. Always take me so well. It’s why I always come back to you. Never judgin’ me for what I want.” He admits, shuffling off of the bed to tuck his cock away and grab the credits from his pocket to give you a little extra. He pays at the desk on the way out but he always likes to give you some extra to make sure you have enough.

“Why would I judge you since I want it too?” You ask, straightening up and reaching for the thin dressing gown that didn’t conceal much. You don’t protest the credits, knowing he will insist just like he does every time, but you smile. “When are you planning on leaving?” You ask softly. “I know it’s getting close.”

Joel sighs, rubbing his cheek, “we are close. I- I just need a few more credits and we gotta get the battery which is proving to be a fucking pain. We will get it soon. Then we will be leaving.” He says with a heavy sigh, knowing it won’t be easy to head out there to find Tommy.

You frown, knowing the extra credits Joel gives you are taking away from his goal. Moving over to the decorative box on your dresser. You open it up and remove the false bottom, revealing the stack of credits that you’ve amassed. Pulling out the notes, you turn back to Joel and hold them out. “Take these.” You insist, shoving them into his hand. “I know it’s driving you crazy to not know.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, trying to shove the notes back towards you. “I can’t take your money, baby. You’ve earned it. With every inch of your body. I can’t - I will figure shit out. I will. Keep it.” He urges, needing you to be cared for even if he isn’t the man who will ensure your safety and wellbeing.

“No, your brother is out there.” Even though Joel is normally focused on pleasure when he’s with you, things have slipped out over time. Worries spilling out and you know that he is going to continue to worry about him until he knows what’s become of Tommy Miller. “Don’t argue, you need to go find him.” You shake your head and send him a small smile. “I just- be careful, will you?” You ask. “And maybe come see me when you get back?” You know that when he leaves the Boston QZ, the chances are that you will never see him again, so it’s a hopeless request.

Joel nods, stepping closer to you, and he cups your cheek. You’ve been his solace in a world that would’ve crumbled him in its palm after Tommy left. He leans in softly to kiss you. A rare event but he likes to give you a little glimpse of who he used to be. To prove that he’s still there, inside him. Just as his lips touch yours, there’s an explosion and Joel is pulling his mouth away, yelling at you to get down just as he throws you down and covers your body with his.

The world around you explodes. Screaming out as Joel throws you to the ground, smoke, dust and debris rains down over the two of you as your ears start to ring. A bomb, you’ve seen enough of them to logically know that’s what’s happened but you can’t think, can’t move. Feeling like the world has slowed down to a crawl and the ringing inside your head deafens you.

Joel winces, his ears ringing, and he lifts his head to look around, body tense with adrenaline as his instincts kick into action. He checks for any nearby danger and helps you to your feet, lifting you up onto his shoulder when you don’t respond to him, appearing to be in a daze. Joel’s hearing clears a little and you blink as he carries you out of your room. Joel hears shouting and his heart is pounding as the smoke makes it hard to see and he tries to keep you safe while also preparing to fight. Fucking Fireflies is his guess.

You’re being carried. You slowly start to realize that as you come to. All of a sudden your hearing comes back and it no longer sounds like you’re underwater. Alarms blaring and there’s the sound of gunfire that makes you jump. “Joel!” You scream, trying to look over his head to see where he is taking you.

Joel doesn’t respond. Just carries you up the emergency exit stairs that the staff and those who are in the know use when they come and go. The street is chaos, FEDRA firing back at the Fireflies and Joel sets you down. “We need to move. Can you walk?” He asks, wishing he had his jacket to drape around you and you are barefoot but he needs to keep his hand free in case he needs to fight.

Pulling your robe closed around you, you nod. Turning back your eyes widen when you see that half the building is gone. Rubble piled up and you can hear the screams from inside. Joel calls your name and you look back at him. “We need to go.” He grabs your hand and drags you behind him, ducking down when some shots are fired too close for comfort with the ensuing battle.

“We need to leave. Now.” He demands and drags you down the street into an alley he knows. The streets are filthy out this way but he doesn’t give a fuck about your feet, he’s more concerned with saving your life. His heart pounds in his chest as he escorts you through the back alleys he knows like the back of his hand until he arrives at his apartment building.

Your body is shivering, a side effect of nearly being killed and your adrenaline is making your heart race. “Joel…” you cling to his hand, feet cut and bleeding and you know you are probably bruised. “Where- where are you taking me?”

Joel doesn't respond as he pulls you along up the stairs until he reaches his place. Grabbing the key, he unlocks the apartment and pushes inside, dragging you in behind him. He locks the door once you're in and turns to you, his dark eyes immediately scanning your face and making his gaze trail along your body in search of injuries. "You hurt?" He asks with a bite.

“I- I don’t think-“ you shake your head and frown as you do an internal check. “Just my feet.” You tell him, looking down at the dirty and bleeding appendages. Joel reaches out and cups your face gently, eyes staring into yours and you know he’s checking to make sure you don’t have a concussion. “What- it was a bomb, right?”

Joel nods, "yeah. Fuckin' Fireflies. Bombin' shit like it's gonna make a goddamn difference." He snorts and shifts to kneel, patting down your legs until he reaches your feet. "Sit." He orders, pulling out the chair behind you. He has a first aid kit - as basic as it is - that Tess uses on him when he gets into fights with assholes who like to try and test him. He stands up and grabs the kit plus the bottle of whiskey he got from Bill when he was last there. He kneels back down in front of you when you're seated and he grabs the bottle of whiskey, "drink this. Will help the shock."

Taking the bottle you pull the cork and take a sniff. “Shit, this is real.” You huff in amazement, taking a swig and nearly moaning over the taste. “Doesn’t burn nearly as bad as that bathtub bullshit.” You hum, enjoying the warmth as it spreads through your body.

He chuckles, opening the kit to grab the alcohol wipes Bill had given him one day when he heard Joel and Tess were using booze to clean their wounds. You hiss at the sting and he winces, “sorry, sweetheart. Gotta clean it up.” He says and carefully dabs the skin.

You watch him carefully, amazed at how gentle he is with you. He’s not a cruel man, but he’s never exactly nurturing. To see him care for you so gently is amazing. “You’re good at this.” You murmur. “Clean up a lot of wounds?”

Joel snorts, “more than you know. My own…Tess’s…Tommy’s, well, I used to - you know.” He clears his throat and grabs the bandages, working on wrapping your feet so they are clean. “You in pain?” He asks, looking up at you for a second.

“Yeah.” You admit with a careless shrug. “My club was bombed. Of course I hurt.” You snort. “Although…..you probably hurt more.”

Joel shakes his head, “I always hurt. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old.” He admits, his eyes flickering up to you and God, you’re so gorgeous even after barely escaping your club being bombed. “Have some more whiskey.” He orders, already thinking about how he can get you to Bill and Frank’s, get you somewhere secure and safe.

You take another drink and close your eyes. Starting to freak out. The club was your home, that room was where you lived. Now everything you own is gone and you have nothing and nowhere to go. You take another gulp of the alcohol and start to tremble slightly. Trying to assure yourself that you will be okay.

“Hey. Hey. Eyes on me.” Joel says, noticing your hands starting to shake. You look at him and he reaches up to cup your cheek, “it’ll be okay. I got somewhere you can go. You trust me?”

“I can’t stay here.” You know that he’s with Tess, or as with her as Joel can be. Everyone in the club wonders why she hasn’t come and kicked your ass, considering she was just as feared as he was. Or maybe she was feared because of him. Either way, they were a thing and you weren’t a part of that. “I have to- I have to go.”

Joel shakes his head, reaching for your hand to stop you from standing up. "You have nowhere to go. You have no clothes. No shoes. FEDRA will find you and lock you up for soliciting or sign you up for the program to get you into their grip. You can't go. Let me - let me take care of you." He pleads, needing to make sure you're okay.

“Tess-“ you gesture around the apartment; the bed that he obviously shares with her. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s not right.”

Joel sighs, "Tess and I- it's complicated. She - she never got over losing her kid and her husband and I never got over losing my - look, we know the darkest parts of each other and I - she has seen me at my worst but I don't...her and I - it's convenient." He explains, trying to tell you that he isn't in love with her. He cares for her but he doesn't feel the same way she does. Not sure he ever could, honestly.

You frown slightly, knowing that there is more than just convenience between them. You look around the small space, convinced this is a bad idea, but you don’t really have anywhere to go. All your credits are gone. Joel might have even dropped the ones you had been trying to give him. “I can’t just wear the robe.” You murmur quietly. “Not here. This is her house and it would be disrespectful.” You don’t know if Tess knows, but you feel like she does. Still, you don’t want to flaunt the fact you fuck Joel.

​​Joel shifts to stand up, groaning as his knees ache, his body still hurting from the intensity of the blast, but he moves to put the first aid kit away and find you some clothes. He grabs one of his shirts and some briefs to hand them to you. “I’ll go to my neighbor. She’s around the same size as you. She’ll give me an outfit. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

​​“Okay.” You nod, taking his clothes but deciding that you won’t put them on. Who knows when Tess will come back? The last thing you want is to have her come in with you wearing Joel’s clothes. Your entire body aches and you have to use the bathroom, Joel’s cum still crusted between your cheeks and leaking out of your body.

“Take a shower if you want. There’s enough water left. Not sure if it’s warm.” Joel says as he exits the door and makes his way down the hall to the young woman who lives with her boyfriend that he’s been working with. She looks to be about your size. They know him enough to know he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t have to. The boyfriend opens the door, face set with suspicion like Joel knows his own would be. He nods and asks about some clothes and a pair of shoes. “This girl…she ain’t got a thing. Lost it all in the blast that just happened.” Joel explains and the girlfriend comes to the door, telling Joel she will be right back. She places some clothes in his arms, and he thanks her, making his way back to his apartment to let you get dressed.

The water is cold, but it feels good on your aching muscles. You are sore, much more than you would admit to Joel. You normally are after he comes to you and the blast just exacerbated it. Washing quickly so you don’t use too much water and stepping out to find that you look a little shocked and wary. Wrapping a threadbare towel around your body and stepping out into the apartment. “Joel?”

He closes the door behind him just as you step out of the bathroom. "I think these'll fit you." He says, walking over to you to hand you the pile of clothes he had procured from his neighbor's girlfriend. He notices how goddamn pretty you look fresh out of the shower but shoves that thought aside as he tries to figure out what to do next.

“Thank you.” You know that Joel doesn’t have to do anything for you. So for him to be helping you is sweet. “Why the fuck were the fireflies bombing the club?” You demand, dropping the towel to get dressed. It’s not like Joel hasn’t seen every inch of your body. “A lot of them go.”

Joel snorts, leaning against the doorframe and averting his eyes to the floorboards where his shit is hidden beneath. Just because he’s fucked you doesn’t allow him to be able to ogle your body freely when you aren’t together. “A lot of FEDRA officers go to the club. They don’t tell anyone, they blend in, but I notice them. They ain’t there to rat on anyone but they are there to enjoy the pleasures the rest of us indulge in illegally underground.”

“I know.” You snort, wondering if he’s embarrassed by your nudity outside your room. “One of them likes to brag that he gets his hydros from you.” You admit.

Joel snorts, “of course he is. They can never keep their fucking mouths shut.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Clothes fit?” He asks and you nod, adjusting the shirt. “I’ll give them some free shit when I get something good.” He says more to himself than to you.

You bite your lip and wish you didn’t feel like such a burden. You wonder how many of the others in the club got out, or if they were arrested. “I’ll find somewhere to go as soon as I can.” You tell him quietly. “I won't be long, I promise.”

Joel shakes his head. "You ain't staying in the QZ, baby. I got somewhere you can go. Me and Tess...we are gonna get the battery and then we are leaving here. I can take you to a friend. He and his husband are good friends, they have a secure compound. You'll be safe there." He promises, knowing he can't take you with him.

You want to protest, to tell Joel you don’t want to be pawned off on his friends, but you don’t argue with him. Just shrugging slightly and you wonder why he cares. “If you think that’s best.” You murmur.

Joel nods, “you hungry? I have some jerky and some cookies.” He says, walking into the kitchen to open the cupboard to grab the small amount of snacks he has. “You ain’t a vegetarian, are you?”

You snort. “Hard to be anything here.” You remind him. “Expensive enough to keep your belly full. But no, I’m not a vegetarian. You don’t have to wait on me though.” You don’t want to be a burden on him.

Joel shrugs, feeling that he’s not really taken care of you in the past when it’s come to him fucking you until you can barely move. He’s never considered after care when he’s paying you and you’re there to be his toy and now that he thinks about it, he feels guilty. He wants you to be comfortable.

You realize that he’s not a man of many words and you accept that. “If there’s something you need to do, don’t let me stop you.” You urge him. “Did you drop the credits?” You ask. “I don’t remember a lot after the blast besides you protecting me.” Biting your lip, you smile at him. “Thank you for that, by the way. You saved my life.”

He isn't usually a man to fluster but your praise makes his cheeks flush a little. "Uh, sure. We, uh, I shoved them in my pocket just before we got out of there." He says, pulling the notes out of his tatty jeans. Joel holds them out towards you, "these are yours."

You look at them and shake your head. “No, I gave them to you.” You remind him and when he opens his mouth to protest, you cut him off. “I won’t need them if I’m leaving the QZ.” You remind him. “Get whatever you need for the trip or extra food because you’re taking me.” You urge him.

He wants to argue with you but he doesn't. He takes the papers from you, knowing this will pay for the battery. "Don't worry, baby. I'll make sure you're safe." He promises, "Bill and Frank...well, you'll love Frank. Bill is a grumpy bastard."

“So he’s like you?” You ask teasingly, sending him a small smirk before you tilt your head curiously. “How did you meet them?” You ask, making Joel look a little embarrassed. “Tess was talking to Frank on the radio and we slipped out to see what they were like. If there was something there we could use. We set up trade with them. Smuggling shit.”

You nod and Joel shuffles awkwardly at the silence, reaching for the jerky and cookies along with the bottle of whiskey before he takes a seat on the sofa. “Yeah and if they get anything, Bill will send a signal through the radio.” Joel jerks his chin at the radio by the window. “80s ain’t good.” He says, “but I haven’t heard anything from them for the past week or so.”

“The 80s are bad.” You nod. “Besides making you feel old?” You tease and walk over to sit down beside him. “Hopefully you have that battery you’ve been talking about lined up?” You ask, taking the bottle and having a sip before handing it back to him. “What’s your plan?”

Joel sighs as he takes a sip from the bottle of whiskey. "Tess is meeting the asshole who has the battery to confirm we are getting it and we have the credits. Tess is out tonight and she - she should be coming over here." He frowns, glancing down at his broken watch and curses himself before he looks out of the window. "She can look after herself though."

“Oh, uh, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” You tell Joel honestly. As much as you’ve enjoyed your time with Joel, you know that he’s not yours. You are just a toy to him, a sex toy to use and then forget exists until he needs to use you again. “If you’ve got someplace I can sleep, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “like I said, me and Tess…it’s casual. We use each other. Besides, I wouldn’t want you anywhere else with this shit going down.” He says, his fingers twitching around the bottle. “You need to be safe.”

“It’s okay if it’s more than casual.” You tell him, reaching for the bottle again. “Really. I’m not judging.” You take another sip and look around. “I’m safe here? With you?” You ask, flirting with him slightly.

Joel snorts, “you’re safe from what’s outside. Safe from me? I don’t think anyone is. Not even me.” He confesses, glancing across the room to avoid your gaze. “You’re too good for the sins I’ve committed with these hands. Shouldn’t have even been allowed to touch you.”

“I like when you touch me.” You admit. “It’s not like I’ve never done horrible things. We all have.” You tell him. “It’s why we are still alive.” The things you’ve done are things others would look down on, before Outbreak, even now. You don’t care about that, you’re alive.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the crooked floor boards. “I like touching you. A lot. It’s why I’ve always come back to you. I think about you, you know? When I don’t see you that day.” He admits, biting his lip as he struggles to get out anything emotional.

It’s almost physical, your reaction to his confession. Straightening up and feeling proud of yourself. Preening that Joel thinks about you when he’s not there. “I think about you too.” You admit. “Used to ask if you had sent word about coming.”

Joel's stomach twists and he turns to look at you. "I wanted to come more but shit keeps happening and the credits..." He trails off, frowning at the fact that he's spent quite a bit on having sex with you.

“I know.” You lean in, admiring the way his eyes are dark and seemingly boring into your soul. “But now, there’s no credits to exchange.” You point out. “When you want me again, take me.”

Joel knows that Tess could be back any second but he could never resist when you look at him like that. He swallows harshly and his dark eyes flick down to your lips, slowly leaning in to give you a chance to pull back but when you don't, he leans in to press his lips to yours.

This kiss is softer, sweeter than the kisses Joel had given you in the club. Raw and real, no agreement between you. Reaching up, you slide a hand around the back of his neck and move to straddle him. He’s still dusty and dirty from the blast, but you don’t care. You’re alive and so is he. That’s all that matters right now.

Joel sighs into the kiss, his hands trailing along your spine. He shouldn’t be soft. He shouldn’t allow emotions to seep into the hard shell he’s maintained with you but he needs to reassure himself that you’re alive and okay. He deepens the kiss, gripping your chin to tilt your head, and he slides his tongue into your mouth when you gasp.

Your eyes flutter closed and you melt against him. Rolling your hips slowly as the kiss deepens. Loving the closeness, the sweetness of the moment. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him. It’s almost like you are a new couple, slowly feeling each other out.

Joel knows he can’t fuck you. You must be sore from earlier and from the blast, and he’s filthy, but your body moving on top of him and your tongue tangling with his has him groaning into your mouth, his cock hardening beneath you.

You moan into his mouth, enjoying the way his body responds to you and even though you know that he’s not going to fuck you, your cunt is dripping. Enjoying the celebration that you are alive and so is he. Slowly, your fingers slide up into his hair and you tangle your fingers into the longer locks. He groans again when you grind down onto him, making him thrust up into you. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass in the tatty jeans and he loves the way you whimper in response.

“I love your hands.” You groan, breaking off the kiss to run your lips down his jaw. “Strong, hard.” You murmur. “Deadly. I know what they could do, but you only make me feel good.”

His hands squeeze your ass again, “love your fucking body. Fucking love your ass and your pussy.” He grunts, unused to giving compliments and especially receiving them. You rock down onto him and he hisses in response, “that’s it. Take what you want, sweetheart.”

You moan at his praise, surprisingly mild considering some of the dirty talk he has given you over the years. It makes this even more sensual and intimate. “You’re so fucking good Joel.” You pant breathlessly. “So good. Dream about you touching me.”

He chuckles, “the fuckin’ dreams I’ve had about you. Wake up hard. Didn’t used to do that. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old to be waking up with a hard on.” He snorts, leaning in to kiss along your neck, resisting the urge again to bite down.

You whimper, closing your eyes and your hips drag over his hard cock. “Bite me, baby.” You beg softly. “Always wanted you to. Always wanted to have you mark me.”

He groans, nudging his nose against your ear as you rock down onto his hard cock like he’s a goddamn teenager. “I can’t. The fungus.” He grunts and you shake your head, “don’t care. I don’t care. Please.” You whimper and how can he ever deny you when you beg so sweetly. He licks along the salty skin of your neck before he sinks his teeth into your flesh to mark you as his.

It’s better than you imagined. Just shy of breaking the skin, you know that he is marking you. Hard enough that the imprint of his teeth will last. “Fuck, Joel.” You whine, rocking your hips faster as your clit throbs. “More, baby, fuck.”

He groans into your skin, and wanting you to cum on top of him. He hasn’t done this since he was a fucking teenage boy and he feels like he’s gonna cum in his pants too fast like one with his teeth in your skin. His fingers dig into your ass and he rocks you a little faster, wanting you to cum.

“Joel.” You whine, closing your eyes and rolling your hips frantically, chasing the friction against your clit. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pant out, shivering when his teeth dig into your skin harder and he squeezes you. Encouraging you to cum and you let go. Body exploding in pleasure as you reach your peak with a cry.

Joel groans into your skin, withdrawing his teeth to lick along the mark he caused, his body almost vibrating with possessiveness as you shake above him, orgasm rocking through you. He pulls back to look at your blissed out face and he hisses, fingers digging into your ass to keep you rocking on top of him. He's so fucking close. He leans in to bury his face in your chest, breathing you in as he rocks once more and grunts, spilling into his pants like a teenager.

You feel his cock throbbing, groaning quietly when you realize that he’s cum in his pants. It makes you feel powerful, that this man can cum just from you grinding into him. “Fuck, fuck.” You whisper, fingers slowly untangling from his hair and stroking it gently back into place. “We’re alive.” You murmur softly, feeling tired and euphoric at the same time. “Thank you, baby.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted, and for the first time in a long time it's not because of booze. He caresses your back, inhaling deeply to calm his racing heart. "Shit. I need a shower." He chuckles softly, knowing that he's filthy and now he's got cum all over him.

“Shower.” You murmur softly and shift off of him onto the sofa again. “Maybe you will be able to sleep afterwards.”

Joel nods, grimacing as he stands up. He doesn't have a lot of clothes and cum stains are a bitch to deal with. He sighs and waddles to the bathroom, making you giggle. He turns his head to look at you, a slight glare at you until he can't hold back the smirk, "fuckin' laughing at me." He grumbles but grins when his back is turned as he shuffles into the bathroom.

You giggle again, looking around the apartment, interested in seeing what Joel lives like. You only ever deal with him in the club so this is a nice insight. Moving over to the bed, you yawn, feeling tired and you lay down when you hear the water start running.

Joel comes out with a ratty towel wrapped around his waist, seeing you asleep and curled up in his bed making his stomach twist. He hasn’t cared about someone this much in so long. He doesn’t really know how to act. He grabs a clean pair of threadbare briefs, deciding to redress in case he has to get up quickly and slides into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you with a soft sigh as he closes his eyes.

You hear the door open, the darkness outside the windows telling you it’s still the middle of the night. A small groan, and a hand slides around Joel, bumping your back. “What the fuck?” The question is whispered but you don’t say anything and Joel just grunts and his arm squeezes around the hand. Your eyes flutter closed, too tired to really worry about it, although you know that Tess just came home.

When the light filters through the shitty blinds, you hear voices in the kitchen and blink through the exhaustion, your body aching as you shift to sit up. “I can’t believe you brought the fucking prostitute back to the apartment.” Tess hisses and Joel growls, “don’t fucking call her that. She’s a good girl. She was just trying to survive like all of us.”

Anxiety swirls in your stomach and you know that it was a mistake to let Joel convince you to stay. Wincing as you stand, you shuffle around the small half wall and bite your lip. “I’ll go.” You tell Joel, shooting Tess, a surprisingly young looking blond with a black eye and cuts all over her face, an apologetic look. “I don’t want to cause problems. Joel- he saved my life. From a bombing.”

Tess stares at you and you realize there’s more between her and Joel than he let on. “Stay.” Joel insists and you shake your head, “I can’t.” He sighs and narrows his eyes at Tess. “You have nowhere to go. Stay here. We - we gotta go get the battery and then we will be back. Remember what I told you? About Bill’s?” He asks, ignoring the way Tess shakes her head.

“Look, I don’t want to cause issues, and obviously being here is doing just that.” You tell Joel. “I- I’ll be okay.” Joel shakes his head and looks towards Tess. “She’s the only reason we have the credits for the battery.” He growls. You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m obviously not welcomed here and this is her space.”

Joel stares at Tess who sighs and turns to look at you. “Don’t go. Stay here. Joel clearly has a plan and there’s no changing his mind. Stay and we will get the battery then we will leave the QZ. Do you have any experience fighting or killing the infected?” Tess asks, crossing her arms.

You snort and shake your head, irritated at her idea that you are helpless. “I’ve survived this far.” You remind her. “And I’ve only been in the QZ for five years. I was pulling my own weight in whatever group I was in.”

Tess nods, looking at Joel again. “Fine. She can come. Just don’t be getting yourself killed. I don’t want to deal with a pissed off Joel.” She says as she pushes past you to grab her stuff to go and get the damn battery.

You look at Joel but he just shakes his head. Obviously no one is going to explain why Tess looks like she’s been worked over. “Stay here.” He tells you, handing you a bag. “Go through the apartment, take whatever you need.”

You nod and Joel sighs as he grabs his boots, getting ready to go shake down for the battery. He’s ready to fucking kill that bastard for putting his hands on Tess. When he’s ready, he stands up and walks over to you, his eyes pleading slightly, almost worried that you’re going to leave. “Don’t go. Let me figure this out. Get you somewhere safe.” He urges and when you nod, he stalks out of the door, shoulders set as he prepares to beat that asshole up.

Alone in the apartment, you sigh, looking around and deciding that you will pack up what you can. If they get the battery, then there is a good chance you will be leaving the QZ tonight. Not that you will miss it, but you wish you had a weapon. For now, you need to find some good shoes, not the worn sneakers you had been given by the neighbor. Opening the closet, you spy a pair of boots and smirk slightly. They are obviously Tess’s but they look like they will fit.

“I can’t believe you gave her my fucking clothes to wear.” Tess gripes and Joel snorts, “you wanted to come back and find her naked in the bed?” Tess rolls her eyes, “all those fucking credits you’ve paid her because I didn’t want you to fuck my ass.” Joel huffs, “can we not do this right now?” He asks as they enter the building to find the battery.

“Fine.” She goes to push open the secret door but finds that it’s blocked. “What the hell?” She huffs, banging on it again. “Do you smell that?”

Joel wrinkles his nose and tenses, gun ready as he pushes the door open with all his might. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses at the stench. Dead bodies. Men litter the floor, gunshot wounds in their bodies, and Joel glances around at the massacre. “Shit.” He grunts, back tense as he listens out for anyone hiding.

The next burst of movement, Tess watches as Joel grabs a girl and throws her to the ground, his gun pointed at her. “Point them at me!” A shout from down the hall catches her attention and she sees Marlene, leader of the Fireflies in Boston. “Not at her.” Tess scoffs. “Well if it isn’t the Che Guevara of Boston.” She snorts. “Looking a little worse for wear there.”

Joel keeps his gun pointed at the kid, unsure of if she is armed, and Tess sighs, “Joel.” She murmurs and his lip twitches as he shifts his gun towards Marlene.

“Asshole.” The kid hisses and it makes Tess smirk as she listens to the deal that Marlene makes. It’s a good one, especially since it would mean better equipment than what they could get themselves. Joel is on the fence, but she knows that he will do what she wants. “Think of your girlfriend.” Tess tells him. “The FEDRA vehicle will be nicer than what we’ve got.

Ellie lunges for the knife and Joel swings his gun back towards her as he steps on the weapon. 

“Joel!” Marlene hisses, shaking her head. “Ellie, no.” She instructs the little girl. “You are all that matters. Joel will take you to my people, you go with him.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to believe the turn this has taken. “Get your shit, kid. We wait until it’s dark then we leave.” He orders, letting go of the girl and kicking her knife aside. He glares at Tess and stalks along the hall, heading back to the apartment.

When the key turns in the lock to the apartment, you stand up. Watching in amazement as a kid is shoved inside and the door pulled closed behind her. “Hey! Assholes!” The girl, probably around thirteen, doesn’t notice you as she bangs on the door for a few seconds, obviously upset at being shoved in here. You wonder what the hell is going on and if she is coming with you.

Joel hisses at Tess as she tells she will be back and he shakes his head, unlocking the door and Ellie tries to escape but he pushes her back in and locks the door behind him. “Sit down kid.” He orders, his eyes finding yours and he walks over to you. “She’s coming with us” is all he says.

“Oh.” Your eyes slide up and down his body, noticing that he had gotten soaked in the rain. “Everything go alright?” You ask anxiously, but Joel just shakes his head. “No.” He grunts. “But we will leave tonight.”

He dries off best he can without getting changed and he sits down on the sofa. Ellie sits by the window, looking between you and Joel. “So are you two like, a couple? Ohhh you’re a throuple.” She guesses, figuring Tess is with you and Joel. “Cool. Progressive.” She says with a nod.

“No, no, nothing like that.” You promise, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What’s your name?” You ask, and she smirks, aware that you are trying to change the subject. “Veronica.” She lies and Joel snorts. “Really? Marlene called you Ellie.” He challenges and she rolls her eyes. You grin at her attitude and introduce yourself.

Ellie huffs, “is he always this fucking grumpy?” She asks and you snort, nodding your head. “It’s kind of his thing.” Ellie looks at Joel and shrugs. Joel closes his eyes and Ellie frowns, “you tired already?” She asks and Joel crosses his arms, “gonna be a long wait until it’s dark, might as well get some sleep.”

Joel shifts to lay down on the sofa, so you move towards the end, but he frowns at you. Making you wonder what you’ve done wrong. He covers his eyes with his arm and Ellie scoffs. “You know your watch is broken?” Joel tenses, but doesn’t answer and you are curious about the watch, never remembering him taking it off before but you don’t know if it was broken. Too busy obeying him.

Joel doesn’t respond as he closes his eyes and listens to the rain hit the window and he listens to you and Ellie breathing, trying to act nonchalant but he’s tense and waiting for something to happen. “So…you guys been together a while?” Ellie asks you, ever curious.

“Oh, no, we aren’t together.” You don’t know how you would explain your relationship to this girl, but you know that it’s not being together. “He’s helping me.” You tell her with a small smile. “He’s a friend.”

Ellie nods, a little smirk on her face as she reaches up to draw a smiley face on the window in the condensation. “Sureeee.” She says softly, not believing you. Not with how Joel was around you compared to how he was around Tess. She’s observant and she noticed in seconds how he behaved around you.

You huff and bite your lip, looking over at Joel and wonder if he’s just ignoring the conversation or if he’s fallen asleep. He’s still frowning, so you think he’s awake but you can’t be sure. That unhappy look might just be the normal set to his face in such a harsh world. “Why are you sneaking out of the QZ?” You ask her, sure that she should be in the FEDRA school or at least with her parents.

Ellie doesn’t look at you as she stares out of the window, “I gotta go west. It’s - it’s complicated.” She says vaguely. Marlene had told her to never tell anyone about why she needed to get to Colorado. Joel is listening but doesn’t let on that he is. Marlene didn’t exactly tell him why she had to go west to the Fireflies. He doesn’t give a shit honestly. He just needs to find Tommy and make sure you’re somewhere safe.

“West is dangerous.” You tell her quietly. “Raiders and slavers.” You send the girl a pointed look. “If someone offers you help, for nothing, don’t trust them. At all. Kill them. They will do worse to you, if they get a chance.”

Ellie tries to not look like she’s scared. She puts on a brave front but she’s never left the QZ. She only dealt with the infected that fateful night in the mall. She is terrified but she’s tough, sitting up a little straighter and she tries to convincingly say to you “I can handle myself.”

You don’t disabuse her of the notion, but it’s obvious she’s not able to handle herself out there. Not without someone. “Stay close to Joel and listen to him.” You advise. “He’ll make sure you get where you’re going.”

Joel listens, withholding the scoff at Ellie’s bravado and his stomach twists at your trust in him. He hasn’t had anyone trust him like that since…since Sarah. He almost touches his broken watch, the memory of the moment his daughter died, but he maintains his act and listens to you and Ellie talk a little more until the sun starts to go down.

During the talk with Sarah, you had been rubbing Joel’s leg. Not that you even realized it, just absent mindedly caressing him as you chatted with the teenager. Until the doorknob turns and you snatch your hand away as Tess comes into the apartment. “It’s time.” She tells you, lifting a brow at your guilty expression.

Joel pretends to wake up, wincing as he sits up and that’s not put on. He’s getting achy when he sits in the same position for too long now. Fuck, he’s getting old. He grunts as he sits up, looking at you, then Ellie, then finally, Tess. “Get your shit. We leave in ten.” He says, “I’m gonna take a piss.” He announces and walks into the bathroom.

Tess looks at you and rolls her eyes. “Did you pack up enough of my shit?” She asks, narrowing her eyes when she sees the boots on your feet, but she doesn’t comment on those. “Yes, I did.” You snort, picking up the backpack you had filled with necessities and even the gun you had discovered under the floorboard.

Tess huffs as Joel comes out of the bathroom and he rubs his hands on his jeans. “Get your shit, kid. We are heading out.” He says, “don’t wanna be later. The guards will be changing shifts soon.” Joel explains, grabbing his jacket and his backpack that he keeps ready to go. He walks over to the floorboards and takes his weapons out, the credits he keeps hidden. He packs it up and Tess gets herself ready. Once the group is ready to go, Joel brings his finger to his lip. “Everyone keeps quiet. No one says a word.”

The jacket you had stolen from the closet is probably Tess’s but you wear it anyways. Keeping your head down, you keep close to Joel and the girl, Tess following behind you. Feeling nervous about the idea of going out into the wild again, you take a deep breath as they take you along alleys and pathways, down to a sewer entrance. “Really?” Ellie snorts and Joel rolls his eyes as he motions for you to go down. You grab the flashlight and lower yourself down, descending into the darkness.

Ellie hesitates but Joel pushes Ellie inside of the sewer and she reluctantly gets down, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Gonna get a whole lot worse from here, kid.” Joel warns her and helps Tess in before he heads down and pulls the manhole cover back over.

You get down and start shining your flashlight up and down the sewer, grimacing to yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to do something like this and you haven’t missed it. “Come on.” Joel grunts when he hops down from the ladder. “This way.”

He escorts the group through the tunnel, stopping when he hears a noise, his hand raised until he thinks it’s safe to keep walking. He guides the women to the end of the sewer, glancing out of the grates and he raises his finger to his lips again, telling everyone to be quiet as he takes a second to listen for anyone outside before he works on pushing the grate free so they can exit the sewer.

“Holy shit, I’m outside!” Ellie cries out and the three of you groan as Joel grabs her and yanks her down right as the spotlight rolls around. “Don’t get us caught!” You hiss, knowing the FEDRA agents won’t be happy to catch you outside the QZ. Too many people have been hung lately.

Joel mentally curses Marlene and he shushes the kid. "Keep your mouths shut." Joel hisses at everyone as he lifts his head and he steps forward to check for any guards. "This way." He growls, stepping quietly through the outer fences of the QZ, his gun aimed as his heart pounds in his chest, his ears listening for anyone nearby.

Your heart stops when you hear the FEDRA agent yell at all of you to freeze. Instantly complying because you know that it will be worse if you fight them. You hold up your hands and look at Joel and Tess.

"Get down on your knees." The FEDRA agent growls and Joel follows his order, his hands in the air, and he curses softly. When the test stings his neck, Joel hisses and the agent moves on to Tess. Joel tries to bargain, offering the agent some more pills but he isn't having it.

“Well what do we have here?” You know that voice, you hate that voice. This guy is in the club and he has a sadistic streak. He gets his rocks off on hurting others, sometimes you. Rarely though, since he knows Joel sees you. “Baby, you aren’t running away are you?” He coos, stroking your cheek and you jerk back from his touch. “We could have so much fun together.”

Joel clenches his jaw, so ready to kill this motherfucker for touching you. He hisses under his breath and the guard pulls your jacket down, leaning in towards your neck until he pulls back rapidly. “What the fuck? Someone bit you?” He gasps, “you’re fucking infected?” The guard asks, grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to your feet. Joel doesn’t even take a second to react. Spinning around, he grabs the asshole to drag him to the ground and starts to hit. His fists striking his head over and over. The blood splattering over Joel’s face as he loses himself to the haze of violence that he’s learned to lean into for his survival since the outbreak. His vision goes dark as he focuses on hitting the guard, his only goal to keep you and Ellie and Tess safe.

“Joel!” Tess snaps, your eyes wide and fixed on the sight in front of you. Joel beating the man to death, his body limp and lifeless and you know that Joel isn’t going to let you be hurt. He’s going to protect you at all costs. You walk over to him and when he pulls back for another hit, you touch his shoulder.

Joel flinches as you touch his shoulder, the urge to lash out almost overwhelming him until the haze clears and he looks up at you. His knuckles torn up as he looks down at the lifeless body beneath him, blood and brain matter scattered across the ground. He stands up on shaking legs, wiping his hands on the guys jacket. “We need to go. Now.” He grunts, his voice rough with the lust for violence. Ellie stares, almost fascinated and enjoying the sight until Tess taps her and she shrugs her backpack as she waits for Joel to lead.

You aren’t afraid of him, that’s not what this is. It’s almost a fascination. You’ve only ever seen Joel in control. Control of you, control of the scene, of what happens. The violence tempered, but now you wonder what it would be like for him to touch you when he’s like this. Would it be as sweet or would it sting?

Joel is shaking slightly as he flings his shotgun over his shoulder, continuing to guide the group away from the QZ. Another life he’s taken. Another life that darkens his soul. He doesn’t think about it too long, won’t allow himself the distraction as he keeps his eyes and ears open to hear of any other threats.

You follow behind him, watching closely as he tries to compose himself, knowing that he might need a few minutes to himself. Tess noticed, the girl has also been bit, but it wasn’t by Joel. The scanner had shown red and she’s infected, although she had promised that she wasn’t and that she could explain. You don’t even know if Joel registers that right now.

**** 

Joel’s eyes widen when Tess shows him the bite, rearing back, he shakes his head. The guilt floods through him, knowing he didn’t protect her, didn’t love her like she wanted him to. He’s wasted her life and she could’ve been with someone who could give all of them to her. “I- no.” He shakes his head, refusing to accept that she’s going to die. That she’s sacrificing herself for the rest of the group.

Tess smiles, the curve of her lips bittersweet and her eyes flicker towards you and then back to Joel. “If you cared about me at all, just a little. Just a fraction of what I felt for you, listen to me.” She begs him. “That girl is important. To everyone.” She understands now how important Ellie can be to humanity, to winning this horrible war with the infected. “Get her to Bill and Frank, they will know what to do with her.” She promises. “They can get her out west. Joel-“ she doesn’t reach for him, but she wants to. “Stop denying yourself what you want.” Swallowing harshly, she looks back at you. “Take care of her, and she’ll take care of you. You love her, even if you won’t admit it and she looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.” She snorts. “And she lets you put it in her ass. Don’t waste more time. You might not have much of it left, old man.”

Joel would usually chuckle at Tess’s frankness but right now, he’s devastated that he’s losing his closest friend, his partner. He nods, eyes hardening as the mission becomes clear again and he grabs Ellie who screams, “let me go, you fucker” as she resists leaving Tess. He grabs your arm too as he passes you, dragging both of you out of the capital building and into the forest where you can hide from the infected. The explosion shakes the ground and Joel pushes both women down, covering you and Ellie with his body.

Your eyes close and you start to silently cry, hating that Tess has sacrificed herself for the three of you. You know that she was infected, that she would have turned, but it’s still a loss. Joel cared about her, he had to have after spending so much time with her. Comfortable or not, she meant something to him. Joel pops up, gun in his hand to watch if any infected come out of the now burning building.

“Let’s go.” Joel orders when he feels the infected aren’t rushing towards you. He walks a little faster, pushing you and Ellie to move in front of him just so he can still cover you both. He’s quiet when you get into the forest, replaying Tess’s words over and over again. His eyes shifting over to you. Does he love you? Had Tess seen something before he even saw it himself. You turn to look at him, eyes bloodshot with shed tears and yet you muster a smile for him. His chest tightens and he swallows harshly, not returning the smile as his thoughts are chaos.

The walk is quiet, glum until you reach a stream. It’s a good place to rest for a moment. Joel needs it, he needs a moment to process. You herd Ellie off towards a tree and sit her down. “I’ll go get some water.” You offer, taking her canteen and Joel’s and moving down to the water's edge.

Joel shakes his head, tears stinging in his eyes as he crouches beside the edge of the river. He sighs and grabs a stone, admiring the smooth surface and he decides to find more, stacking them up in a small memorial to Tess, one stone for each year he knew her. He isn't a praying man but he says a silent eulogy to her, wishing her soul peace after fighting so long. He hopes she is reunited with her son and husband. He sighs, wiping his hands on his jeans as he makes his way back to you and Ellie.

It’s tense, and when Ellie speaks, Joel snaps at her. You know that she’s afraid that Joel is going to blame her, that if it were for her, that this wouldn’t have happened. She’s wrong. “We are all at risk out here.” You remind them both. “Best thing we can do is honor Tess’s wishes and get you where you need to go.” You don’t mention the other part, not able to put it into words. “Right?”

Joel nods, “yeah. We need to keep moving.” Joel says, striding ahead, hands clasped around his rifle. He’s mourning Tess but he has a duty to you and Ellie. He needs to get you somewhere safe and needs to get Ellie west. Then he can find Tommy. He doesn’t say another word as the sun climbs higher in the sky, the journey to Bill and Frank’s is carved in his mind so he can let his mind wander slightly to Tess’s words about you. Does he love you? It’s been so long since he even knew what love felt like. He’s built an impenetrable wall around his heart and he doesn’t know how to let anyone in.

Ellie starts to talk. Joel sometimes answers, but pretty often, he’s locked inside his own mind so you chatter with the younger girl. Telling her about your own experiences after outbreak and what happened, why you’re so watchful as the three of you walk along the road. You’re cutting close to an embankment and Joel urges you away, but Ellie is curious. Making you shove down the unease since you are sure you know what he’s trying to steer you away from.

Joel tells Ellie to stay away, wanting to protect her from the horror that lies in the embankment. He pushes her along and Ellie is curious as ever so he explains briefly what happened before she keeps asking him a million questions. His eyes drift over to you, wondering if you ever saw anything happen like that before you found the QZ.

You shiver slightly, looking at the bodies and you close your eyes. Not a particularly religious person, but you say a prayer for those poor people in the ditch. “Fuckers.” You mutter to yourself. “Hopefully all of them got infected.”

You walk for hours, the sun beating down on your face as you walk along the dirt road, once used by hundreds of cars a day. Joel glances up as the sun is starting to set and he doesn't like being out in the dark. He searches the forest for a safe spot, something with a little height and there's a river nearby. "We stop here." He says, stepping into the forest so you are covered by the bushes and the growth.

You follow him quietly, kneeling down and opening your bag. You had packed up most of the food in the apartment, determining they weren’t coming back to Boston and it would be needed. Opening a bag, you toss it to Ellie and then hand one to Joel. “How is your hand?” You ask quietly.

He flexes his fingers, glad he soaked the blood off in the river but it will take a while for the skin to heal. “It’s fine.” He grunts, taking a sip of the water he got from the river earlier. He watches Ellie practically inhale her food and he sees you hesitate. “Eat.” He orders, not wanting you to get ill or make a stupid mistake before you get to Bill’s.

“Yes sir.” You quietly murmur, smirking at the slight use of his preferred name in the club. You open up the bag and take out some of the jerky before taking a sip of your canteen. Joel shoots you a look, but he doesn’t say anything, making you bite your lip.

Joel is pleased to see you eating and he hates how his cock twitches when you call him ‘sir.’ Always sounds so fucking cute coming from your lips. He clears his throat and opens his pack, chewing on the jerky as he watches you from across the clearing. He will set up a fire if the coast remains clear. If he hears anything at all, he won’t risk it.

You finish up and pack away the rest of the food and wipe your hands on your jeans. “You have a sleeping bag? Or a blanket?” You ask Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head, “no. I don’t.” Joel sighs, grabbing his pack. “You can use mine. I ain’t gonna sleep. Gonna keep watch.” He says and hands Ellie the rolled up sleeping bag. “Here you go, kid.” He says and looks over at you, “you have one.” He tells you, reminding you of Tess’s sleeping bag you got from her when she handed you her pack.

“Yeah.” You frown slightly, feeling a little morbid about sleeping in a dead woman’s bag, but it’s not like you haven’t done that before. Everything everyone owns came from someone who died. It wasn’t like they are making a lot of new shit.

Ellie doesn’t take long to settle down in the sleeping bag, going to sleep like someone who has nothing to stay awake worrying about. No regrets. No losses. She’s innocent and her ease of sleep reminds Joel of how much he’s lost of himself over the years.

“I wouldn’t start a fire this close to the city.” You murmur softly, still awake and watching Joel as he scans the area. “Not unless you need it. Too many wander around here, looking for easy targets.”

Joel’s eyes meet yours again. Fuck, you’re so pretty. He nods, “I wasn’t planning on it. It’s not too cold. And it’s better to keep undercover. You okay? You cold?” He asks, knowing he’ll offer you his jacket if you need it.

“No. I’m warm enough.” You promise, letting the silence fall between the two of you for another minute. “I’m sorry about Tess, Joel.” You whisper. “So goddamn sorry.”

Joel stares at the ground, unsure of how to respond when he is the one who got Tess caught in that situation. He should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve done something to save her. He shakes his head, “it’s over now. She’s at peace.” He murmurs, hoping that when the day comes that he dies - either killed or bitten - that he will meet Sarah again.

You don’t speak again, settling down and closing your eyes. You wish Joel would crawl into the sleeping bag with you, but you know he won’t. Instead you try to get what little sleep you can, your gun under your leg, right in finger’s reach.

Joel sits there, listening to the noises of the woods. Nature has crept back into places that humans drove them from. Boston was once a bustling city and now it’s a sanctuary for the infected and the animals that have braved the derelict city now that the humans have almost disappeared. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on Tess’s death. She sacrificed herself when she was going to die anyway. Joel knows he should be devastated but she was his comfort, his partner. She wasn’t the woman he was in love with. He imagines if it was you in Tess’s place and his heart clenches at the thought, almost in pain at the mere thought.

When you wake up, it’s not even sunrise yet, but it’s surprising you had slept through the night. It’s not something you’ve done in a long time. Sitting up, you immediately look for Joel and frown when you don’t see him. “Shit.” You hiss, reaching for the gun. “Joel?” You whisper softly.

He’d gone for a piss when you wake up and he hears you whisper his name. “I’m right here, baby.” He says softly, not wanting to wake Ellie before he has to. He kneels down beside you, “you doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You’re relieved that he’s there and you reach up to touch him. “Just wanted to- I didn’t see you.” You admit sheepishly. “Freaked me out for a minute.”

He nods, understanding how you feel and he wishes he could show you more emotion. He reaches for your hand, squeezing it, and he offers you a tiny smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Gonna get you somewhere safe.” He promises, “we ain’t too far from Bill’s. We will get there before it’s dark.”

You nod, wishing that you could ask him why he was so willing to leave you behind, but you’re chicken. Tess was wrong, he doesn’t care about you. Not like that. He feels beholden to you. “I trust you, Joel.” You admit softly. “Have from the very beginning.”

He doesn’t deserve your trust. Too many people have died that he was supposed to protect. He lets go of your hand and decides to wake Ellie up, wanting to get to Bill’s sooner rather than later. “Come on, kid. Time to get up.” He says a little louder, smirking slightly at her groan of protest. Typical teenager.

It doesn’t take long to get cleaned up, you go with Ellie to the stream to wash your face and rinse out your mouths. Rolling up the sleeping bags and shoving it back into your packs before starting back out onto the road. “Need to find some pads or tampons.” You tell Joel.

Joel nods, feeling a little awkward but glad that you’re here to help Ellie if she needs that shit. If you need it, well, he’s just relieved that you aren’t pregnant. That would be a complication beyond anything else right now. “Bill probably has some in his place. Keeps all kinds of shit.” He says, keeping his eyes on the road ahead and his ears listening for anything or anyone.

You and Ellie talk, the younger girl full of questions and it’s only a few hours later that you are walking to the edge of a gated community. “Bill and Frank have their own town?” You ask in amazement.

Joel doesn't respond with anything other than a nod as he enters the code to open the gate. Noticing immediately the decline of the house, the flowers aren't watered and his heart sinks.

You frown slightly, not seeing anyone. You had expected someone to greet you. Either with a welcoming smile, or a shotgun. Who knows how Joel’s friends act. You stay close to Ellie, trailing behind Joel as he makes his way to one house and opens the door.

His chest tightens at the lack of activity around the house. Normally Frank would already be coming up to Joel, asking him what he wants to eat and Bill would be grumbling about limited resources but there’s no one around and they don’t go out anywhere. Joel sets his pack down, making his way into the house to see the flies picking at the leftovers of a meal that looks rotten and he knows. His eyes sting with tears again but he inhales sharply and shoves down the emotions. He’s lost too many people. “They - they ain’t - they are gone.” Joel announces, “let’s shower. Get some food from their pantry.” He says, knowing he can look at Bill’s truck to see if it’s working.

“Okay.” You frown slightly, looking at the air of abandonment around the house and you know that they just didn’t leave. You bite your lips, feeling bad for Joel and you follow him upstairs. “I’m eating!” Ellie cries, hungry after the walk.

Joel nods, “you wanna shower?” He asks you, knowing you must want to after walking so far. You nod and he tells you where to go. “House is safe.” He promises, “the entire place is secure.” Joel sees the letter on the table but he can’t open it yet. He closes his eyes for a second before he sees you exit the room.

You wait, hesitant and respectful. Honestly waiting for someone to pop out, but you don’t get that. Doors are open and it’s obvious that the house was taken care of, despite the thick layer of dust that is now coating everything. “Come on.” You jump when you hear Joel, finding him watching you with sad eyes. “They have hot water.”

He guides you up the stairs to the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” It seems like that’s all you’ve been saying to him lately and you reach out to start unbuttoning his shirt. You assume that he wants to shower with you. Maybe fuck you, and you’re completely fine with that.

He wants you to shower with him and he is tired of pretending that he doesn’t want you. He was going to leave you here safe and sound with Bill and Frankie and now you’re gonna have to come with him and Ellie across the country. He’s terrified for something to happen to you out there.

You strip his shirt off and pull your own over your head. The jackets and packs left downstairs. Now it’s just the two of you. Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra and drag it down your arms. “A nice hot shower is exactly what you need.”

Joel nods, toeing off his boots and he kneels down to take yours off, tossing them down and helping you take off your socks. He slides his hands up your legs to unbutton your jeans and drag them down your legs along with your panties. "You're so fuckin' beautiful." He murmurs, his stomach twisting as he looks up at you.

“Joel…..” your heart pounds at the way he is looking at you, wishing that you had the courage to tell him how you feel. “How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

"Shower, baby. Let's get under the hot water. Who knows when we will get another shower." He says, groaning as he stands up, unbuckling his jeans to push them down and his cock is half hard as his briefs hit the floor. "Get in." He orders, "make sure it's not too hot."

You groan when the hot water hits your skin. “It’s perfect.” You moan quietly, enjoying the heat. You always loved hot showers but they were expensive and you rarely indulged in them at the club. Turning around, you watch him step into the shower.

He steps in behind you and reaches out to pull you into his chest, his head resting on yours as he wraps his arms around you. The water covers your bodies and he closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your skin against his, knowing you’re alive and safe with him. He doesn’t need to say a word, you understand him more than he knows and you wrap your arms around his waist. Joel doesn’t know how long he stands there until he pulls his head back and surges forward to press his lips to yours, wanting to feel more of you.

If it surprises you that he kisses you, you don’t show it. Just immediately opening up and moaning into his mouth as his tongue wipes against yours. You need this, you crave feeling close to him. Scared and unsure of what would happen next. Your hands slide up his back and tangle into his now wet hair.

He spins you around, pushing you up against the cool tile as the water hits his back and his hand slides up from your waist to squeeze your breast, loving the way you moan into his mouth and he cups your cheek with his free hand, keeping your lips on his while he pinches your nipple.

“Joel!” You gasp out, cunt clenching and you are already dripping. Your fingers tighten into his hair and you pull slightly, loving how he hisses into your mouth. You can feel him grow harder against your hip and you rock against it.

He groans and kisses along your jaw, his hand sliding lower until he’s cupping your cunt, loving how wet you are already and he’s barely touched you. He slides his fingers through your folds until he’s rubbing your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name again.

You whimper, closing your eyes and leaning back against the shower stall as he rubs your clit. “Fuck.” You pant out. “You’re so good at this, fuck you always know how to touch me.”

He watches you as he rubs your clit, loving the way your mouth falls open and he slides his hand back until he can push two fingers into you, wanting to make sure you’re ready for him. “Tell me you’re mine.” He murmurs, wanting to hear it from your lips.

“Oh god.” Your eyes roll back. “I’m yours baby, fuck, I’m yours. I’m always yours.” You promise breathlessly. “All yours.” Shuddering, your walls clench down around his fingers and you bite your lip.

He loves and hates hearing you say that. Knowing that he doesn’t deserve you. The things he’s done…he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, to have you like this. He works his fingers a little faster, twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. “That’s right, baby. Mine. Gonna - gonna keep you safe.” He promises, leaning in to bite along your jaw.

You whimper his name quietly. “Gonna keep you safe too.” You moan, knowing that you will do whatever necessary to watch his back and keep him with you. Obviously you can’t stay here by yourself, so you’re pretty sure he’s bringing you with him out west. “Give you comfort. A place to lose yourself.”

Joel nods, his cock hard against your hip as he pushes against you, seeking friction. “So good to me, baby. Can I fuck you?” He asks, wanting to make sure. He’s not in the club anymore. This isn’t an environment with already agreed consent. You need to tell him if you want him inside of you.

“Please.” You beg, needing the closeness, the familiarity of him. Needing the release of his control over your body. “You can always fuck me. Anytime, anyway you need, daddy.” You whisper the word and give him a moderately innocent look.

His groan echoes against the tiles as he looks into your eyes, seeing the devotion and it spurs him on. “Joel. Call me Joel, baby. We ain’t in the club. I’m gonna take real good care of you.” He promises, curling his fingers inside of you.

“Joel.” Your moan of his name echoes in the shower. Seemingly louder than normal even though you’ve screamed his name before. Your hips lurch forward when he pulls his fingers back, craving them inside you. Loving how he stretches you out.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum on my fingers like you’ve done before? Always so good for me.” He murmurs, pressing his thumb against your clit a little harder. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands quietly, yet his voice is like steel.

Your legs are shaking, The fact that you are pinned to the wall with his body is the only reason that you are still standing. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, feeling the tension curling even tighter in your stomach until it snaps. “Jooooooeeeeellllll!” You wail his name, feeling the white hot pleasure race down your spin.

He loves the way you wail his name, thighs trapping his hand as he tries to work you through your orgasm, loving the way you shake and clench around his digits. “That’s it. That’s it. Jesus, you get so goddamn tight.” He hisses, pre-cum smearing on the skin of your hip.

You pant, not even able to respond because you are so breathless. No one has ever made you feel as good as Joel has. “Just for you, baby.” You manage after a few moments, moaning when he finally slips his fingers out of you. “Fuck me.” You beg. “Pussy, ass, whatever you want. I just need you inside me.”

He wants to make you cum around him. Pushing you back against the tiles, he grabs your leg and rests your foot on the edge of the bench that is kept in the shower, spreading your legs for him. He grips his cock and slides the head through your folds until he notches himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push into you with a low groan of your name.

It’s so slow it brings tears to your eyes. Feeling him slowly fill you up. Chasing away the emptiness inside you. It’s exquisite and all you can do is moan his name like it’s the only word you know.

He can’t say anything. Not wanting to be dominant over you, he only wants to touch you right now. Assure him that you’re alive and that you are here with him. He groans as he rocks into you.

Joel is so different this time. There’s no harsh demanding thrusts, the pace makes you ache like you never have before. Feeling every ridge of the length slowly pulling out and then rocking back into you. It’s enough that you wish you could stay locked in this moment forever.

His hands trail over your body, his hand squeezing your tit and he leans in to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth with an intensity that should terrify him. His fingers pinch your nipple and he wants you to cum for him.

You let Joel set the mood. Following him where he wants to lead you and moaning every time he bottoms out inside your cunt. “Joel.” You pant softly. “Please- I- fuck, I love this.”

He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he should be struggling with saying those words to you but it’s true. You’ve seen the darkest parts of him and you still want him. He loses himself when he’s with you in the best way possible.

You sigh in relief, so scared of saying those words. “I love you too.” You promise. “I love you, only you. Always you since the first time I met you.”

He murmurs your name, loving how you confess your feelings. He already knew but to hear it has his chest tightening. “Fuck, I- I want you to cum for me.” He pleads gruffly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit as he pushes his cock deep inside of you.

“Joel, baby.” You whimper his name again. Your eyes flutter closed and your hips chase the friction against your clit. You’re so close, chest heaving and you feel yourself come apart with a loud cry of pleasure while stars burst behind your eyes.

He grunts as your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses as your nails dig into the back of his neck, making him twitch inside of you as he tries to work you through your orgasm. “That’s it baby. Fuck. I- gotta pull out.” He murmurs, knowing he can’t get you pregnant. It’s a deathwish. You hate that he has to pull out, wishing you had that condom. When he rocks his hips back, you wrap your fingers around his cock and start to pump. “Cum for me, baby.” You beg, leaning in and pressing your lips to his jaw. “Cum for me, my love.”

Joel hisses at your touch and your words, his cock twitching in your hand, and he grunts, turning his head to press his lips to yours as he starts to cum, spurting over your lower stomach and hand as he paints your skin with hot seed.

“That’s it, baby.” You murmur softly, stroking him through his orgasm until he’s just pulsing in your hand. “Fuck, you look so good like that. I love you.”

He pants against your lips, kissing you softly as you work him through it until he's starting to soften in your hands. "I fuckin' love you. Gonna keep you safe." He promises, knowing he'd risk his life to keep you safe. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he cups your cheeks, silently praying he can keep his vow.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and trauma, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 6

No matter how hard you tried to block the bond, Azriel was practically shoving all his feelings to you. Anger, disappointment and resentment.

“Yeah I know how you feel about me shut up” you screamed hoping he could hear you. You shook your head and chuckled.

I’m going mad. Look at me I’m alone in my bedroom screaming. You thought.

Nah that’s just the effect Azriel has on anyone.

You froze. Did your brain just reply to you? Your brain is male?

No darling I’m not your brain. You are practically screaming all your thoughts for every daemati in Prythian to hear.

Rhysand?

Yeah, since you destroyed my peaceful nap why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?

You huffed.

Azriel is bothering me. I don’t want that stupid bond. I don’t want to be tied to a male now that I’m taking control of my life.

Azriel would never try to control you, on the contrary he would love to help you become stronger and independent.

He didn’t comment on the bond, so he already knew you figured.

He resents me, and even if he didn’t how could I be with a male that treated me like shit ever since I stepped foot in your court.

That’s between the two of you. Now next time you decide to think so loudly please raise a shield around your mind I really need my beauty sleep.

You snorted at that, and a smile appeared on your lips.

How do I do that?

Think of a wall around your mind.

Okay thank you.

I hope everything works out for the two of you.

You didn’t reply.

You glanced outside and noticed the sun setting. You realized that you had stayed in your room for the whole day and with a sigh you got ready.

You peeked your head out of your room checking for any sign of Azriel, when you were sure that he wasn’t lurking around you stepped out and started walking down the hall. You found the door of the house quite easily and stepped outside.

10.000 steps. I can do this.

You started walking down the stairs, at some point you lost count of the steps, you were panting, and your knees trembled.

I can do this.

You gritted your teeth and forced yourself further down. Black dots appeared in your vision, and you felt yourself slipping, you tried to grab the stones around you but you couldn’t hold on. You closed your eyes waiting for the impact. Something hard hit your back and then strong arms wrapped around your waist. You opened your eyes again and you were in the air. Azriel’s scent of cedar and whiskey filled your nostrils and your body relaxed automatically.

When your feet touched the ground of the main street of Velaris Azriel gripped your elbow and turned you, so you were facing him. His face was filled with anger as he stared down at you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He growled.

“I just wanted to go for a stroll in the city, I didn’t want to bother any of you.” You confessed. Your voice steady and loud and you kept your eyes on his as you spoke.

“Did you really believe that you could go down 10.000 steps?” He exclaimed and threw his hands in the air making some faes look at the two of you.

“I don’t know I just wanted to try” you glanced at the ground as you realized how stupid it was.

“Next time find one of us, and if you can’t just pull the bond” he was calm now. His hand moved to your face, and he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you” you smiled and stared into his eyes.

He held your stare and you both stood there frozen for a few minutes. Nesta’s words replayed in your mind making your heart clench. You took a step back and cleared your throat.

“I should go, you probably have more important things to do” you said and hurried off before Azriel could reply.

You strolled around the city, smiling at the small children who were running around the streets. You found Rita’s easily and stepped inside, your eyes immediately scanning the bar searching for Aeden. You spotted him and walked to the bar, taking a stool and sitting right in front of him.

“Do I expect the lovely company of the shadowsinger too or just you?” he quirked a brow.

“Just me” you smiled.

“Okay then” he returned your smile. “Mood?”

“Hm definitely better than the last time” you replied.

He grabbed two bottles and filled two glasses, he grabbed a straw and stirred, placing it in his mouth when he was done and tasting. He hummed and placed one of the glasses in front of you, keeping the other for him.

“Did I get you in trouble with the shadowsinger?” he asked with a worried expression.

“Not at all, he just took me home and let me sleep” you shrugged.

“Okay then.” he replied and then stared at you. “I don’t think that this was how a babysitter would act…”

“I know. He is my mate” you replied, and Aeden choked on his drink.

“You could fucking start with that” he exclaimed. “You tell me that you have a babysitter and never mention that said babysitter is the fucking god of death, and now you let me speak about him without mentioning that he is your mate” his voice was practically a high pitch noise at the end of the sentence.

“God of death?” you furrowed your eyebrows and Aeden nodded.

“Anyway, I didn’t think it was important, I’m going to reject him” you shrugged.

“Why?”

“You just called him the fucking god of death and now you’re asking me why?” you snorted.

“You females love dark and dangerous males.” He replied.

“True, but only when they treat us differently than everyone else. In my case this doesn’t happen, he is making my life a nightmare.”

“But…why?” Aeden’s face was filled with confusion.

“I don’t really know. I suppose he doesn’t like the way I was raised, and he thinks I’m weak.”

“That’s not a valid reason” he shook his head.

“I know!” you huffed “What about you? Do you have a mate?”

“My mate died in the war with the king of Hybern” Aeden frowned. “He was an Illyrian warrior.”

“He?” you asked with wide eyes.

“Yup, my mate was a male”.

“I didn’t know this was possible” you said.

“Two males falling in love?” Aeden quirked his brow.

“No, I know this can happen, being mates I meant” you explained.

“Oh yeah I didn’t know either.” He shrugged. “So you prefer the company of males, or it was just the bond?” your question was genuine, and Aeden smiled.

“Trying to get into my pants dollface?” he asked and chuckled by your shocked expression. “I like both males and females so you might actually have a chance” he winked. You shook your head with a grin.

“But if I was in your place, I wouldn’t lose the opportunity to get that shadowsinger into my bed. He is so fucking hot” he continued.

“Tell me about it” you mumbled and then gasped, your hand shooting up and covering your mouth.

Aeden burst into laughter at your confession and clapped his hands.

“Shut up” you whined and hid your face with your hands.

You stayed with Aeden for a few hours and when the club filled with faes you kissed him goodbye and left. You really enjoyed your time with him. You walked around the city with a smile on your face, happy that you made a new friend. As the night settled for good you reached the first steps of the house of wind and glared at them.

One day. You thought and glanced up.

You didn’t want to tug the bond in case Azriel was with Gwyn, you didn’t want to interrupt them especially if Gwyn has feelings for him. You ignored the ache in your chest at the thought and opened the shield around your mind.

Rhysand! You shouted.

You don’t have to shout. He whined.

Sorry, I need someone to take me to the house.

Okay.

The beating sound of wings filled the silence and Azriel landed in front of you.

“Rhysand called me” he explained when he noticed your confusion.

The first buttons of his shirt were undone, his toned chest on display and his hair a tangled mess. You bit your lip and removed your gaze from him. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to interrupt” you said.

“Interrupt what?” he asked.

“Whatever you were doing.” You replied and stepped closer. He picked you up and shot to the sky. When you landed you quickly removed yourself from his arms and walked inside.

“You’ve been drinking” he noted.

“Yeah I was at Rita’s”

A low growl escaped his throat.

“With that bartender?” he asked, and you snorted. The nerve that male has.

“How’s Gwyn?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Azriel stared at you with a confused look.

“Okay I guess?” he replied, “How is that relevant?”

“Forget about it” you sighed and started walking towards your room.

“Why did you ask me about Gwyn?” he pressed following you.

“Because I know you’re fucking her.” You shouted.

“What?” his eyes narrowed “even if I did, its none of your business”.

“The same goes about who I am fucking”.

In a blink Azriel had you pressed against the wall , his face inches away from yours and his shadows covering both of you. You could only see, feel and smell him, nothing else.

“Are you fucking him?” he snarled.

“Its none of your business” you smirked surprising both you and him. “Answer me” he yelled and punched the wall beside your head. The spot on the wall collapsed and you flinched. His face became red and his eyes watered.

“Fucking answer me” he yelled again, and a few tears escaped.

You gaped at him. You couldn’t understand why he was acting like that.

“Azriel you’re scaring me” you whispered.

He stared into your eyes for a few seconds and pushed himself off you. He gestured at your door, and you walked in shutting and locking it.

You leaned against the door and closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself.

You heard a small thud, and the door shook slightly. You felt his presence through the bond and realized that he was leaning against the door too.

What’s happening? You thought and a tear escaped.

If I forgot to tag someone please let me know! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore , @pinksmellslikelove , @bunnyredgirl , @lectoracronica , @tuggboatfishin , @sunnysideup000 , @blessthepizzaman , @universevsd , @raisinggray , @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy , @tsunami-of-tears , @just-a-social-casualty-1 , @thelov3lybookworm , @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars

[impval]

do you wanna feel how it feels? 

Cate Dunlap x fem! empath reader Warnings: implication of abuse, loss of arm, attempted suicide.

The fact that it even had a name; phantom pain...

As if the pain wasn't real. A figment of her imagination, her brain conjuring up something that didn't exist.

The fucking pain wasn't imagined. It was real. It didn't just hurt either. It itched. A deep rooted sort of itch, like an unshakable desire to scratch the pain away with her good hand—only, every time her fingers made contact with the stump, the burning pain intensified, and she would almost burst from the sudden pain and the urge not to cry.

Cate learned quickly, and she always had been a fast learner in all aspects of life. Maybe she deserved this life, too. Cate had hurt people. Even before Marie blew her arm off. And she only felt bad about those situations because it effected her in some way, didn't it? She was selfish.

She needed control—total, unfiltered control. No friends, no family, no lovers. No one got close enough to hurt her, and for as long as she could remember, those were the people who did her the most damage. 

She made the choice of control, and this time, she was sticking to it. Cate almost didn't recognize herself, anymore.

They made her a monster, so let her act like one.

Sam obeyed her every command, and at first, Cate thought this was what she wanted; the thrill of control gave her satisfaction—purpose, maybe? The closest thing she'd ever feel to not-being-alone.

But eventually, she just got bored.

She didn't believe it until she read it in the news; Marie and Jordan are out. All the others managed to flee (so are you). Their faces on every television and newspaper in the country.

Cate, initially, thought nothing of it. Or, rather, she tried to. Why should she care? But then a darker part, one that had been slowly growing—spreading inside her (like a cancer) felt an odd sense of dread.

It was a simple order: find the fugitives, bring them back.

The idea of recapturing her old friends gave Cate no satisfaction, but she was Vought's "property". They owned her, and if they said catch Marie and the others, that was what she'd do.

You were empath. There was no shutting down the feelings of others for you. It was like a constant flood, the emotions of people surrounding you always pounding in your skull. Your power was hard to balance. It was a lot for you to handle at times; all the raw emotions of those around you—you could hardly process your own.

A touch for a moment, and you could change someone for some time. Make them feel like they were on top of the world, or the most pathetic person walking. You hated this side of your power.

Marie was nice, but her fear was obvious even without your powers. Jordan was her feral dog - always with suspicion in their eyes. You were useful to them. But they knew you could feel the worst of their emotions, every dark secret and secret desire. It was too much for them to take, and they tried to keep their guard up.

You didn't even think about fighting back when Cate reached for you, gripping your wrist in her hand tightly.

You were so overwhelmed by the raw feelings she was exuding that it left you stunned. It's strange to feel another person so clearly. You let her take you, your senses full of her emotions; an unpleasant mixture of triumph and disgust and bitterness and shame. And beneath it all, desperation, and a sick sort of loneliness.

She was suspicious, of course. Despite how you probably felt about her, and what she'd done, you weren't angry. You didn't even look afraid of her.

You let her ask you questions—about where the others were, where they might be headed—anything and everything she wanted to know. You couldn't help but wince at how intense she was—one second anger, the next second fear—it was like trying to keep up with a hurricane, you couldn't understand how she could even function.

The realization of it feels like being doused in cold water, ice running down the back of her neck, as Cate processes exactly what that means. An empath. Fuck. Her mind spins. Of course. Why else would you look at her that way? Now that, that is interesting. "Well, if that isn't a delightful surprise," she murmurs, fingers idly tracing along your jaw, as Cate processes this sudden turn of events. "You know," she hums, the words soft against your ear. "That makes us two of a kind, then."

She can't imagine what it's like, to feel the feelings of others. It sounds exhausting, overwhelming even. Cate's only ever had to deal with her own emotions, her own darkness. But having to feel everyone else's as well—it's too much.

She had never encountered anybody with a power similar to hers, before. It's almost hard for her to believe.

She gets how lonely that sort of existence is.

It’s all too familiar to her—all the times she’s been rejected, told that she wasn’t good enough for someone else. It was the main reason she ended up taking control, forcing people to be with her.

The words that fall from your mouth wash over her. Cate can only imagine how it must have been, the emotions battering against your mind and soul, overwhelming and crushing, like drowning in a sea of thoughts and feelings. 

Your powers really are just reflections of each other.

You could never forget how terrifying it was to be a teenager and start feeling everything others around you felt. You thought you were crazy, losing your mind—and you would've given anything, anything to just make it stop.

Just for a moment. Just to get a bit of peace.

You say that the thoughts of suicide are in the past, but she can see the exhaustion on your face. As if you're carrying a weight that's far too heavy for what anyone should bear.

It makes her chest ache for you — because she understands, she knows.

She swallows, hands clenching into fists as she pictures it in her mind. You alone in a room, overwhelmed by the feelings of countless other people. And there was no escape, for it was your own power that caused it. You never got a break from it.

Her eyes linger on the scars, and she knows with certainty what they are, just by looking.

Cate reaches for your wrist again, this time her touch gentle, her fingers tracing along the scars with the slightest touch. It’s a soft, tender movement, so incredibly different from how she is to everyone else.

And the thought occurs to her—you could have been the same as her. You saw people, you felt people, you knew people. It was the same.

She hates that you’ve felt the same kind of pain, of loneliness, that she has. Hates that you’ve had to suffer through the same struggles that she has. It sounds like hell, what you’re explaining—an endless wave of emotion that relentlessly crashes over you with no way to stop it. A life where you feel other's pain like your own, like torture.

Cate hated how gentle your eyes were, how you looked at her like you still saw something good and sweet inside of her, even after everything she had done.

She shouldn't feel touched, or understood, or seen. She needed to push you away, keep herself from letting you in.

You two were so similar, and yet, so different. Though in the most basic sense, your abilities were the same—manipulation, and the reading of others. You were driven by logic, always thinking. Cate could be impulsive and irrational, making decisions based on emotion and feeling. She had no regard for the consequences of her actions, until they came back to bite her in the ass.

She wants to be with others, she craves to be loved—and yet, she's too scared to allow herself to get close to anyone. Too scared to let anyone hurt her, too scared to open herself up and give them the power. You see how deeply she craves some kind of connection with another person, even though she always pushes them away.

It was almost like fate that brought you both here. Your powers were similar, and you both understood. You were both forced to live a life of feeling others, of feeling them constantly around you, all the time.

Being in each other’s presence was comforting, it was a relief to be by someone who knew exactly what you were going through.

Neither of you were good at hiding what you felt—not that you could, with your powers. You both saw and felt so much. But that made it easy, in a way.

You both knew how much pain and suffering you could cause with a single touch. With you, she could touch you as much as she wanted, let her hand linger on your skin, and know she wouldn't have to worry about you. She could pull you into her lap, and press her face into your neck, and never let go. And you'd let her, more than let her.

She held you when you couldn’t find the strength to move, when you were almost shaking from the onslaught of emotions. You couldn't breathe, couldn't even think—but she never let you panic for too long.

With her, you wanted to be protective. You wanted to keep her safe, keep her close and take care of her. You wanted to help her with her past, with the memories that made her so cold all the time.

You held her just as closely, whispering in her ear when her arm ached and burned with pain. You stroked her back and told her it was alright, the pain would pass.

It was almost like seeing a mirror image. You were two sides of the same weird and twisted coin. It was unhealthy, but you wanted it and needed it.

All you could think of was each other, holding each other through the chaos. The only thing that mattered was each other and being close, protecting one another.

You were both a bit broken, a bit twisted, a little messed up. But to hell with that, you had each other.

All of her touches are so gentle. She's scared that you'll break, scared that if she holds too hard, she'll somehow make you vanish. You reach up and cup her face, feeling the emotions behind her touch. The need, the longing, and the ever-present loneliness. She closed her eyes and leaned into your touch.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Taking Care

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit, RAPE/NON-CON

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi and Shigaraki didn't start their working relationship off on the best foot, and to be perfectly honest, his view of his new boss isn't exactly favorable. But Shigaraki does seem to be trying to do better by the League, and him, in his own way. It's probably not his fault that he was socialized to be a total creep too. Dabi really shouldn't have given him the benefit of the doubt.

Contents: RAPE/NON-CON, brief descriptions of violence and vomiting, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, non-consensual body modification, natural lubrication, anal sex, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, creampie, brief feminization, molestation, abusive relationships, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, yandere!Shigaraki, dead dove: do not eat

Word Count: 10871

He is never gonna say that he 'hit it off' with the boss when they first met. Though, Dabi will say that's in part to the fact he could very clearly tell that Shigaraki wasn't the boss. He was just another over-confident jackass who had a bigger villain actually calling the shots from the shadows, and Dabi can't stand working with people like that. The guy's fucking second was giving him orders and trying to coach him into making smarter choices in his villainy and stepped in and stopped their fight before they could even really get started, and Dabi was left with a bad taste in his mouth and with the constant thought that the boss was a little pathetic. But the League was offering room and board, and a chance to fuck with UA again, even targeting his father's perfect creation, and Dabi had stuck around anyway. 

And for a month, his image of who Shigaraki was did not get any more flattering. He was absolutely a puppet for AFO and a spoiled brat on top of that. He felt entitled to anything he wanted and no one had ever told him 'no' or had shown him how that wasn't how the world actually worked. Well. It's not how the world is supposed to work, but Shigaraki does get whatever he wants as long as he proves to AFO he actually put at least a tiny crumb of effort into why he wants whatever it is that he's asking after. Dabi hates that too, but he keeps his mouth shut. The rest of the League is made of people so clearly desperate for somewhere to belong, and wanting to ensure their youngest members aren't exposed to the truly heinous parts of this world, that they are softening the work for them and trying to grow into a close-knit crew. But Dabi doesn't have the time or any interest in that bullshit. If he's joining a crew backed by AFO it's all going to be in service of ensuring that he burns Endeavor alive. He doesn't bother 'bonding' with the rest of them, he just works to ensure that he gets what he wants out of this arrangement. 

He feels like that might be happening when Shigaraki ends up making him the leader for the summer camp job. He isn't sure why he chose him over Compress, but he doesn't give a shit if it means he gets to be in control of how they hit the camp and who they go after primarily. He can make sure he's the one to see Shoto. The downside of all of this is that he also has to spend long hours planning with Shigaraki. They do most of it after the others have cleared out or gone to bed for the night, assessing their skills during the day, and planning around them at night where they don't have to worry about them confusing brainstorming for their final orders. Dabi doesn't love spending hours with Duster at night, but at least when they aren't being watched by AFO or Kurogiri, Shigaraki forces himself to behave a bit better. He acts more like an adult and less like the teenager he still is. 

It's during one of those late night planning sessions Dabi stretches, cracking his back, and feels his shirt ride up a bit. When he glances back, he can see that Duster is watching him. It's automatic to flip him off as he speaks, "What are you staring at, handjob?" 

"How far do your scars go?" And Shigaraki, among many other things, is incredibly blunt, so Dabi really isn't surprised that he'd asked. 

"None of your business, weirdo." They're sitting at the bar and he's ready to get up and head to bed, the two of them having gotten to a good stopping point for the night, when Shigaraki leans over and cages Dabi against the edge. He automatically tries to twist away, his temperature spiking hotter, as four cool fingers brush his side and start to push up his shirt. "What the fuck--" 

"Hold still or I may slip." Shigaraki's voice is flat and almost bored as he slides Dabi's shirt up his chest and side, red eyes dragging over him, far too intense for the tone he'd used. Dabi goes stock still as his deadly hand moves up his body until his shirt is pressed up beneath his arm, and Shigaraki hums, the other palm moving over his skin. He doesn't know what the other wants from him but he really doesn't want to end up dead because he's careless with his quirk. "You're already so damaged--" Dabi didn't know he could bristle any further, but he feels smoke and sparks behind his tongue as he grits his teeth. "If I don't know how bad it is, then I can't help make sure it doesn't get any worse." He brushes his thumb gently over one of the lines of staples curving over his side, and Dabi's anger, his breath, catches in the back of his throat. 

That's what this is? Concern? Some deeply weird, fucked up version of it from how poorly socialized Shigaraki is, but still. Concern all the same. Duster's hand moves over his chest, flicking his thumb over his nipple with a little snort as he does, sending an uncomfortable twinge across his nerves as the piercing there makes him so sensitive the bud hardens immediately. He only has three fingers against him then, and Dabi feels safe enough to bat away the touch. 

"Hands off, freak. I don't need you to take care of me. I know what I can handle." 

"I'm going to take care of you anyway." Shigaraki tells him without a hint of irony. "So you can tell me what you need, or I can figure it out for myself." He doesn't stop Dabi as he straightens his shirt and slips from the stool, fully intending to go upstairs and get stoned before going to sleep. 

"Whatever." He doesn't want Shigaraki, AFO, or the League to know anything about him. It'll just make it harder to escape them if he decides they aren't his best option in the long run. He heads upstairs and Shigaraki doesn't stop him. 

///

After that, though, he starts to notice little things that change around the base. Only he and the vampire kid are living here for the time being, and he really doubts she's the one who put a fancy antibiotic wound cream in the medicine cabinet of their shared bathroom, sitting right next to his toothbrush. For a second, out of sheer stubbornness, Dabi considers ignoring it. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he doesn't need a brat like Shigaraki thinking that he's reliant on him for anything. But the logical part of his mind knows that he should take whatever help he can get. The whole point of being here is to get strong enough to kill his father. If he wants to do that then having his skin falling off is only going to make it more difficult. 

He starts to use the wound cream and realizes over the course of a week and the wave of exhaustion and relief that comes in its wake, that keeping his body at a low fever was only keeping weak infections at bay. They were still there and fighting to really make him sick for, well, he's guessing it's been a long time. But the medicine actually kills them and starts to let him heal a bit. Which, in turn, makes him fucking exhausted and starving all the time. He's been trying to eat better here now that he has access to non-spoiled food readily all the time, but he has an appetite for the first time since he was a kid. 

And he doesn't mention that, doesn't usually eat around the others, but he starts to notice the fridge and pantry is stocked with more and more every week. Healthy things, for the most part, but tons of protein bars, fruit, and the like, some of which he recognizes as brands that his father and other heroes endorsed because they helped them to put on and maintain a healthy weight and muscle mass. Dabi is thin as a rail, a side-effect from three years in a coma and seven starving on the streets, but maybe... maybe he can put on a little more muscle if he takes advantage of this. So he uses his phone to look up how to recover from long-term malnutrition and how to safely get his body used to a calorie surplus instead of a deficit. 

And about two weeks after Shigaraki felt him up while they were alone, he tells the entire group that they have a doctor-- the one who makes nomu, but is apparently a real doctor during office hours-- who is happy to see them all for check-ups. Dabi wants to be annoyed about that, but Magne perks up immediately and asks when the soonest she can get in is. So maybe, just maybe, this isn't actually Duster taking the opportunity to show him that he absolutely meant what he said before. Maybe he just actually wants to make sure they're in better condition than the first group he took to UA was. 

It doesn't mean he isn't acutely aware of how smug Shigaraki seems when Twice is bitching a few weeks later as he re-takes Dabi's measurements, the old ones no longer sufficient because of how much healthier he's gotten since he took them before. 

///

Hitting the summer camp is exhilarating. Getting to overcome forty students and six pros with a crew of nine outshines whatever the fuck Shigaraki had been trying to do in his original debut. Being able to snatch their main target and getting to stand there and watch his brother, his father's perfect creation, desperate and failing, had put a delight under his skin he wouldn't have words for if he ever were asked to describe it. But he locks that away and acts as unaffected as he always strives for, especially with AFO breathing down their neck as they get back to base. 

They get the kid situated, debrief, prep for the next steps of their plan, and try to get some rest. Even without three of their number returning, it was a resounding success as far as their leader and his teacher are concerned. 

And when that all falls apart, Dabi is out for the majority of the fight. 

He wakes up, his head throbbing, the room spinning, and desperately needing to puke, which he does almost immediately, barely managing to roll onto his side to keep from choking on it, and definitely splashing the side of Duster's sneaks with sick. But he doesn't get decayed for that. Shig just gives him a tissue from his coat pocket and reaches over for a water bottle. He doesn't have any pain medicine, not that Dabi expected that given they're hiding out in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse, but it would have been a nice surprise. He sits up a little, and Shigaraki helps him, one hand staying at the back of his neck, palm cool, and thumb rubbing soothing circles there like that could help take away the ache in his skull. 

Dabi swishes the first sip around in his mouth and spits further away from them to clear the taste before actually drinking some of the water and wiping up his mouth. "Sorry," because he might not like the guy most of the time, but he doesn't hate him enough to think he deserves to get puked on when he clearly got him out of getting arrested while he was knocked out. "What happened?" 

Duster reaches over and sticks a hand into Dabi's coat pocket, which even through his headache, sends a mixture of amusement and annoyance through him, before he draws out his cigs. And yeah, fine, he could definitely use one of those too. He sets a spark on his finger and lights up for them both, and Shigaraki actually takes his mask off so he can smoke before he starts to speak. 

///

Which is how the kind of good thing that the League had going, turns to absolute shit. He doesn't hesitate to stress that them traveling in a big group like this is going to make it damn near impossible for them to actually move without being spotted, and since they're currently going to be on a cross-country tour to try and find someone who will actually give them an ounce of the resources that AFO promised to his supposed successor, splitting up is their best option. If he does this entirely so he can make sure he is as far away from the rest of them as possible as they get a taste of the way that he's been living for the past seven years, then that's his business. But Shigaraki only lets him go under the guise of 'recruiting', like they could get anyone that wasn't complete trash to join up with them now. 

But that's what he's off doing when Shigaraki calls him in the middle of the night. He killed a few potential recruits today, using his flames to burn their heads from their shoulders, and going through their pockets yielded him enough cash to get a motel for the night and a real meal, so he's honestly doing better than he has been for a while, and it's deeply tempted to not answer his phone and just enjoy the rest of his night in limited luxury. But when the first call goes to voicemail, it immediately starts ringing again so he huffs and snags it off the sheets, cig between his lips and taking a deep pull before he answers, 

"What, Shigaraki?"

There's a slight pause and then he hears Shigaraki let out a slow, low breath. "Magne's dead."

And Dabi is suddenly a lot less annoyed with the call. 

Shig explains what happened, Twice not communicating with him or Duster, Overhaul being more than they thought they were getting involved with, Magne and Compress rushing in to defend the group, and Magne being splattered all across the warehouse. It sounds horrifying and all, and the group is apparently using the last of their funds on a back alley medic for Compress so that he doesn't bleed out or die of an infection. 

"What about after?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Once Compress is stable-- What are you doing after?" There's another pause and Dabi feels his temperature starting to creep a bit higher. "The fucking dregs of the Yakuza just killed and injured members of your crew-- if anyone finds out about that after the shitshow you and your teacher put on in Kamino, then we are all fucked. The League has already lost almost all of our credibility after you used us to build it up again after your first fuckup at UA." 

"Dabi--" And he can hear him scratching at his skin, can hear that venom starting to build in his voice that usually precedes one of his temper tantrums. But Dabi isn't Kurogiri or All For One, and he's not in this game to cater to anyone else's ego ever again. 

"Shut the fuck up." He snaps before the other can get going, and the hiss of his voice actually does stop the other man in his tracks. "You're the leader, no more 'second tries', no more 'do-overs', no more fucking training wheels. You either figure out how to fucking lead this group, do what you fucking said you were going to, and be worth our time-- or you cut us loose, Shigaraki. We aren't just characters in your games that you can move around however you feel like. We're your crew, you have a responsibility to take care of us and when you don't-- Your actions have consequences, and it's about fucking time you grow up and start acting like it." He doesn't even wait to see how that lands. He hangs up, turns off his phone, and goes to take a cold shower before he literally sets himself on fire again from his fury. 

///

He doesn't hear from Shigaraki or the rest of the League for nearly a month. Instead he gives up on the pretense of recruiting for the League, goes back to his old haunts and takes whatever arson jobs he can get. Unsurprisingly, after word has spread about what he did at the summer camp, he has a lot more opportunities for those kinds of jobs than he did before. Dabi doesn't like that this is what he's left doing, but he will do whatever he needs to in order to survive. He just didn't think he would be back in survival mode so soon. He thought that he was finally setting himself up to be the monster he always promised his father he would come back as. But he is making due. As fucking always. 

He probably should have ditched the phone that he was given, but he figures that if Shigaraki is so useless, then it's unlikely that he'll have gotten back any of the resources he needs in order to use it to track him. And he's not in the position to throw out a perfectly good phone when he's still squatting in abandoned buildings for at least three nights a week when he can't find or afford a shady enough motel to stay in. Dabi is in an empty apartment building, glass and worse is scattered across the first floor, and the the windows are all boarded up, but he has a pretty good idea of when a building has been in disrepair for long enough that it's likely to fall on his head, and he figures it's safe enough to go up a few levels. He almost laughs when he finds a door someone locked that whoever went through the place and cleared out, didn't bother to open, and he melts the handle right off and goes inside. The lock and whatever fear of the upper levels other people had, kept this room from being trashed, and he throws his backpack into a corner of the one room that has carpet. It's not much, but he'll be happy to have something soft under him besides his coat. 

He's settling in for the night, a protein bar shoved between his teeth as he uses his hand-crank battery pack so that his phone will be able to charge while he's sleeping, when said device begins to ring. It does that occasionally, but it's usually someone contacting him for a new arson job. This is the first time he's seen Shigaraki's name appear on his caller ID in ages. Dabi sincerely considers not bothering to answer him. It's an impulse, a whim, maybe a little bit of hubris because he's curious to see if Duster is calling to grovel for him to come back because everything's falling apart even worse since he left, but he answers anyway.

"What do you want, Shigaraki?"

"Dabi," And Shig sounds a little breathless for a second, and Dabi is about to hang up because if he is being chased down by heroes or something, Dabi is going to burn his phone and chuck it out of the nearest window. "I've been working on making sure that the League gets reparations for what happened to Magne and Compress. We're on the verge of using the heroes to destroy the Yakuza and obtaining a new weapon that is capable of destroying quirks." He takes a breath and continues, more evenly, "In two days we're going to destroy the last of the Yakuza on a public stage, we can do that without you, but I want you with me."

There's something about the intensity in his voice, something that eclipses anything that he heard from him in Kamino, and the part of his mind that has been looking out and trying to protect him since he ended up on the streets, stirs restlessly in the back of his mind. But the more immediate part of him is curious, if nothing else. "How exactly are you gonna do that, Duster?"

And Shigaraki starts to explain his plan and what the League have been up to in his absence.

///

Two days later he is warring with the exhilaration in his body from putting on such a display, seeing Shigaraki and Compress tear Overhaul's arms off, and the constant, and heavy motion sickness that keeps going through him from Spinner's awful driving. It's really a lot, and he's so glad that when they lose the cops and teleport to the base that Shigaraki and the others have been using-- an empty administration building on the edge of an abandoned warehouse district that has two shower stalls in the boys and girls' bathrooms and that they've scrounged around to find any vague cushioned furniture so they would have something better than the floor to sleep on-- Toga and Twice really do want to go shower and recenter themselves after a month undercover in a high-stress environment before the League celebrates the end of such a long plan that's finally come to fruition. Spinner goes to ditch the car and Compress goes to use his still lightning fast sticky-fingers, and his maskless face to go steal them some libations and food for the celebration. Which means he somehow ends up 'alone' with Shigaraki. 

He hasn't been alone with Shigaraki since he walked into this shitty little hideout yesterday afternoon, and that had been kind of by design. He still doesn't know what to think about the fact that the rest of the League treated him like he's been out trying to recruit and gather resources for the group this whole time, like he didn't just fully abandon them and make his own way when he realized how utterly fucked they would be under Shigaraki's leadership without AFO at least funding them in their downtime to make that worth it. He is fully planning on just going into the corner and taking a nap while Duster plays his game or something, when Shigaraki catches him with four fingers around his wrist. Dabi's temperature creeps up, ready to turn the hand into ash if he tries to close his fingers around his wrist. 

"Let go." 

"You're not going to leave again." He tells him, and Dabi is reminded again that he and the League are the first people Shigaraki has ever had to deal with who could say 'no' to him if they wanted to. He thinks this socially inept loser is actually asking him, maybe pleading, for him to stay after being down a valuable player for over a month. 

Dabi eyes him. Shigaraki isn't wearing his mask at the moment and his eyes are intense as they search his face. He pulls at his hand, and Shig's grip tightens for a second before he lets go. But his fingers follow his skin even as he pulls away, the pads of his fingers brushing down the back of his hand. "Depends on if you can make this arrangement worth my time again." 

"I'll be worth it." He promises. "I'll take care of you." 

The intensity of the words makes something in him wary, but a larger part does feel some measure of smug satisfaction that his words, of all things, were what were able to snap Shigaraki from the pampered delusion of his youth. Good. Still. Dabi scoffs and rolls his eyes, going to claim the cushiest couch for himself. "Yeah? We'll see about that, Duster." He grumbles before getting on the couch and turning away from him. He fully intends to sleep while he can. The rest of the League hasn't figured out that they need to take rest whenever they can get it because at any second they could be on the run, but that's not his responsibility to teach them. 

Duster leaves him be as he curls up, but Dabi swears he feels his eyes on him the entire time it takes for him to actually pass out.

///

He does stick with the League after that. He isn't sure he meant to, but Shigaraki always keeps him close. He never lets on to the others that Dabi is always a split second from abandoning them, and they seem to think he's part of their big happy 'family'. He's only allowed to go out recruiting when the League is getting ready to leave a location, and then he meets up with hopefuls in an assigned location that Shigaraki has picked out, close enough for the League to be nearby, just in case he needs assistance. Dabi can't say he loves being babied, but he understands why Shigaraki and the rest of the League are so worried about him going off on his own. He just hopes they get over it soon as he burns another group of eight hopefuls to death. He uses the last of his flames to light a cig and starts to head down the alley. 

"Well, if that's the rejection process, I might have my work cut out for me." He doesn't recognize the voice immediately, and that means he isn't shy about sending a blast off in that direction so hot that he knows it can cause concrete to crumble. There's a blur of red and yellow and his eyes track it to the opposite end of the building, a blur that he is not happy about seeing is the number two hero lands there. He has his hands up in surrender as he crouches on the edge of the building, a dumb, goofy smile on his lips. "Whoa there, hot stuff! I came for a chat, and you're really gonna blow both our covers if you set fire to half of the street." 

"Back off hero, or I'll turn you into fried chicken." 

"That is my favorite food, but not really what I'm going for." He resituates himself on the edge of the building, sitting on the ledge and kicking his feet like he's got nothing to worry about. Like Dabi doesn't know that birds burn. "I was hoping we could have a chat about how interested the League of Villains would be in having a hero in their ranks." 

And Dabi knows heroes better than any of the League. He knows the awful things they get up to behind closed doors, he knows how corrupt the HPSC is, and he knows that no matter how talented he is, Hawks should have never climbed the charts so quickly after his debut, and definitely didn't do it without someone's help. "You want to join the League?" He wonders if the others are close enough today to hear that. 

"Sure do, hot stuff. I--" he definitely has his whole speech ready to go and whatever, but Dabi cuts him off. 

"Then you can go through our official channels and prove you’re worth my time." He takes a few steps forward, very clearly still heading to leave. "You start proving you want a working relationship by letting me fucking leave." And the bird's wings fluff a little, twitching with his agitation as this very clearly doesn't go the way he was trained to expect it would. Dabi raises a brow at him and ashes his cig. 

"And how do I go through your 'official' channels?" 

"If you're worth the League's time, then you'll figure that out like even those ash smears did, pigeon." He says blandly and starts to walk. 

Thankfully, Hawks lets him go, and Dabi makes sure he's lost his tail before he goes back to the others. 

///

He's not expecting Shigaraki to look half-crazed when he gets back to base, but as soon as he's inside, the other man is catching his wrist and dragging him right off into the nearest mostly private area in the base. Duster has gotten worse and worse about invading his personal space, but he doesn't put up a fight this time as he cages him up against a wall, eyes wide and desperate as they look at him like he doesn't know if Dabi is real. 

"You aren't going out on any more recruitment jobs, you're staying with me." 

"If I don't go out you're gonna have to send Twice, and we all know how well that went last time." He only lets himself be that cruel because he knows that no one else is around. "Besides, having a spy-- even an untrustworthy one-- could help us get access to more--" 

"No." And he has never heard or seen Shigaraki have such vitriol in a word, not even when talking about destroying All Might at the beginning. "He's the fastest hero in Japan. He could have killed you, he could have taken you away, I am not risking losing you, Dabi. We're leaving tonight, and you're going to stay close so that I can keep you safe." 

A part of Dabi really wants to protest that. He wants to snap at Shigaraki and tell him that he doesn't need to be watched like he can't take care of himself, but there's another part that can't help feeling a little... good from how protective Duster has been since he started to get his shit together. He may have swung hard in the opposite direction of treating the League like pawns, but the fact he changed his outlook at all means that he really is listening to them when they talk. He needs to find a happy medium, but Dabi thinks he will the longer that he has to figure things out. "...Fine." It's not like he really thought Hawks was a good idea. 

Duster lets out a breath, slow and even, and hides away the desperate thing he just showed him. Dabi expects that to be it, but Shig reaches for his face. He's pretty sure he's the only one who Shigaraki touches so much, but he tries to ignore that as his cool knuckles brush over the back of his cheek. "Stay with me?" 

"You're such a freak. I'm not going anywhere." He rolls his eyes, batting away his hand before he feels how his temperature started to creep higher. 

But he keeps his word. He doesn't go out recruiting again, he ignores the calls from an unknown number that try to come through, he sticks with the League. Shigaraki always seems to be hovering around him and in his space, orbiting him like he's the center of his whole world and the new version of himself and the organization that he's starting to build. Dabi can't say he hates that. He hasn't been important to anyone for so long, so he stays, and the League grows, and Shigaraki changes. 

///

They take over the MLA, they heal from their injuries, they are able to gather resources and plan their attack. And when they do, it's with Shigaraki fully nomu, with all of AFO's quirks at his disposal. It's a year of planning and everything else, but in one year, they are ready for their war. It only takes Shigaraki one hour to kill Best Jeanist, Hawks, Eraser Head, Mirko, and half a dozen other less well-known heroes. He even harvests the ones that he can, their broken bodies being snatched from the battlefield by the doctor for future nomu. And in the middle of all of that, Shigaraki having teleported around to find his targets and get the heroes more and more on edge and scrambling, their soldiers were moving in, destroying local police and hero agencies, cutting into infrastructure and wiping out power in large sections of the country. But in all the ones that do still have power, when Endeavor is called to the HPSC building because the world is burning all around them, Dabi airs his video, he tells the world his name. 

And he and Endeavor die together just the way he'd always planned. 

///

There is a persistent, and unfamiliar, ache under his skin. The air feels like it's a little too warm, and there is a heavy exhaustion throughout him. Hands move over his skin, firm and bringing with them a soft towel that he realizes is wiping away something from his body that feels oily and is filling his nose with an unfamiliar chemical smell. But he doesn't hurt. All he remembers from the moment just after he watched his blue flames boil Enji's eyes out of his skull until the sockets were spilling cerulean fire, was a sharp satisfaction and an overwhelming pain as they both crumbled away to ash. He opens his eyes, surprised that he still has his, and finds himself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The lights aren't too high, and he tries to figure out what's going on. 

Shigaraki is leaning over him, washing away a thin purple liquid from his naked skin, and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. He was definitely missing limbs by the time he had his father pinned, his skin was gone in so many places. But it wasn't smooth and black like it is now. There are patches of skin, like there were before, that are still his original skin tone, but the rest of it doesn't look like the knotted scar tissue he knows to expect. There are no staples either, just faint lines of pink scars around where the different sections meet.

"You're finally awake, firefly." Duster's voice is breathless as he sees his eyes open, as he shifts to feel how this is his body, he can feel it all, can see himself. 

"What--" 

Shigaraki's hand curls around the back of his neck and Dabi is speechless as he leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "It doesn't matter. You're here, and I promise I'm never going to stop taking care of you." He rests their foreheads together, and Dabi is still and silent because he has no idea what he should do as he grapples with the fact he's still alive. 

///

Shigaraki, seeing as Dabi's awake, helps him into a fancy bathroom off of the side of the lavish room, making him sit on a shower stool, but letting him wash away the lingering liquid as he calls in the doctor. Dabi knows what happened to him before he speaks to Ujiko. Looking in the mirror, seeing the sections of his body that have the distinct skin of a nomu, seeing out of eyes he's certain should have been destroyed-- he knows that Shigaraki or someone must have pulled him out of the crater that was supposed to be his and Enji's gravesite, and send him to be fixed. They brought him back from the brink of death. Dabi isn't sure if he's happy about that or not. 

But he cleans himself up and submits himself to testing. He's the same kind of nomu Shigaraki is. His physical strength will be insane, he shouldn't have any worries about rejecting the other tissue that was grafted on him. He will be ageless, healthy, and stable for as long as he lives, and as long as he checks in with the doctor from time to time if he does notice anything strange. And then the doc leaves and it's just him and Shigaraki alone again. There's a strange numbness that has gone through him throughout his waking and he doesn't know where to even start with it. All he manages to do is turn to Duster and ask, 

"What happened?" 

Shigaraki threads their fingers together, no longer needing to worry about his quirk destroying anything he doesn't want it to, and smiles at him, warmer and realer than any he's ever seen on the other man's face before. "We won, firefly." 

///

He finds out over the course of the next two weeks that the League, Shigaraki, didn't just win, he devastated Japan, and every foreign military that tried to come into the country to stop him. He ensured that all of his people would have exactly what they needed and over the course of the twenty-two months that Dabi was in the tank and being treated by the doctor, Shigaraki has started rebuilding Japan with himself as its king. He is actually the king now, and the only heroes left in the country are the ones who are being systematically hunted down by his people. He took the world for himself and shattered it into pieces, but he's creating something new now. The others are all off doing their own work to those ends, and none of them know about Dabi surviving what was supposed to be his final fight. 

"I knew I would bring you back," Duster tells him. They're sitting out on the porch that wraps around Shigaraki's house. It's not a palace, though it's essentially treated as such by the rest of the world, it's just a nice house sitting on top of a mountain. On top of Sekoto Peak. Because Shigaraki wanted something here for him after finding out who he was. They don't have to stay here if he doesn't want to, they can go anywhere, he can have whatever he wants. But Dabi just feels numb. He wasn't supposed to live to see the end of the war, the rebuilding efforts, and it feels like every ounce of drive that was in him from before has been stolen away. He keeps wondering if he could burn himself again faster than this new body could regenerate. He wonders even if he did, if Shigaraki would just spend another two years fixing him. "But I didn't know how long it would take. I wanted them to go out and build their own lives now that they can without fear." 

Shigaraki is holding his hand. He holds his hand a lot. Runs his knuckles over the back of his cheek, catches him around the back of his neck and presses kisses to his forehead. Dabi keeps meaning to rebuff whatever weird familiarity Shigaraki is displaying, but he feels like all the things he notices about his surroundings are being filtered in through a fog, and he forgets about saying something because he doesn't even think to until hours after the touch happened.

"I can call them back, when you're ready to see them." 

Dabi doesn't know if he's ever going to be ready for that. He hasn't even asked what happened to the rest of his family after he killed Endeavor, and Shigaraki hasn't offered the information either. If he can't manage that, he doesn't know how he's going to even pretend to not be numb when the others see him. 

///

He's been awake for a month in this haze, so thick that he actually did ask Shigaraki to bring the doctor back again because he was kind of worried that his brain was going the way that the gray and black nomus do. But Ujiko had just looked at him with barely constrained pity and informed him he was showing symptoms of depression. Dabi had let out a bark of laughter at that, and it was the first time he'd laughed since he woke up. It felt like glass shards in his throat, and did not convince anyone that he was alright. He tries to get given work to do, something, anything to try and make this awful numbness go away. But working on how to run a country is no more or less exciting than running the PLF, especially since Shigaraki is still keeping him secret. 

He tries to train, and when Duster sees him going outside, he catches both of his hands and pulls him to a stop. 

"What?" He asks, barely registering it as he pulls him in closer, and brings his knuckles up to his lips. He needs to tell Shigaraki to stop doing that. 

"You can't train, firefly." 

"Why not?" 

"After how badly you hurt yourself, do you really think I would let you have your quirk?" Shigaraki says, pressing his cheek to his knuckles. "No, precious. You can have it back when you're all better and I know I can trust you again." 

And the first flicker of something cuts through his numbness. A sharp, hot indignation that-- that doesn't make his temperature creep higher from his quirk. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He snaps, yanking his hands away from the other. "You don't get to choose if I deserve my quirk or not--" that anger, that spark, takes away the numbness that he has been drowning in for so long now. "You don't get to decide if I live or die! You shouldn't have brought me back! I wanted to die! I meant to die! You took everything from me!" His face doesn't hurt when the tears start to slip down his cheeks and he wipes at his cheek with horror, seeing translucent, healthy tears on the back of his hand. Duster took away every inch of him, replaced the things that were broken but were his, with something that so clearly–

Shigaraki catches his wrist again, squeezing hard enough that Dabi gasps as he feels his bones grind against each other as he does it. Red eyes burn into his as he yanks Dabi closer, his other hand clasping around the opposite bicep in the same bruising grip. "I took care of you. I took care of the League. I made certain that you would be safe. You're mine," he tells him, and there is a madness in his eyes as he says it. Something that puts a sharp spike of fear in him and-- and reminds him of how his father used to look at his mother before Shoto was born. 

Dabi only lets out a thin whimper, a sound he's never heard himself make before as he's held helpless in Shigaraki's grip. It doesn't matter if they're the same breed of nomu, Shigaraki has All For One, he's holding him. He could kill Dabi right now if he wanted. And then he could bring him back and do it again. 

The mania in his eyes dulls a bit. He pushes it away, and they go to that unbearable softness again. Duster sighs quietly and loosens his grip before shifting a hand to his chin. "I know that you're not feeling well, precious." He says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, breaking a stream of his tears. "I'm sorry for yelling. Why don't you come with me to the kitchen and I'll make you some tea?" 

Dabi tests his limits, and is allowed to pull out of his grip. He doesn't have words as he shakes his head slightly and flees back to his room, but at least Shigaraki doesn't stop him from going.

///

It takes him hours after dark for him to be able to curl up in his bed and try to go to sleep. He kept ignoring Shigaraki's weird behaviors before because he just thought the guy was poorly socialized, but now he realizes that he's the only one he touched like that. That he never did it in front of any of the others either. He doesn't know what the others would think about this, but he wants out now. He just doesn't know how he's going to get it. Shigaraki owns Japan. He's in charge of everything, which means that unless he is willing to learn how to get by on his physical strength alone, lose his quirk forever, and be willing to kill the League and whoever else Duster sends after him, there is nowhere in all of Japan where he can go. 

He isn't asleep, not when those thoughts are rolling around in his head, but he is dazed and bleary when all of the sudden his bed dips. Dabi jolts, turning, trying to lash out with his quirk, and not finding it again as Shigaraki gets into bed with him. He catches his arm as he swings it towards him and barely blinks before he leans over him, his other hand against the mattress and caging him in. "It's just me, precious." 

A sharp fear he's never felt before starts in his gut and Dabi tries to pull his hand away, but he's held in place so that he can't sit up, "Shigaraki, get out of my room." His voice sounds thinner with that fear. He needs to break whatever delusional claim the other man thinks he has over him before this gets any more out of hand. "I don't want you in here." 

"I know you're upset, sweetheart," Dabi is far more than that when Shigaraki calls him that as he shifts closer. He tries to squirm out from under him, but the other man is so much stronger than him, and he keeps him exactly where he wants him on the bed as he forces a leg up between one of Dabi's own and pins him to the bed with his weight. Terror sears across his nerves and he tries to fight harder, tries to tap into the strength that this body is supposed to have, but he doesn't make the other flinch in the slightest as he does. "But I don't want you to go to bed angry." With him pinned from the waist down, Shigaraki reaches for his chin and holds him still. "I know this isn't what you planned, I know that taking away your quirk doesn't seem fair, but, precious, can you blame me?" 

He sounds like this is all perfectly reasonable, like Dabi is the one who is being insane. 

"When you had it before, you were going to kill yourself, baby. You were going to leave me. After you promised you weren't going anywhere." He leans closer and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. "You said you would stay, firefly." There is a sharper ache in the look that he gives him now. "I need you with me, precious." He doesn't wait for Dabi to try to find his words, he just holds him still as his lips seal over his. 

Dabi keeps his lips pressed tight, he tries to turn away, but the grip on his chin holds him still as Duster kisses his mouth. He kisses him like this is something he's been waiting to do for so long, and a horrible sickness goes through him as he wonders if he did wait to do this, or if the reason he had been so unfazed by cleaning him up and helping him shower, was because he's already had his fill of his body while he was sleeping. Shigaraki doesn't care how unresponsive he is, he shifts his fingers up his jaw so he can press hard at the hinge of it, until Dabi knows his bones will break, or he'll have to open his mouth. The sharp pain is enough to have his eyes watering again, and his mouth opens with a sob. 

Shigaraki doesn't care. He licks into his mouth, holding his jaw open so that Dabi can't even try to bite him, as he licks deep inside. Duster takes like cold rain, and Dabi feels like that flavor is somehow sinking through his skin and all the way down to his bones. He wishes he were still feeling so numb as he lets go of Dabi's wrist to shift closer instead. Dabi tries to push against him, tries to pull on his hair or scratch his nails through his shirt, he tries to get away. He tries. Shigaraki doesn't even seem to notice. 

He pulls away, resting their foreheads together. "I've been waiting for you for so long, precious. I was so scared that I wouldn't get to make this new world for you."

Dabi shakes his head, weakly, tears dripping off his cheeks. "Shigaraki, let go of me, please." 

"Never again, firefly." He promises, kissing at the tracks of them again. "The whole world is mine now, and I've been waiting so long to share it with you." He strokes his thumb over his cheek and kisses the edge of his lips. "My queen." 

"I'm not yours--" Dabi yelps as pain lances through his cheek. It's not the same as burning, not the same as a bruise or broken bone. It feels different and wrong. And the pain comes with a soft crack as his skin shatters under the effects of Decay. He tries to thrash away, and Shigaraki holds him to the bed, but doesn't make his head crumble into nothing as he lets out a strangled cry. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, precious. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry." Shigaraki grabs him again, not in the same places as before, catching him in a hug and pulling him in, onto their sides so that he can hold him close, tucking Dabi's head against his chest as he strokes his hair and Dabi sobs, his own hand going to his shattered skin as he shakes. It takes about half an hour for the new healing to knit his skin back together, and he can't stop crying the whole time. He cries for his quirk, he cries for the body that hasn't been his own since the moment he was conceived, he cries for the end he was denied so someone else could use him for their twisted delusion. He cries and cries, and Shigaraki holds him and strokes his hair. He kisses the top of his head, and he tells him softly, again and again, "It's alright, precious. Nothing is ever going to hurt you again. I'm going to keep you safe, baby boy. It's all going to get better, firefly. I love you so much." 

It takes a long time for him to find words again, and when he does he only manages to say the other's name. "S-Shigaraki--" because he is terrified if he tries to protest again, if he tries to tell him this isn't love, this is something sick and twisted, that he'll be hurt again. 

Duster doesn't make him find words, he just tries to pull him into whatever soft hazy place he believes that he's living in, by kissing him again. He kisses him over and over, only parting enough for him to suck in a breath and let it back out on a fresh sob as his hands start to move over his body. He hadn't really dressed for bed, he'd just taken off his t-shirt and lounge pants and climbed in, and Shigaraki takes advantage of every inch of his naked skin. His hands move over his back, stroking around his sides and up to his chest to tease at his nipples. His piercings were all removed when he was in the tank, but his nerves, all of the new nerves all over his body that aren't broken and constantly screaming his pain, they somehow feel even more sensitive than before. 

Dabi's stomach floods with sickness as he realizes what he's angling for to put this 'argument' to bed, to prove how much he 'loves' him. "Shigaraki--" 

"Use my first name, precious. I want to hear it. I've been waiting so long to hear your pretty voice again, sweetheart." He breathes against Dabi's lips desperately as he kisses him again as he pushes him back onto his back, this time forcing Dabi's thighs wide around his hips. He can't help it when his breath hitches again as he feels Shigaraki's cock pressing against his as he's forced to this angle. He hates himself for the way that a jolt of pleasure goes through him there even as this only makes his fear sharper. 

"Tomura, please, I don't--" He pinches a little more roughly at Dabi's nipples and he whimpers but shuts up. Shigaraki wants to play this game. He wants to pretend, and he's going to make Dabi pretend too if he doesn't want this violation to be as physically painful as it already is in other ways as Shigaraki licks and nips along his jawline. 

"You don't have to be nervous, precious." He breathes against his skin. "I'm going to take such good care of you in our bed too." 

He doesn't bother to protest again. He knows it's not going to save him as his mouth settles against his throat, licking and biting like he wants to leave marks that he can't now because his skin is black there. Shigaraki starts to rock his hips into his, slow rolling movements that Dabi wants to twist away from, especially when they... start to feel good. He bites on his lip hard, trying to keep the only sounds coming out of him his soft sobs, as his cock begins to stir. But Shigaraki feels him, of course he does, and he smiles sweetly at him before his mouth moves down his chest to replace one of his hands. His other slips lower, catching the back of his thigh, pushing his boxers higher so that he can have his hand against his skin and drawing soothing circles there as he grinds against him. Dabi is pretty sure the petrichor taste of him is sinking past his skin and going all the way into his bones, settling there into a heavy, inescapable chill as his body, untouched for so long, starts to warm to his touches. 

The tears never hurt as they slip over his cheeks like they used to, and they never stop. Shigaraki's touches never hurt, and he never stops either. He pulls back for long enough to pull away his shirt and then he is kissing him again, his hands going down Dabi's hips and forcing them up so that he can pull away his boxers. Dabi tries to twist away instinctively, his body unable to suppress the urge when he doesn't want that. Shigaraki bites his lip so hard that he starts to bleed and he makes himself be still under him again. His erection doesn't even have the decency to flag as that fresher fear and pain go through him. His skin is so desperate for a touch. Even before he was supposed to have died, even before the League, it had been at least a year since anyone was willing to go to bed with him, and no matter how much his mind recoils, his body longs for pleasure. Shigaraki licks away the blood from his lip and murmurs, 

"You look so beautiful blushing like that for me, precious." His hands move over his body and he leans back to really look at him. "I wish I could have seen you before, but we were always so busy with work. I promise things will be different now. I'm going to make sure that you never have to lift a finger for anything else ever again." 

"Tomura, we don't have to," do this? Change how things were before? What? It's so sharply clear that this is all Shigaraki has wanted out of him since Overhaul. 

"I want to, precious. I want to make you feel good. I want to make every part of you mine. I want to make love to you, Dabi." He wishes so badly that he had burned hot enough to have only been ashes in the wind, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't know if he means when he was twelve or when he killed his father. 

Shigaraki kisses him again, his hands moving down his body, one wrapping around his cock and stroking him slowly from root to tip and Dabi hates himself for how loudly he moans. It feels so sickeningly good that his toes curl against the sheets and his cock starts to drool so much so quickly. He bites into his lip this time and tries not to squirm and have that pleasure turn to agony as Duster's eyes stay so pleased and adoring on him as he strokes his cock a few more times before he, thankfully, lets go of him. 

Then his hand moves over his balls and behind him. No, no, no-- His fingers, only wet with his pre, circle his hole, and Dabi grabs onto his shoulders, his nails biting into his skin. He's not even bothering to try to push him away, he's just bracing himself for the pain of being opened, or being raped by the thick cock he can see outlined in Shigaraki's pants, without proper preparation. But when Duster starts to rub around his hole, Dabi feels a surreal, unfamiliar ache in his pelvis before he feels-- he yelps as something warm and wet starts to slick his hole and Shigaraki's fingers as he rubs them over him. 

"Wh--" 

"That's it, precious. Getting so wet for me," and his voice is thicker with his lust. "I knew my baby girl would be so needy after having to wait so long to have me." 

He understands then, as Shigaraki circles him one more time before he pushes his finger deep inside, sliding along his wet walls without the discomfort he was expecting, that he didn't just have the doctor fix him. He had him made perfect for his delusions. He had his 'queen' made so that he could fuck him whenever he wanted. Dabi squeezes his eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears spill down his cheeks as he realizes that he probably tailor made his body to react to his touches. Made it impossible for him not to... like it as he's violated. 

Shigaraki rubs his finger along him, until Dabi is panting and keening softly as his cock leaks heavily against his stomach, and his hole is all but gushing slick as he puts in another. He sinks them inside and scissors them just enough to get him used to a stretch, strokes just long enough to ensure that his prostate is sensitive and making him moan with each little brush against it, before he kisses Dabi again and pulls his fingers out. 

"Tomura, please," and he wants to think that he's begging for him to stop. He knows he doesn't want this. But his body is lost in the heady, unwanted pleasure that is being forced across his nerves. He wants to die. He wants to be fucked. 

Shigaraki won't let him do the first, not when he thinks he owns him. But he takes the second for himself. He strips away the last of his clothing and Dabi shifts, twisting his torso so that he can hide his face against the pillows so he at least doesn't have to look at the other man as he wraps his hand around his thigh and holds him open and at the angle he wants, as his other hand steadies his cock so he can press inside. Dabi hates himself for how good it feels, how much wetter he gets, how loudly he moans, as Shigaraki feeds his massive cock into his body. He's breathless and soaking the pillow with his tears as the other man bottoms out.

"Fuck, precious, you're so tight." He leans in and kisses his cheek as he starts to rock his hips into him in slow, gentle, rolling thrusts that make certain every one of Dabi's nerves is stimulated and suffusing his body with pleasure. He laughs softly and Dabi wishes he could burn him alive. "First time you've had something inside since I brought you back, huh, precious? Guess that really makes you mine." He teases like they're lovers. As far as he's concerned, they are. 

And Dabi's body agrees as he starts to shift, angling his thrusts deeper, dragging their skin against each other slowly, kissing and touching wherever he can reach. He forces his pleasure to go higher and higher, and no matter how good it all feels, Dabi knows that it's wrong because his quirk isn't racing to meet him. His body gets warmer, but only the way a normal person’s would. Only reminding him with each sobbed moan and whimper as Shigaraki wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke, that his body isn't his. It never has been. It belonged to his father's ambitions first, then it belonged to his revenge, now it's Shigaraki's and he's never going to be able to escape. 

It's not an escape, but it is a relief when his pleasure goes so high that he can't fight it back any longer. His mind goes blissfully blank as he arches and cums, his insides tightening around Shigaraki, and pulsing just as much as his cock as he spills his release. His whole body feels consumed by the pleasure and he cries and cries as Duster keeps moving inside of him. He pushes him past the oversensitivity, telling him the entire time how beautiful he is, how much he missed him, how much he loves him, how he's never going to let him go again. He talks, and touches, and rapes him, and Dabi's body doesn't have the decency to be disgusted. He gets hard again, and this time, Shigaraki only lets him cum when he finally does, lacing their fingers together and kissing him sweetly as he fucks him full of his cum, until Dabi's mind gives him another few seconds of reprieve as his orgasm drowns him again. 

///

Shigaraki barely lets him be alone after that. He is with him in his bed-- their bed-- when he sleeps and wakes. He is with him when he eats, when he goes anywhere in the house, and if he has work to do, he brings Dabi to his office and he does his work, while holding one of Dabi's hands so that he can't go far. Dabi has to ask to even go to the bathroom when he needs to, and if he's not back in a timely enough fashion, Shigaraki comes looking for him. Now that he's shown his hand, proved to Dabi he is insane beyond anything he could have guessed, he doesn't bother to hide his obsession anymore. He keeps Dabi close, he pulls him into his lap for kisses and wandering touches that could turn deadly, or at the very least, painful, at his slightest whim. He slips his hand into his pants whenever he feels like it, either stroking him off or fingering him until he's dripping and trembling through his orgasm. He kisses away his tears and tells him how beautiful he is, how much he loves him, as he does, and Dabi lets him. 

He's not numb anymore. 

No, Shigaraki keeps him close, he dotes on him and adores him, and Dabi moves past the anguish. He moves past the regrets and wishes that he had just died when he had the chance. Wishing for those things won't save him now any more than it did when he was a child. He learns what Shigaraki wants from him, and when he wakes up in the morning a week after the first night that Duster forced his way into his bed, Dabi rolls into his chest and nuzzles his face up under his chin, pressing a kiss there, just beneath his jaw. 

"Morning, Tomu." He mumbles. 

Shigaraki's hands against him twitch, tightening just the slightest bit. "Morning, precious. Did you sleep better last night?" No secret now that they're sharing a bed that he has nightmares. Of the fire, of his father, and of Shigaraki too now. Dabi doubts he'll ever stop having any of those, but he shrugs. 

"Do you have a meeting this morning?" He asks instead. 

"Why, baby?" 

He kisses up his jaw until he reaches his ear. "Wanna see if I can take your cock without having to prep. You made me perfect for you, didn't you, Tomura?" 

"You were always perfect, firefly." Shig breathes, catching his chin and looking into his eyes. Dabi doesn't know if he'll ever learn to fake whatever he's going to need to in order to make Shigaraki believe his words are real. But he has time. He'll never get older, never be hurt again so long as he plays along. He can pretend. He wonders if Shigaraki can see those thoughts in his eyes as he looks at him, his gaze calculating. Dabi will play along. He'll do it until his mind shatters and he really does fall in love with this monster, or until Shigaraki sinks so far into his delusion that he never sees it coming when he burns him alive. 

Dabi knows how to bide his time to destroy someone. When he does it this time, he's going to make sure that no one is around to ruin the finality of that action. "I love you." He says on a breath, and Shigaraki smiles at him sweetly even though his eyes are still sharp. 

"I love you too, precious." They're both lying when they say it, but Dabi at least understands that his own words aren't just a lie, they're a promise. He will either love Shigaraki, or he'll kill him. Time will tell. 

[nisimultifandom]

dark!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings- MDNI, dark content, power imbalance, mean!rafe, slapping

A/N - finally back, enjoy

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed when Rafe came storming through the door with Papers in his hand, you couldn’t tell by his face whether it was good or bad news.

,,here” you looked at the papers which he threw on his bed with a confused look, you would need more Information than that, but fortunately he got the hint before you had to say anything

,,These are enrollement papers, i want you to go to school in Tanneyhill”

You were silent for a while, trying to gather up the right words to use without ticking him off, his face was rather stern but there wasn’t much of any emotion, he just waited for your response with his hands on his hips, which made him look more intimidating than he already was

,,But I already go to school on the other side of town, I have all my friends there and I’m happy with it” Rafe got more serious at that, also gathering his words before exploding too fast

,,You go to a pogue school, with pogues, this is a private school for people who will get something from life”

You frowned at that, feeling yourself get a little bit angry, Rafe not only insulted your friends but your family too

,,Rafe, everyone in my Family went to that school, went off to college and made something of themselves, I can’t believe you would say such things" you took a quick breath ,,I don't wanna switch schools"

A mocking grin appeared on his face at that ,,Im sorry i don't recall asking you, i'm telling you, you're changing schools"

you stood up from the bad wanting to be at the same length as him, knowing it would easier to get to you if you're lying down. He frowned at that before licking his teeth, knowing you were about to challenge him

,,And I’m telling you that I’m not changing schools, and you’re not in the position to deci-“ he grabbed you chin before you got to finish the sentence, taking all bravery out of you ,,Y/n…I don’t think you don’t know what position you’re in in this relationship”

,,Do I need to remind you?” You contemplated if a busted lip was worth the trouble and…,,Oh please, big bad Kook prince, show me what you got, it’s all you’ve ever known” his breath flared at that, his blue eyes now a darker shade an you knew if you didn’t stop it wouldn’t end good for you

,,Y/n” he states ,,you’re just scared that if I don’t switch school I’ll end up fucking a pogue” you weren’t schocked when you found yourself on the ground, with a piercing pain in your cheek

,,You disrespectful slut, I thought of doing you a favour didn’t know you had it in you to actually fuck some pogue” you let out a cry when he grabbed the back of your head ,,stand up” your body was working against you but your brain was trying to help you think straight

,,I said stand up” he shook you up by your ponytail, finally finding the strength to stand up, but too late as he already had other plans when he kicked the back of your legs, making you fall to your knees

,,can’t even follow some orders I see, do I need to remind you of your place?” You shook your head no, trying not to disturb his mood ,,answer when I’m talking to you”

,,No Rafe, I-I think I learned my lesson” he swiped the tears from your cheek, smirking down at you ,,You think?”

,,I know I did, I’m sorry”

,,Good, cause next time I won’t be as nice” he whispers in your ear

,,Why do you need to control everything?“ you ask looking up at him through the hair stuck to your face

,,Because you and I both know who makes the money, who takes care of everything“ he goes on ,,If not for me you wouldn’t even survive this fucked up world“ you were shocked at his words, the only person he should be protecting you from, is himself

,,I don’t need a full time babysitter, I’ve been doing just fine on my own” you let out through gritted teeth , Rafe let’s out a groan at that

,,I would advice you to shut the fuck up before I do something I regret” he shouts at you, taking a hold of your hair again, making you let out a pained sob. You try to find comfort in him, by taking a hold of his thighs, at that he raises an eyebrow

,,I-I’m sorry, let’s just stop fighting” trying to gather your words through the pain in your throat was harder than anticipated, the corner of his lip forms a smirk and he’s picking you up from the ground to put his arms around you

,,Stupid girl, next time I tell you to do something, don’t fix your lips to disagree me,got it?” You nod, stuffing your wet face in his polo shirt. Trying to stand up to Rafe was a mistake, one that shouldn’t be repeated again, but if you ever felt rebellious again he would make sure to remind you where you really stand.

[imustbenuts]

i finished metaphor refantazio which means i can talk about this game's themes with a working braincell now.

under the read more: pre-ww2 japanese history and religion fuckery. word vomit for anyone who might be interested in my perspective

Major spoilers head

i was RIGHT about louis being enamored with the royal family in some way and having a buttfuck ton of the royal family flowers in his room in his airship. i think this plot point is now heavily hinted at but currently discarded due to development/writing hell. i think louis probably followed hythlodaeus v out of the sanctum in extreme admiration. he has a lot of similarities with More in that they both had reality + lonliness crushed into their faces. his current self in the game is driven by despair and fear.

this is interesting bc theres actually also a lot of allusion to japanese pre-ww2 history going on from my admittedly very limited knowledge. so here goes:

There's a lot about Louis that reminds me of the whole shitshow going down during the Meiji era up until ww2. the gist of this past 200 odd years was that the western world came in knocking with christianity as a tool for colonization. which was understandably yikes, so they shut themselves off, only to then get another visitation later with pretty intimidating technology in the form of iron steamships with cannons. gunboat diplomacy. this meant that a previously imperialistic japanese society build on conquering had to react/adapt to this drastic force like fucking whiplash.

so they pretty much went from pro-military samurai shogunate to pro-emperor. the gist is there was a very pro-emperor-god-king rhetoric going on that sought to rid anything inconvenient towards that narrative. to keep people in line yes but to also get japan big and powerful enough to sit with the same western colonial powers.

so in place of the old caste system under the shogun, there eventually were now oligarchies, far right military factions etc under the emperor. only something like the top 5% of the population had a say in this new democracy system they set up too. (it got way more democratic in the 1930s? not sure. but what im saying here is 1860s-1900 ish at least)

so things were going. for a while. messy, full of 'expel the foreigners, revere the emperor' rhetoric but it was going.

then more depression happened and the overall economy went to shit in 1900. that era leading up to ww2 had a lot of young men in Japan being extremely nationalist and pro military, in part due to a whiplash of culture change and in other due to poverty. (ive come across the topic of white rice being offered for those who conscript. white rice was seen as the emperor's luxury food so that was somewhat of a draw to young men back then.) There were a lot of far right political factions and assassinations going on. international relations were also imploding bc the military had this idea that japan was the superior divine race and they were destined to conquer the world/asia. so they did some sabotaging false flag operation shit in manchuria in order to try and start a world war. (Mukden incident. 1931)

Which is then not a surprise that in 1932 a prime minister by the name of Inukai Tsuyoshi got assassinated by a bunch of far right pro military guys in their 20s. They were even then praised by the judge bc of their act being seen as pro-emperor and therefore patriotic. Bc again emperor god king delusion.

(read up on the League of Blood incident where these people also plotted to kill the oligarchs and liberal politicians. they uh actually succeeded in some cases btw. look, too much shit.)

meanwhile, the emperor, Hirohito, wanted peace, wanted better foreign international relations and relayed his desires to the same Inukai Tsuyoshi, but the military was going out of control. (and Inukai got assassinated so the position of prime minister is now Not Safe.) so out control they eventually became beyond any civilian/state control and bam ww2. pearl harbor and all that stuff.

(i havent read up on what kind of person hirohito actually is so ill refrain on commenting on his character. but in terms of actual power over his country hes VERY Hythlodaeus V in metaphor)

so while there isnt an organized religion in the form of a church, there is absolutely an element of religious and military fanaticism in that era.

So Louis has a lot of this vibes going on. He was also a young military boy. Is young probly in his 20s. Has a lot of royal flowers in his skyrunner that points towards this royal family worshiping thing. Seized control of a military faction that went completely out of control from the state. Is of some 'pure blood' race if his elda bloodline is any indication. Murdered the pro-equality but failed figure head bc he did not live up to Louis' expectations and was responsible for a lot of failures in the state policy. started a false flag operation that resulted in people dying and forced to leave an area.

also, did i mention lowkey eugenics? yeah that same imperial military was big on this too. the strong will survive the weak will be culled etc etc.

Meanwhile the mc gels well with the benevolent emperor narrative that is popular in JP media even today. I think it could be some indicator of how the general japanese feels towards the royal family, since supposedly an emperor is sworn to an oath of leading with valor, wisdom and benevolence. These are also represented by 3 regalia, a sword, a mirror and a jewel, presented during the official coronation ceremony.

The regalias might be treasures from different tribes originally, at least that's what some scholars think.

So I won't be surprised if the Drakodilos lance ends up being a part of the imperial treasure thing after the mutsari tribe gets protected under law. the mustaris here are the aforementioned 'different tribes' thing.

in fact, more on this topic with the mustaris. these people arent just random tribal people, to me they are more south/south east asian people. their biome is jungle island like, which means polynesian, and places like philippines, vietnam, thailand, indonesia etc.

the brown/tan skin is found in a lot of SEAsians, and the third eye is too a popular asian mysticism thing. it is especially prevalent in hinduism and buddhism. the idea is that a 3rd eye means enlightenment, or at least the ability to perceive the unperceivable.

if we subsitute sanctism with shinto, then theres some parallels here to be had with whats going on at the time too. bc the funny thing im seeing here is, shinto is sanctism, and mustari's religion has big buddhsim vibes without the name.

(that mustari arc boss looks like a twisted banged up buddha/boddhisattva what with the prayer position and multi arms thing going on)

in that pre-ww2 time period, shinto buddhism was going through a split and defining in order to prop up the emperor god king narrative. this process meant suppressing elements of buddhism. wont get into the reeds of this, but know that buddhism originated in india in a response against the hindu caste system. so in a way, a 'foreign' religon.

now, there is absolutely a thing going on here where Me:Re can come off as inherently pro-emperor and even a little pro-japanese nationalist, what with the whole 1 nation of vaguely SEAsians under a (japanese written) king thing. frankly, as a SEAsian this is gross but nothing surprising considering how hard Me:Re feels like an echo of pre ww2 jp politics. and also how jp media tends to be with topics surrounding this. im iffy on the japanese nationalist part, bc the needle is definitely moving in terms of racism/colorism today, and in the game lacks certain elements for me to see it as a big red flag.

that said, i wont immediately napalm the intentions behind this game to the ground. this game has got excellent commentary on racism and some stuff about policies. its got nuance. it is even a criticism against how the old japanese empire tried to go about doing things. it is open to the idea of democracy and even seems to say that politics arent perfect and can fail but its better to try than not at all.

this is far more valuable than blatant doomerism imo.

all this is why in the final segment, we fight More in the middle of shibuya scramble. this isnt just meta for the sake of meta, its allusion to their history specifically. this game is NOT so much a criticism about organized religion as it is about governance in relation to its people. this game is talking about politics without specific policies.

i can respect that despite all the major ick i might have.

this is why despite saying oppression is bad, it doesn't have any queer representation because it's leaning towards a conservative pro emperor ideology on the overall spectrum. Queerness is not part of that century old conversation at all in this context so take this as you will.

(personally the fact that queerness is not even remotely touched on means the overall thoughts on opression hasnt radically changed. Personally, this, specifically, sucks. Bc this means this narrative feels like it could've been easily released even 20 years ago and brought the exact same challenge to the table but ymmv. I suppose this is why people have been saying the game reminds them of old jrpgs.)

sooo yeah Me:Re is very much a big middle finger to fanaticism, but is also very japanese history at its roots. i had fun, and it def made me think

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating fear — (XX)

The World Turns Upside Down

Alternate idea, changed after publishing this, the canon part XX link is here.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Kit was wary about following Ambrose down a very dark, a very concrete set of stairs. “If this is the fucking torture basement I woke up in initially—”

Ambrose waved the accusation away, as if it was daft for Kit to be wary. “It’s to the garage,” he told him, keying a code into the pin-pad beside the metal door.

Ambrose walked through the door and held it open, rolling his eyes when he noticed Kit still lingering at the top of the stairs.

“Come on.”

“I’m not going to willingly follow you into your torture dungeon.”

Ambrose blinked, tilting his head. “The sex dungeon is two floors down, Mallory.”

Ambrose laughed at the face that Kit pulled. “Come on. I can always force you to come if I want, and we’re kind of a time crunch here.”

Kit glared daggers at the man and begrudgingly walked down the stairs. He stopped at the last step, trying to get a peak into the room. Ambrose walked away from the door letting it close before Kit could. Kit lunged forward to catch the heavy metal door, but relaxed immediately when he saw it was in fact a garage.

Kit let out a long low whistle after stepping into the garage. The door shut with a buzzer after him. Ambrose opened a lock box with keys hung up in a numbered order.

He grabbed the keys named ‘01’.

“You’re such a control freak,” Kit snorted. “Do you have OCD or something?”

Ambrose shrugged, taking off through the cars covered by different tarps. The only car that wasn’t covered was the one closest to the garage door. The same car that Ambrose kidnapped Kit in last night.

He hated that Ambrose had a good taste in cars. He hated that Ambrose had this many cars when Kit couldn’t even afford one, nevermind a garage full.

Ambrose grinned at Kit over the roof of the Wraith as he unlocked the door. “If you like, I can give you one of the ones I don’t like.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “I thought I told you to stay out of my head,” he said, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. The cream leather was so comfortable under him as he put his seatbelt on.

“Seriously,” Kit went on, anger curling around him the more comfortable he became with all of Ambrose’s luxury. “Don’t you have any thoughts of your own?! It’s fucking creepy, man. Just ask questions if you want to know my thoughts.”

Ambrose laughed as he opened the garage door with a remote and they rolled out of the house and onto the road again.

“I mean, don’t you have any friends?” Kit demanded hotly. In all honesty, he didn’t know why he was getting pissed all of a sudden, it’s not like Ambrose invading his mind was a new thing, but now? It pissed him off. “Don’t you know how to talk to people?!”

“Relax, Mallory. You’re the only person I relay their thoughts to. It might shock you, but generally, people love when you know what they’re thinking. It’s why humans seek connection. To feel understood.”

“Okay, Socrates,” Kit grumbled. “It’s just fucking weird. I don’t like it when you do it.”

“All of a sudden.”

“Yes!” Kit snapped, glaring at the villain beside him as the forest zoomed past them. “All of a sudden!”

What had Ambrose seen? What parts of him did he know? Could he see everything or was it selective?

“After you found out I’m Mentor’s son,” Ambrose said pointedly. Kit scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the passenger window. They drove in a terse silence for a while, cause Ambrose was a psychopath and didn’t have the radio on.

“We have to talk about it, Kit.”

“Well, you already know my thoughts on it all, so enjoy having a conversation by yourself.”

“Mallory,” Ambrose said with a tired sigh, flicking on the indicator as they pulled to a stop. “I know it must seem like a weird coincidence to you, but I swear I didn’t know you were Mentor’s s—”

Kit’s hands tightened into fists. Son. He was about to say son.

“Prodigy,” he settled on, taking a right and messing with the gears until they were coasting again. The air seemed tighter. “I didn’t know that he meant anything to you. I swear— I just assumed that when you were scared of me turning you into him, that you had heard the horror stories in the academy, or Superhero told you. Not that you… not that you were personally affected.”

Kit’s eyes burned as he stared out the window, the forest growing sparser the closer they got to the city. “I didn’t know. You have to believe me.”

“And if you did?”

Ambrose hesitated.

Kit turned his head to look at him, studying the villain’s reactions.

“And if you knew that he was like a father to me.” Like a father, not an actual one. “If you knew how much it hurt to see a man who plucked me out of nothing be destroyed. Would it have been any different?! Or would you have laughed and rubbed it in like salt in a wound?”

“Kit—”

“Oh, come off it. There’s no one here, Rosey. It’s only me and you,” Kit said, his voice dripping with a horrible hysterical knowing. “You can be your usual sadistic, unfeeling, monstrous self and I can tell nobody about it—”

“Mallory—” Ambrose tried to interject but Kit spoke over him again.

“But you know the funniest part in all this? You already took away the one person who would have given a shit about this! About me, not the Hero. Me. And you made him a monster!” Kit roared, something wet hitting his cheeks and flowing like a stream down his face. “And now, because clearly God hates me, I have to team up with you of all people, to go and stop — the one man who ever treated me like a person — from becoming a monster like you.”

The silence was deafening. In some strange way, it was comforting. No electricity crackles or malfunctioning lights accompanied his breakdown with the power dampeners locked around his wrist.

It was cathartic.

They had just pulled into the main road that brought them to the outskirts of the city, the skyline visible over the horizon when Ambrose spoke.

“He wasn’t a hero to me,” said Ambrose quietly, almost imperceptibly. Kit glanced at him, but his eyes settled on the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

“Don’t fucking tell me you have daddy issues.” When Ambrose didn’t answer Kit let out a strangled laugh. Blinking in bewilderment, Kit raised his brows. “Are you telling me you have daddy issues? Mr Big Bad villain?”

“Oh fuck off, Mallory. At least I had parents.”

The words stung. They cut deeper than Kit would have ever admitted out loud or shown physically, but Kit knew that Ambrose was in his head after the villain winced.

Shifting in his seat, he said: “I’m— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off snarky. I just—” Ambrose let out a groan. “You just rub me up the wrong way.”

“Well who’s fucking fault is that, dickhead?!”

“Do you want me to explain, or are you just going to argue with me the entire drive to the hospital?” Ambrose snapped. “I can only do one of those things in our limited time, so choose.”

Kit clenched his teeth, glaring forwards at the car in front of them. “Fine. Tell me.”

“Mentor is my father. As you know, he only rose to prominence within our lifetimes, though you may be too young to remember. Before him, heroes and villains weren’t really a thing. There were a couple dotted here and there, but mostly they were vigilantes. The good guys and the bad guys.”

“Yeah. I remember learning about that in the academy.”

“Right. So after my father rose in public opinion and word of mouth, well the government started stepping in and trying to regulate it. Which they did and the rest is history, but he wasn’t the same heroic good man when he came home.”

Kit swallowed, tightening his fingers into fists. He didn’t want to hear this, he realised. He really wanted Ambrose to shut up and not tell him anymore, but he asked for this, didn’t he? To know the side of Mentor that Ambrose knew?

“He wasn’t abusive,” Ambrose said softly and Kit released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Not physically, anyway. When he discovered that I was born with powers he sought to train me, to make me in his image. A family of Superheroes. My Mom, she didn’t want that for me. She saw the toll it took on him to be the city’s saviour everyday, and that’s when they started fighting.”

Kit sat rigid in his seat, staring forward. He couldn’t imagine Mentor fig— well, no. He could, actually. How many times had Kit walked in on Mentor and Mr Silver arguing? Or Superhero trying to tell Mentor that the next step was a bad idea, that it was too risky.

“I trained hard. When he wanted me to push myself, I pushed myself. When he wanted me to commit 100%, I did 200%. It was never enough for him. None of it was. He wanted a son and a wife who adored him, who worshipped the ground he walked on, and instead he had a family. His ego was a problem.”

Kit cringed at that. Even he knew that Mentor wanted people to adore him, no matter who or why. He wanted to be the city’s saviour, the man on everyone’s tongue and in their thoughts.

Kit let out a breath of a laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“I guess… that’s why he adopted me, isn’t it?” Kit asked, his voice hollow. Ambrose didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? How could he not have seen that to Mentor, Kit was just some charity project he knew would always support him. Worship the ground he walked on, defend him even when Kit knew he was in the wrong.

Ambrose opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, setting his lips into a thin line.

“Mallory…”

“No. It’s okay,” Kit replied, letting out a long breath. “It’s fine, go on.”

Ambrose hesitated, fingers lifting from the steering wheel, before curling around them again. They passed the memorial garden in silence, taking the diversion around the square towards the hospital. They weren’t far away now.

“He started the Hero academy when I was twelve. A school for children with powers to develop their abilities to become heroes. I saw it for what it was though, incentive and resentment. He failed to teach me to control my abilities, and found a fault in me that I couldn’t rectify. My ability wasn’t flashy enough, or showy enough for him, for the great Mentor.”

“He wanted a child who would make the world stop and look at them. Someone who was as fast as him, as strong, but not stronger. In his eyes, I may as well have been born with strong charisma because you couldn’t see the effect of what I could do, only experience it.”

Kit looked down at his wrist, at the power dampeners locked around it. Lightning was flashy. Lightning gave Kit strength and strong reflexes, he was fast, he was flashy. He trained hard, to the point of exhaustion everyday in the Hero Academy. Not caring if he had no friends. Not caring if he passed out from pushing himself too hard. He just had to be the best. It was all he had. It was all he could do.

It wasn’t until he was beating people three years above him that Mentor started to pay him any attention. It felt good at the time. It felt like somebody finally recognised him for what he was.

Mentor made him feel seen. He saw that Kit had put his everything into training, because everything in him was all he had to give.

He didn’t have a family to worry about him getting hurt.

He didn’t have friends that would mourn him if he died in action.

All he had was being a hero.

Of course Mentor would latch onto that. Of course he would pick up on the fact that Kit was desperately trying to prove himself. Of course he would take pity on the orphan and bring him home like a trophy. Show him off to the world.

But that… that wasn’t the Mentor that Kit knew.

He brought him home, but it was after Kit denied him so many times. Told him to piss off, and asked if he was a pervert that prayed on boys his age. Kit had grown up on the streets, he knew what happened to skinny kids like him. One day they’re there, and the next, you never see them again.

Mentor was patient, and kind. He didn’t push Kit after Kit said no, told him he had everything he needed in the academy.

“Then my Mother got sick, and well…” Ambrose said, trailing off, pulling Kit from his memory and back into the car. “After she died it was like he… he didn’t even care. All he cared about was building the city up, saving everyone from possible Villains that lurked in the night. He didn’t sit with her in the hospital because he knew he couldn’t rescue her. He wasn’t there when she—”

Kit was quiet beside Ambrose, head tilted down. He knew what loss was like. He knew the absence a parent can leave behind, but losing someone who meant that? Kit didn’t know how to relate to that. When Omen destroyed Mentor’s mind, it wasn’t the same as if he died because Kit could still go and see him. Still talk to him, even if the Mentor he remembered was dead.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said softly. Ambrose cleared his throat, turning his head so Kit couldn’t see his face.

“Yeah,” he agreed, going rigid. “Me too.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. It wasn’t far. Five minutes in the car, and two minutes to park.

“Are you…?” Kit began, then cut himself off when he met Ambrose’s black eyes. What was he going to say? Are you Okay? Alright with going into see the unfeeling man who wasn’t a good father? The man you cursed for being…

Ambrose shook his head, no. “Of course I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Kit said with an awkward shrug. They got out of the car, closing the door in unison. Kit thought nothing of it.

It was borderline awkward in the lift. Ambrose kind of just, stood there like a totem pole. His hands behind his back, standing straight up like a serial killer.

“Would you relax?” Kit said, rolling his neck. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m fine,” Ambrose said slowly, voice cold. Kit shrugged and said: “fine.”

He ahead and almost cried in joy when the doors opened to the ground floor. He stopped at the reception desk. Ambrose was walking and stopped when Kit stopped, two steps ahead and glancing back to see what Kit was doing.

He joined him a moment later, standing beside him and glowering at Heather when she turned and beamed at Kit.

“Hi Heather.”

“Hey, Kit. You goin’ up to—” her big blue eyes trailed to Ambrose beside him, who looked as if he was under a storm cloud, or extremely constipated. “Oh. Hi. Is this your brother?”

Kit’s eyes blew wide, but Ambrose didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Older. We’d like to see—”

“I didn’t know you had a brother, Kit. Of course, darlin’s, go ahead. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

Ambrose nodded stiffly and stepped back. Kit blinked, shaking his head, and smiled at Heather. “Oh, actually. Was there anything strange with him? Any new visitors or—”

“I’m sorry, hun. I’m just the receptionist for the main desk. You’ll have to ask the nurses up there.”

Kit nodded, standing up. “Thank you, Heather.”

“Anytime. And nice meeting you.”

Ambrose nodded at her. “You too.”

Kit clapped him on the back, a wide grin on his face. “Let’s go, bro.”

Ambrose made a noise and Kit had to stifle a laugh until they were in the stairwell. “What was that!” He barked, laughter bubbling up his throat.

“I— panicked.”

“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Kit teased. He was turning to walk up the next set of stairs when Ambrose slammed his forearm against Kit’s throat, shoving him back into the corner of the stairwell, pinning him there.

Ambrose’s nostrils flared, his eyes blazing with cold fury down at Kit. “Of course I’m nervous, you fucking child. Tch. Don’t you ever switch off?”

Kit pushed Ambrose’s arm off him, and to his surprise, Ambrose let him, running a hand through his hair and letting out a breath.

The realisation only dawned on Kit, his mouth opening into a small ‘o’.

“You’ve never been to see him.”

Ambrose straightened. The villain returning as he stared down his nose at Kit, a sardonic smile on his lips. “And why should I? He didn’t give my mother that courtesy.”

Kit put his hands up, showing Ambrose he meant nothing by it. “Hey. It’s your decision. Not mine. He’s your dad, not—” the words choked up before he could say them. Ambrose didn’t pry. He knew what Kit was going to say.

Ambrose stared for a moment longer before glancing up the stairs and nodding stiffly.

“Yes. Well.” He cleared his throat and started walking up again. “What floor is it?”

“The fifth,” he replied, starting up the stairs beside Ambrose. “Top floor. They don’t want anyone stumbling amongst the crazies.”

“Probably for the best,” Ambrose muttered. Kit had meant it as a joke, but, he didn’t disagree with Ambrose as they climbed the stairs. Thankful that their footsteps filled the silence he couldn’t in the lift. They knew something had happened when they got to the fifth floor.

Kit stepped in first, Ambrose craning his neck around the door into the hall. Police tape on the usually locked door and two police officers stationed outside it like sentries.

Kit’s eyes widened as he half jogged up to the doors. One of the officers placed his hand on Kit’s chest. “I’m sorry, sir. This ward is cordoned off.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry sir—”

“Tell him.” Ambrose ordered, and Kit shot a glare back at Ambrose, feeling the familiar coldness of Ambrose’s ability brush past him to the Officer.

“There’s been a security breach,” the officer said. Before he could say anymore a hand snapped onto Kit’s shoulder and he whirled.

Mr Silver stood in front of him with a Doctor that Kit recognised was on Mentor’s case. This couldn’t be real. This… there was no way that…

“Hi Kit.”

“Mr Silver,” Kit replied, nodding at the doctor. “Doctor.”

“Hi Kit.”

“What is it? What happened?” Kit demanded, but Mr Silver’s eyes went to Ambrose and his expression changed. Recognition flashing across his features. Kit glanced back at Ambrose who looked away from the man in a suit, his jaw clenched.

“Oskar?” Mr Silver asked. Kit’s brows rose to the roof, eyes as wide as golf balls. Ambrose’s name… Kit studied the villain, assessing whether or not Oskar suited him. Why didn’t Ambrose make Silver forget? Make him overlook the fact that he was here? Did he want to be seen? To be known?

“Hello, Henry.” Ambrose’s reply wasn’t curt or cold. It was a little strained, but, Kit glanced between the two. Were they… friends?! What the fuck was going on?

Mr Silver was the first recover, shaking his head. “Forgive me. I just… never expected to see you both together. I never expected to see you here, Oskar.”

Ambrose’s smile was wry.

“Yes, well. Things change.”

Doctor looked between the three bewildered. “I’m sorry, I only know Kit. Are you related to the missing patient?”

“He’s missing?” Kit and Ambrose said at the same time. Doctor looked between them, then to Mr Silver who nodded.

“Yes. They’re his sons.”

Kit swallowed at the casual classification of sons.

“Yes,” Doctor nodded, his expression troubled. “Mentor has been missing since late afternoon, yesterday.”

“Isn’t this ward supposed to be locked? Doesn’t it dampen powers?” Ambrose snapped.

“It is,” Mr Silver replied, not at all bothered at Ambrose’s tone. “Which is why your father couldn’t have gotten out alone.”

“You think he’s working with someone?”

“He couldn’t be,” Kit muttered, raising his head and looking at Doctor. “I’m the only one who ever visited him. Can I see his visitor log?”

Doctor nodded slowly, his hand on his chin. “Yes. But I don’t think you’ll need to check.”

Ambrose cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because Kit and one other person were his only visitors.”

“Who?” Kit asked, searching the gentle Doctor’s face. “Who else visited him?”

A muscle in Mr Silver’s jaw clenched as he raised his gaze to Kit’s, sliding a hand into his trouser pocket. “Superhero, Kit. He’s the only other person that visited him.”

Kit stared at Silver. A smile cracking his face. This was a joke. They didn’t seriously think that Superhero was helping Mentor be a villain, right? Right?

Kit glanced at the Doctor who looked uncomfortable. “You’re joking.”

“They’re not,” Ambrose said, and Kit stiffened beside him. Ambrose must have scanned their brains, going over every possibility, looking over the visiting logs.

Kit felt as if he was being punked. He reached into his jacket pocket, looking for his phone but he didn’t find it.

“Fuck! I must’ve left my phone at home,” he cursed, looking at Silver. He’d have Superhero’s number. “Mr Silver, can I borrow yours?”

Silver gave him a flat look. “He’s not picking up, Kit.”

“Well then, the Hero tower or—”

Ambrose pressed his phone into the hero’s hands. “Here.”

Kit glanced up at him, wide eyed. He nodded and walked to the stairwell, away from the trio. He dialled Superhero’s phone and like Silver, no answer. Then he dialled the Hero tower, but hung up when it went through to the automatic receiver. Ambrose had a civilian phone, it wouldn’t patch him through.

Finally, he dialled the number of someone he knew would answer, no matter what. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, trying to smoothen it down as he paced the floor below Mentor’s ward. Footsteps echoing against the walls.

It answered on the third ring.

“Hello.” A grumbling voice answered.

“Sawyer, it’s—”

“Mallory. Where have you been?” Sawyer hissed, tone changing immediately. “We’ve been trying to contact you since yesterday.”

“I don’t have my phone.”

“We thought the new Supervillain got you.”

“No— wait, what? Why?”

Sawyer hesitated on the other end of the line. Kit’s eyes hardened. “Why?” He pressed.

“Have you not seen the news? Supervillain has telekinesis, Mallory. He’s- well, we think it’s Mentor.”

Kit was starting to get really tired of hearing that, though he couldn’t deny that this looked… bad.

“I know. He has Tides. Have you spoken to Superhero since the attack?”

“No,” Sawyer snapped. “He’s missing in the chaos too. The tower is basically running on fumes, it’s like a ghost town.”

“What?”

“Look, Kit, I got to go. It’s fucking mayhem down here. If you find Superhero, call me—”

“But—”

The line went dead. Fuck! FUCK!

He had to get his phone, it was probably still at home and call Superhero and find Tides wherever she was being kept and clear Mentor’s name because there’s— there’s no way this was all Mentor’s doing. He loved the city, why would he want to destroy it now?

And if Ambrose was to be believed, he had double the reason to make sure it stayed perfect. Kit walked up the stairs, back out into the hall of Mentor’s ward.

“Well?” Mr Silver prompted, raising his brows. Only him and Ambrose were left, the doctor probably tending to his patients. They were leaning against the opposite wall, talking in hushed voices when Kit interrupted them.

“Nothing. Superhero is missing too.”

Mr Silver’s clever eyes glimmered. “Hmm.”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You’re going to say that all this looks very suspicious but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it! Like—” Kit looked between the pair, searching for any kind of sympathetic glance. “Like the security cameras. Surely they must’ve—”

Mr Silver shook his head. “Wiped.”

“From the whole hospital?”

“Kit,” Mr Silver said with a sigh, pushing off the wall and approaching him. “Sometimes the most obvious explanation is the answer. Sometimes the only answer, no matter how much we wish it were different.”

Mr Silver put his hand on Kit’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Right now the most logical explanation is that Superhero has been working with Mentor behind the scenes to destroy the city. He broke Mentor out, and I will put a search warrant out for them both.”

“But—” Kit tried, but it was Ambrose who stopped him with a shake of his head. Kit deflated.

“I wish it was wrong, Kit. But it’s what we have to go on.”

Ambrose stepped off the wall too, approaching the pair. “Thank you, Henry.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Come on, Kit. We should find your phone.” Kit stared at him, at the man who tortured him just yester-fucking-day, but was somehow the only person he could rely on at the moment.

Kit nodded mutely. He followed Ambrose back down the stairs and to the car. Ambrose didn’t offer any words of support, or anything frivolous like that. They just moved in silence.

Maybe he didn’t need to say anything, because Ambrose could probably read every thought going though his head anyways. It didn’t matter if he did or not. Everything Kit thought he knew or believed in or trusted, none of it mattered because everything was wrong anyways.

Mentor was a villain.

Superhero knew the whole time and helped Mentor plan it.

And now, well, he couldn’t even trust Ambrose anymore. The man who was making his life hell is the only fucking person who’s here with him right now, driving him home to find his phone so he can find some fucking sense in his life that was just flipped completely—

“Kit…” Ambrose said, his voice like thunder through the overwhelming silence that was choking Kit. “I can… I can quiet your mind, if you’d like.”

Kit almost burst out crying. Instead, he glared out the window. “Oh Fuck off, Ambrose,” Kit said without any real bite behind it.

“Offers open.”

“Yeah, you’d love that. Dickhead.”

“Alright,” Ambrose said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. He turned on the radio. Kit stared out the window.

“Thanks.”

Ambrose didn’t reply.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer r @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep @acer-whumpstuff

[battleangel]

Salivating & Waiting...

They want people living in fear with a scarcity mindset full of self-doubt blaming themselves for an unsuccessful job search.

Who is "they"?

The Fed. The government. World leaders & politicians. Industry titans & leviathans.

The elite rulers of this world.

You know. Them.

All of the screaming headlines about half of a point of an interest rate cut boil down to that.

The Fed is controlled by a Board of Governors selected by the President then confirmed by the Senate — who serve a term of FOURTEEN YEARS.

All old white men like Chairman Powell.

They CAUSE recessions ON PURPOSE by PURPOSELY RAISING INTEREST RATES to make things LESS AFFORDABLE, to allow LESS BORROWING, LESS HOMES BEING PURCHASED, LESS JOBS, TIGHTER ECONOMY.

So, then it goes back to being an employer market and they have the control & leverage again, jobs are tight and scarce, the economy sucks and the job market is challenging.

Just how they want it.

People are less likely to take a chance, pursue off beat opportunities, take risks — which are all of the things that lead to learning & growth often times especially when you fail — its not based on whether its a "successful" outcome — its based on, did you learn anything from your various challenges, trials & tribulations.

Did you learn anything as a person? Were you challenged? Did you grow? Did you learn life lessons? Did you gain resilience? Did you gain confidence in who you were as a person?

Its not really about — did you make money? Was it profitable? Was it a financial success?

Its — did you learn more about your SELF — your actual self as a person — your dreams, your inspirations, your moxie, your fire, your spirit, your verve, your juju, your juice, your essence, your uniqueness, what makes you you.

Did you challenge yourself? Did you grow as a person?

Did you change, evolve, transform?

Did you alchemize your experiences?

Did you elevate? Did you change your state of mind & state of being?

Sometimes those lessons can actually only come from conventional "failure".

They want people operating in a low 3D mindset that just has them endlessly chasing clout, titles, prestige & companys brand names. Influence, Wealth. Money. Material things. Possessions. The flex. Vacations. Homes. Cars. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. Makeup. Luxury.

Chasing. The energy of want, lack, need. Scarcity mindset. Fear. Feelings of worthlessness & inadequacy. Envy & jealousy. Bitterness. Self doubt. Mental exhaustion & fatigue. Desperation.

The vibes of, "I'll take anything I can get. I hope they want me. So many other people have been laid off."

Fear of additional layoffs.

Chasing stability & security as the goal instead of change, discomfort, transformation & alchemization.

Surface, no substance.

Gloss & shine, no substance.

So, the Fed repeatedly causes recessions at scripted, planned, timed intervals. Then they will cut the interest rates & the economy will predictably grow.

If you question the Federal Reserve — why cant it be abolished? Why cant we go back to the gold standard? Why cant we go back to a time where there was no central banking authority?

You will invariably be told the following:

Shut the fuck up, you're not an economist.

Something something Panic of 1907.

Something something without the Fed there would be constant recessions every 3 to 5 years.

Something something the US is the worlds default currency so the Fed is necessary.

Something something inflation would be out of control.

Notice that none of the trite responses above actually even addresses anything that I typed prior — that the recessions are on PURPOSE.

The Feds website clearly & plainly states this — they seek to ensure "maximum employment" while "avoiding inflation" — why do you think they seek "maximum employment"?

They want people to be insecure, unsure of themselves, stressed, pressed, depressed & obsessed.

They dont want people trying new things, taking chances, taking risks, failing in order to learn, failing in order to grow, failing in order to transform.

They dont want people alchemizing.

They dont want people questioning THEIR current system.

If you look at LinkedIn's screaming headlines about the Fed's interest rate cuts — dont they seem a bit scripted to you? A bit contrived & forced? A bit transparent & obvious?

Almost to the point of parody?

Do you actually think anyone in power's actual goal is for people to be employed, satisfied, content, financially solvent, not drowning in debt, not panicking, not struggling to pay bills, not struggling to afford groceries, struggling to pay rent, to keep a roof over their heads, working multiple jobs, part time & full time, living in fear of yet another layoff, another reduction in force, becoming "redundant"?

Living in fear of endless online applications, auto rejections, ghosting, being unemployed for months after unemployment runs out, being evicted, losing your house, living out of your car, having your car repossessed, furniture repossessed, couch surfing, being homeless?

Being overly grateful & sucking off whichever employer deigns to give them an actual job, falling in line, vowing to never move around again, never leave again, never quit without a job lined up again, as the job search process — BY DESIGN — is too arduous, too debilitating, too soul crushing, too confidence killing, too draining, too depressing, too fatiguing, too exhausting, too humiliating, too crushing to your humanity, too inhumane?

And then you bust your ass, stay put & get laid off anyway.

And youre too drained, too tired, too depressed, too exhausted, too fatigued to even think about starting your own business, to even think about freelancing, to even think about creating social media content with the hopes of monetizing it, to even think about being a delivery driver for Doordash, to even think about delivering groceries for Instacart, to even think about being a rideshare driver for Lyft, to even think about using your expertise to start a knowledge as a service (KAAS) coaching or consulting business, to even think about becoming an author, to even think about becoming a public speaker...

To even think.

Just the way they want it.

They want you obsessively chasing money your entire career. Along with basing your entire identity & self-worth on a job title and name brand company that can be taken away from you at any time and at any moment.

They want you breathlessly monitoring every movement that Powell & the Fed makes, reading every prediction, waiting for every interest rate cut, every half point.

Salivating & waiting.

Hanging on their every word, every speech, every update.

Like a conditioned Pavlovian dog.

They want you believing the lie that the economy is doing well right now??????????

With the US presidential election literally next month?

Anyone who is currently job searching like I am right now knows that the US economy is absolute dog shit right now.

Every remote posting has hundreds of applications within literally a few hours.

While on-site positions obviously have way less applicants, the economy is challenging as fuck right now, despite the lies of the Fed to the contrary who keep insisting that we are absolutely not in a recession right now when literally anyone who is currently job searching right now can see that the economy sucks dick with their own eyes.

Never believe what your lying eyes are telling you.

But you should believe the Fed...right?

Because Chairman Powell & the board of governors of the Federal Reserve are NOT appointed by the US President and they DONT serve a term of FOURTEEN years...right?

It's all a script. It's all a set up. It's all on purpose. It's all forced. It's all contrived. It's all programmed.

They want everyone in a 3D mindset.

They dont want people experiencing their ego death, self-ascending into a multidimensional 10D mindset.

Your original mindset before you were born as a human being.

The real, actual you. Prior to your human incarnation. That is a limitless energetic being. Just like your imagination and your dreams — you as a being & entity are also limitless.

They want you to forget and suppress and not remember who and what you really are.

So you stay trapped in the 3D garbage of dog eat dog, competing to get ahead, fucking for clout, starfucking, ego, status, wealth, image, prestige, title, name brand, zeros in bank account, six figures, making it, envy, jealousy, success, excess, vacations, luxury, travel, fashion, cars, flexing, performance reviews, 2% to 3% annual raises, promotions, chasing, lying, cutting corners, scrambling over peoples backs, anything to get ahead, backbiting, kissing ass of all the people that you want to know...

And then the Fed just literally repeats the cycle every few months and every few years.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

I am going to be 43 this month and have already seen this cycle play out again and again within my own lifetime.

But the response is always that the markets didnt respond as predicted, inflation went up too high, the economy was softer than expected, less resilient than expected, consumers were tighter on spending than expected, job market didnt heat up as much as expected, housing market didnt rebound as expected, didnt react as expected.

And its all bullshit.

They want to perpetually keep people in low vibrational energy by ensuring they are always obsessing about, worrying about & endlessly chasing money.

They don't want workers having confidence in themselves to take chances, risks, to have a goal of failing to learn grow transform & alchemize, to quit a job in less than a month, to leave a job without having a job lined up, being a job hopper, starting a business, starting multiple businesses, having a side hustle, having multiple side hustles, becoming a social media content creator with a posting schedule & trying to monetize your content & become a full-time content creator, becoming a freelancer, working fractionally, working as an independent contractor, getting hired as a vendor, getting paid on a 1099, becoming a blogger, author, speaker, coach, consultant...

They dont want you being expansive.

Knowing that your thoughts create your reality.

Being high ass vibes.

They want you stuck in THEIR rat race where they purposely move the cheese around the maze for 50 years then you ask yourself at 65 what the fuck the point of everything was.

[scrambledpancakes03]

Before the presidential debate...

I've got some thoughts.

While I know that even the "best" presidential outcome feels like a loss at this point, you do have to vote.

I totally understand not wanting to vote for Joe. There are a lot of reasons for that, some more valid than others. That's not my point rn. There's many genocides happening: read how joe is handling it from verified sources and make your own choices, I trust you'll do what you think is right. I'll just be here full of endless dread no matter what...

But for fucks sake before we all lose hope please remember...

Vote down ballot.

Conservatives win repeatedly all over the country and have been able to make life substantially harder for every individual working person, especially those with marginalized statuses... and it's not primarily due to the shit they've pulled in the Oval Office... it's because they're getting elected to sheriff's offices and school boards and zoning commissions and STATE LEGISLATURES.

Don't let your disillusionment with the president keep you from showing up for candidates you won't hear about from national news... because they are the ones who can save us.

Without progressives, leftists, and even more moderate liberals in local offices, every aspect of life gets substantially harder. Local programs shut down, public services are cut from city budgets, and police keep getting more and more absurd militarized resources. And in that environment, how would we ever stand in solidarity with people suffering around the world? Or even people marginalized here in the US?

Here are some (but not all) elected offices that may be on your ballot in the fall that need your attention in no particular order:

1. Secretary of state: oversees the states record keeping... including voting. Don't let them be fascists.

2. School Board: they decide pretty much everything to do with public school's funding, curriculum, and sometimes even personnel matters or district geography. They decide what your kids learn, where, how, and with whom. Don't let them be bigots.

3. District Attorney/Prosecutor: they decide what crimes have charges brought against them, and in what manner. They're the difference between a teenage kid being tried as an adult or a child for a felony, as well as other matters like that. Don't let them be racist.

4. Sheriff: have insane amounts of power over how criminal investigations are conducted and how a community is policed. FOR FUCKS SAKE STOP ELECTING RACISTS. Also we should just... reconsider the concept and maybe try not having sheriff offices at all. But that's a whole different goal.

5. Planning and zoning commissions: if you are struggling to get housing or stay housed, they are the reason there is little to no affordable housing in your area, because they decide what gets built or maintained in your area. Businesses, parks, houses... yeah. Don't let them be corporate puppets.

6. Public works commission: they control the utilities, the water, the trash, and the recycling. This is one of the main places the environmental movement should be looking to make change. They write regulations that can be used and enforced to reign whole groups of people and corporations in to make real collective change in the way we generate power, consume resources, and manage waste. They are also how we prevent more crisis situations like the one in Flint, MI.

7. City, state, and federal legislators. They write the laws. They appropriate the spending of your tax money. Stop narrowing your focus to the federal executive branch when the left needs to gain momentum writing laws at every level. Don't discount local change, because it adds up.

I know we are all focused on the genocides going on around the world right now. The best way we can continue helping as November comes and goes, is to elect local leaders who will support global liberation by writing laws and regulations that protect our free speech, ensure the quality and equity of our education, and commit to divestment from violence all over the world.

Okay? We all got this?

Can we all just agree to do this part, and we can fight about biden separately, please?

TLDR: Fuck you, vote in all the local races.

[chasefaux]

the way vi was just so full of anxiety seeing the only living loved one she has so rapidly change into the exact opposite of what she liked about her, for what she fell in love with her – this maybe naive rich girl from the piltover, but someone who was just so kind and brave and understanding, and who was just so prepared to fight for the rights of the undercity in front of the council after only two days she's spent there– she had to see this girl switch into this controlling, cold-blooded, thirsty for revenge cop who has the privilege of not having to stop. and vi couldn't even be mad at her because she understood what it's like. to lose a parent. because she's lost at least three. so she kept her mouth shut and listened to her orders and let cait send to jail and endanger everyone. because she knew people can get angry and violent and act different when dealing with the emptiness death of a loved one brings you. vi punched her little sister, no? something she swore to never do and something she will forever regret, because that's what made jinx. the jinx that killed cait's mom and the jinx their mission is to eliminate and vi just feels so completely guilty.

and then in the tunnel, after they take a break because she can't handle the "new" cait anymore, the only pillar she now has, cait assures her that it's still her and promises vi that she won't change and kisses her which is something they probably hadnt done before and it confirms to vi that yes she is loved back by cait in the same way and as much as she loves her and that they are a pair, those two vs the injustice of the world they live in, just like during those two days, and vi's shoulders literally fall from being freed of so much worry and uncertainties and she lets her gloves hit the ground the ones she called the solution to all the problems up until now just so she could embrace her. and then it all goes horribly wrong, cait doesn't give two shits if vi's okay after the whole fucking room fell on them and vi can't understand how on earth could a revenge mean more to cait than a little kids life, it feeling like such a betrayal, a wake up call to vi, someone who would do the first and last for a kid in need, and when she confronts her all she gets is. "you're just like them". 'them' like the terrorists from zaun she called animals. that are on drugs and kill a mass of mourning people on the street. and then she adds that "she kept telling herself that you're different" so she had doubts about her for much longer and that no, those two weren't a pair and she doesn't see regular zauns like People but all as dangerous and disgusting and until then just thought of vi as if she was a separate category, not to be mixed in with those. that she's tired of pretending that vi's different and when vi calls her out on her obsessive behaviour she just. fucking hits her in her stomach. and vi ends up alone again trapped in that fucking room with no one to be by her side and no real reason to fight on any side of the war that will be, not for zaun because she no longer has a sister there she needs to protect and definitely no piltover, where no one fucking wants her, so she just 'waits it out' or fucking. quits. I'm sick. my chest hurts so bad

I can't even I knew it's gonna destroy me but I binge watched it anyway and now I'm trying to collect my thoughts because it's wayy past midnight and I need to go to sleep but I cantttt

[imakeupthingsaboutkilljoys]

Look Alive, Sunshine / Na Na Na

Look alive, sunshine 109 in the sky, but the pigs won't quit 109 is his radio frequency, the 'pigs' refer to anyone working under BL/ind (so, Dracs, Exterminators, and SCARECROWS). You're here with me, Dr. Death-Defying I'll be your surgeon, your proctor Your helicopter Pumpin' out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you alive The purpose of his radio station is to guide Killjoys through the desert. Does it imply that he's guiding newer escapees? It works, especially considering that this is the first track on the album; we're the new Killjoys he's guiding. A system failure for the masses Anti-matter for the master plan Fighting against BL/ind. Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny Killjoys and self-expression. This one's for all of you rock'n'rollers All you crash queens and motor babies Listen up

Conclusion: This is from the perspective of Dr Death. He's guiding us through the Killjoy's world.

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

The future is bulletproof The aftermath is secondary The BL/ind slogan. It's time to do it now and do it loud Killjoys, make some noise Killjoy rebellion and self-expression. Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na Na, na-na, na-na, na-na Na, na-na, na-na, na-na Na-na, na-na, na-na The "na"s are probably taunting/teasing, but could just be singing along. Who knows. Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs The BL/ind methods of mind manipulation. Eight legs to the wall The fab four logo (the spider). Is it because they're pests to BL/ind? Hit the gas, kill 'em all And we crawl, and we crawl, and we crawl Crawling through life, out of sight of BL/ind. Also a spider logo reference. From mall security To every enemy We're on your property Standing in V formation No matter how hard people try and exterminate them, they will find a way to rebel. Let's blow an artery Referenced in the music lyric video to be about fast food, possibly linked to American consumerism. Eat plastic surgery BL/ind prioritises conformity---is plastic surgery encouraged in Battery City? Keep your apology Give us more detonation Oh, let me tell you 'bout the sad man Shut up and let me see your jazz hands Reference to "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who. They are seen as villains in the eyes of BL/ind, but really they just want freedom. Remember when you were a madman Thought you was Batman And hit the party with a gas can Their aspirations to be heroes. Kiss me, you animal More freedom of expression, especially if this has queer subtext. You run the company Fuck like a Kennedy The link between freedom and power. I think we'd rather be Burning your information Anti-corporation sentiment. And right here Right now All the way in Battery City Battery City is the city run by BL/ind. The little children Raise their open filthy palms Like tiny daggers up to heaven Rebellion and a (possibly) futile hope for freedom. And all the juvie halls The people apprehended for fighting the norms. And the Ritalin rats The people who were controlled by BL/ind medication. Ask angels made from neon And fucking garbage Radioactive. Scream out, "What will save us?" And the sky opened up Reference to Destroya, possibly. More likely it's their belief that the Girl will play a major role in taking down BL/ind. Everybody wants to change the world Everybody wants to change the world But no one, no one wants to die They know they'll need to sacrifice themselves to make their difference. Make no apology It's death or victory Again, knowing they must sacrifice themselves. On my authority Crash and burn, young and loaded Power in the youth. Drop like a bullet shell People will need to drop (die) in order to succeed. Dress like a sleeper cell Wait for the word that victory is near. I'd rather go to hell Than be in purgatory It's better to die a sinner than have done nothing to stop a worse evil. Purgatory could also reference BL/ind mind control. Cut my hair Gag and bore me Removing self-expression and liberation. Pull this pin Let this world explode Reference to the Girl's fate.

Conclusion: This is all of the fab four singing, like an anthem for the Killjoys, and establishes their desires, beliefs, and goals.

[leonenjoyer69]

It has been demanded of me to drop everything I had made for an unshared BMC x TGS AU I thought up back in March :3 I honestly don't remember much of it, but I apparently wrote a shit ton, so here's that straight from my drafts and writing app--

First! The original Tumblr draft!:

Guys guys, hear me out, TGS "Be More Chill" AU thingy.

Hyde is Jekylls SQUIP, and boy is he defective. Self loathing is of course still in order, but also he's constantly telling Jekyll to do really impulsive things. Oh, this guys being an asshole? PUNCH HIS ASS JEKYLL! holy shit, hot theatre boy Lanyon? Kiss him kiss him ASK HIM OUT YOU WUSS-

Hyde SQUIP doesn't want complete world control via SQUIPs tho bc all the other ones are too "boring", he just kinda wants to do whatever and "fix" this really nerdy Scottish boy.

And then, what I had in my writing app (which was a lot jfc):

TGS au that is vaguely inspired by BMC >:3

Henry and Robert share a dorm room at this university (Henry is big gay for Lanyon ofc). At this University, Jekyll has created this science club, Students for Arcane Science (of course there's also all sorts of mythical curiosities in this world, so it's still got all the ghosts and creatures and werewolves) with the help of Dr Maijabi (who's a teacher in this mayhaps, otherwise itd be Mrs Frankenstein). This club is just to bring people who are very passionate about their scientific fields together to talk and share experiments and things, and to perhaps do experiments together. One day, someone in passing (perhaps Pennebrygg) mentions this odd new Japanese technology to Jekyll, since he's so enraptured by chemistry and matters of the mind and soul, and Jekylls nerd ass immediately wants to know more about it. So, being the science-driven guy he is, he immediately sets out to get his hands on one to try, because hey, maybe this cool little pill will give him the confidence to actually ask out Lanyon and to make other people like him more. Too bad he gets a defective one. He doesn't know that though! So, of course his first course of action is to absolutely grill this SQUIP thing-- who so quickly insisted that he was to be called Hyde (what an odd name for this oddly dressed lad)-- on how he worked (I like to think Jekylls Scottish accent slips out more when he gets enthusiastic or when he's rushing, Lanyon has to remind him a lot to "speak English"). Hyde doesn't really care to answer most of these questions, but he relents on one condition, that Jekyll shuts the fuck up long enough for him to make it home so he's not caught talking to himself like a maniac in public. So, cue a montage of Jekyll barely containing his wonder and excitement as this brash little creature walking beside him (Hyde doesn't like being locked away in the mind, so hes persistent about keeping a physical manifestation of himself if able) explains how he was created (well, to the extent hes allowed to). Eventually though, he gets kinda bored and just begins poking fun at Jekyll and the people they come across, running around doing silly things that he knows only Jekyll can see, and Jekyll kinda gets a kick out of it. Eventually they make it back to Jekylls dorm, where Lanyons just lazing around. (Im unsure if Jekyll  should reveal that he got the SQUIP to Lanyon or if it should be kept a secret from him, since he wants to use it to get with him and all). Hyde probably makes some quip about Jekyll having good taste or something, studying Lanyon super closely. Jekyll gets super flustered and kinda runs off to somewhere where he can talk to Hyde one on one. When talking, Jekyll reveals what he wants help with: 1. Getting with Lanyon, and 2. Just being able to fit in more and get people to actually like him. Hyde agrees (of course, he doesn't have much else of a choice considering he's bound to this nerd now) and starts coming up with increasingly wild and morally questionable plans.

Hyde's whole thing is that he's defective- not in a "I wanna take over this place/the world", but in more of a way where he wants to live vicariously through Henry. He can't live his own life because of what he is, and for some reason, despite how he was supposed to be created, he's less "calm, calculated computer" and more "impulsive spit fire". He feels things that he's probably not supposed to, but hey, that's not for him to dwell on. (It'd be really cool if at some point Henry tried giving Hyde his own body, mayhaps either with Mr Tanis, Pennebrygg, or Frankensteins help) so, Hyde let's this impulsivity guide him through "helping" Henry, which makes Henry's control and ability to ignore the increasingly wild things Hyde tells him to say or do (for example, telling him to punch a fellow student for looking at him snide, or to tell Lanyon that his smile is beautiful)

____

Yeah, clearly more inspired by BMC than like, a straight kinda insert AU, but idk thinking on it now it could definitely be changed a decent bit to fit BMC more. But!!! There's that, to the people that were curious lmao

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 12

“Fuck you” you shouted and slammed the door shut, leaving a whimper at the pain on your hand.

Azriel disappeared for two weeks, you knew he was still in the house, but he avoided you like the plague. At first you didn’t mind his absence but now two weeks later your hands wouldn’t stop trembling no matter how often you massaged them, it wasn’t the same. Azriel’s touch was like a light breeze on your hands, yet it was hard enough to release the pressure of the muscles and even though you spent more than an hour every day trying to sooth your aching ends it wasn’t enough. You tried looking for him in the house and even sent Claude to find him but failed miserably. You knew that Claude found him even though it hissed in your ear that it wouldn’t lie to you and you decided to act like you believed it in fear of losing the only part of him you had left. That was a thought that you kept deep in your mind under several locks to hide it from Rhysand and even yourself. In the past two weeks you realized that Azriel’s silence and darkness felt soothing and gave you the will to regain the control of your life. With a sigh you decided to join the night family for dinner, you wrapped your hands with bandages to hide the tremor and walked to the dining room. Everyone was already sitting around the big table -Azriel too and their heads snapped to you. The shadowsinger immediately glanced at your wrapped hands and frowned.

After a few greetings you sat across him and fell into conversation with Nesta.

Cassian cleared his throat interrupting you “You missed training today” he said to you.

You quickly scanned around the table and almost blushed when everyone’s eyes fell on you.

“I was tired” you mumbled.

“Will you come tomorrow?” he pressed.

“I don’t think so, I need some time for myself” you lied and hid your hands under the table.

No one seemed to notice except for Azriel who kept staring at you with furrowed brows. He nudged your foot with his own and shook his head questioningly when you looked at him. Oh now he cares. You thought and rolled your eyes before looking away and ignoring him for the rest of the dinner.

“I want to talk to you about something” Rhysand spoke to you. You nodded and waited for him to continue. “I talked with Helion and we would like to try something on your hands”.

You blinked. “What?”

“Maybe he can speed up the process of healing and maybe make the scars less visible.” He stared at you, trying to read your face.

“Maybe?” you asked.

“He doesn’t think he will be able to do that now, if he was here when it happened he is certain that he would make them disappear or at least not visible from a certain distance.” He explained.

You snorted “well if you go to Hewn City and I stay here you won’t be able to see them now, so certain distance doesn’t actually make a difference.”

Rhysand smirked and shook his head. “Anyway he agreed to speed up the healing process so you can continue training without pain. Cassian told me that you started your full training again and that you cry out every time you punch.”

He was right and even though you hadn’t met Helion, everyone said that he is kind and fair. “I would like that” you replied and Azriel scoffed.

“Tell her” he snarled at Rhysand making you stare the high lord questioningly.

“During the session you will be in tremendous pain.” He said softly. “Helion’s power will pierce through your wounded skin in order to heal you from inside out.”

“But my hands healed weeks ago that’s why Madja took off the bandages.”

“The outer layer healed, the damage was deep that’s why it hurts every time you touch something, Madja took the bandages off because the risk of getting infected doesn’t exist anymore.” Rhys explained. “But from what I can see you wrapped them again.”

You hid your hands even deeper under the table and sighed. “It soothes me” you replied.

“So should I invite Helion here?” he asked.

You didn’t know why but your eyes fell on Azriel, and you tried to figure out if he agrees. The shadowsinger stared back at you and quirked a brow. “It’s your decision” his expression seemed to say even though he remained silent.

Nesta noticed the small interaction and cleared her throat. “What do you think about this Azriel?” she asked and her hand fell on your thigh leaving a soft squeeze.

“I.. why me? It’s her decision.” He stuttered.

“Because you’ve been through this” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“If I had the opportunity then I think I would take it.” He shrugged.

You thought about it, everyone must be thinking that you’re a fool for not replying immediately but you’ve been in tremendous pain before, and you weren’t sure if you would survive it again. If Helion managed to help you then you would be able to go on missions with the girls, Cassian had said that they would start in a few weeks. But if he failed the healing process might be delayed.

“What if he fails?” you asked Rhysand.

“He won’t, at least on the healing part” he replied.

You hummed. “I don’t really care about the scars I have already made peace with the thought of having them forever”.

Azriel stared at his plate with a frown at the last statement.

“Okay I’ll do it” you announced.

“Perfect, please consider this an apology for the way you’ve been treated here.” Rhysand said and you nodded.

After dinner was over you returned to your room and Azriel slipped inside before you could close the door.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him but didn’t show your irritation not wanting to push him away.

“You bandaged your hands again” he noted.

With a sigh you unwrapped them and let him see the tremor and twitching.

“You’re not massaging them?” he frowned and quickly moved to your nightstand to take the ointment.

“I do but they won’t stop” you huffed.

He patted the bed “Come here”.

You quickly obliged and he knelt in front of you before grabbing your hands and started massaging them. His touch made you shudder and immediately your muscles relaxed. You suppressed a moan and closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of relief.

“Thank you” you whispered.

“I’m sorry for disappearing, I should’ve been here to help you.” he replied.

You took a deep breath. “I was awful to you, I just got so mad because you treated me differently and I reacted so poorly. I don’t blame you for what happened to me, at least not entirely.”

“I know… but I think you’re wrong. It’s entirely my fault and I will spend the rest of my life punishing myself for it” he shook his head “I don’t know why I always mess it up with you, I told you that I would help you heal and then I disappeared even though I knew that it was normal for you to react this way.”

“Maybe the Cauldron was wrong” you whispered, and he froze. “It usually is so easy between mates but look at us, we keep fighting and hurting each other with our words.”

He shook his head. “You should have seen Nesta and Cassian…” he paused “It doesn’t matter… we will reject the bond whenever you want.”

“I don’t want you to go mad” you stated.

“I won’t… I’m way stronger than most males.”

“Still this is something ancient…”

“Why do you care?” he asked and let go of your hands.

“Because I don’t want to harm you, even though you despise me, I don’t.” you shrugged.

“I don’t despise you” he furrowed his brows “listen… I know that I was a complete asshole to you, and I don’t want to defend myself for it, but I just wanted to keep you at a distance and to be honest the first days I completely hated the way you grew up. I kept thinking that you would never understand what I’ve been through, and I hated that I didn’t have the opportunity to be raised in a loving home like you. I guess I envied you.”

“You called me a princess…” you snorted “I grew up in a small cottage, we never bathed with hot water and some days we didn’t have food. My parents didn’t love me, they loved my potential… they called me their savior and brainwashed me so I could become an obedient little housewife to someone who would give them money and make their life easier. They wouldn’t care if my husband was abusive as long as they could enjoy his wealth.”

Azriel’s breath hitched, and you continued “It was really painful to realize all of this, but I did it when I came here and saw how the other females were. You see in my village most of the girls were brainwashed like me, so we never noticed that something was off. I’ve heard a few things about everyone’s past here and I know that it was way worse than mine but that doesn’t change the fact that I was abused too. I might not be able to understand your trauma, but I will respect it and I will stand next to all of you and support you if needed.”

Azriel’s eyes watered and he shook his head.  “I wish I could go back in time and change the way I treated you.”

You smiled softly at that “I think we should let the past go and focus on the present, we ruined the bond between us but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“Do you think we can leave all of this behind?” he asked sincerely.

“I think that it will take time and there will be times that we will fight but we will figure everything out eventually.”

He stood up and left the ointment on your nightstand.

“I’m willing to try it, maybe we can go to the city tomorrow I think I owe you a proper tour” he smiled.

“I would like that!” you smiled back, and he headed to the door.

“Azriel.” You called him and he stopped. “I would really appreciate if you came to my sessions with Helion… if you have time… Its okay if you don’t want to” you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Of course I’ll come” he said and with that he was gone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helion arrived the next day, ruining your plans with Azriel to go to the city. Rhysand explained to him what you talked about and then he left you with Helion and Azriel.

“I will start with the left one” Helion explained and took your hand between his warm palms. “When I heal most of the damage, we will do both simultaneously” he informed you and you nodded. “You will feel a lot of pain, do you want something to bite?”

“Should I?” you asked, and he nodded.

Azriel quickly left the room and came back with a piece of leather.

“This used to be a belt, I washed it” he informed you and gave it to you.

“Okay let’s do this” you said and bit down on the leather.

Helion’s eyes became brighter, and you felt his power piercing through your skin, your eyes watered and the piece of leather seemed to groan at the pressure. You felt nauseous and goosebumps appeared on your soft skin. Azriel immediately grabbed your other arm a bit higher than where the damage was, and his shadows slithered around your body anxiously. The pain made you see stars and you were sure you would faint, but Azriel’s siphons started beaming and you felt a wave of power inside you, urging you to stay strong. His shadows hissed at Helion but remained on you, wiping away your tears and caressing your cheeks. Sweat was running down on Helion’s forehead, and his eyes closed before he stopped.

“I need a minute” he panted and walked out.

Azriel immediately removed the belt from your mouth and fetched you a glass of water. “You did so good” he praised you and removed a strand of hair from your face.

You could only nod.

“Should we stop?” he asked you worriedly.

“No no” you mumbled and took a deep breath.

Helion walked inside again and grabbed your right hand. You nodded and Azriel placed the belt between your teeth.

Everything repeated and Azriel’s power flowed in your body giving you strength and you could swear that it took some of the pain away. When Helion was done your eyelids felt heavy and your body gave up. The last thing you felt was Azriel as he carried you to your room and tucked you in, he probably thought that you were unconscious because before he left he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

If I forgot to tag someone please let me know! If someone wants to be removed from the taglist please tell me I won't be offended. What do you think about Chapter 12?

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839, @fasoaurore, @pinksmellslikelove, @bunnyredgirl, @lectoracronica, @tuggboatfishin, @sunnysideup000, @blessthepizzaman, @raisinggray, @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @tsunami-of-tears, @just-a-social-casualty-1, @thelov3lybookworm, @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars, @strangersunghoon , @sosuitcandy , @cat-or-kitten, @ohthemisssery, @starsinyourseyes, @no1massassin, @stained-glass-eyes0708, @vellichor01, @hnyclover, @miraclepirate , @amara-moonlight.

[mr2swap]

-Jackson But what the fuck are you doing, young man? You've lost your mind? Go straight to your room and no internet or video games - I can't believe how irresponsible my son is, he and I switched bodies just a couple of days ago, and he's already breaking the rules, he knew that "wish" his grandfather gave him for his birthday. He'd get us in trouble. I never thought he'd want to trade places.

-Listen, dad, It's very hot, and I had a very heavy day at work, Of course, you don't know what that is now, So you better shut your mouth before I shut you because I'm not in the mood to your sermons- I was speechless listening to my little 8-year-old son with such rude vocabulary I approached him a little and to my surprise, he stank of beer, I looked up looking at my ancient and hairy body of almost 2 meters, The smell of beer was unmistakable. But besides that smell Jackson was stinking up, the smell of a working man fills my little nostrils, making me wince a little.

-JACKSON SMITH, ARE YOU DRUNK?! - For a moment Jackson stopped drinking his beer and looked down at me, frowned and put on a serious and somewhat annoyed face, then continued drinking the beer bottle until it was completely empty. He left it on the kitchen table, making a noise that made me jump in fright.

- yes "dad" Do you have a problem with that?, before returning home I went with my new friends to the bar that is near the construction company, and you know what? I'm going out with the boys again on the weekend, So I'm going to leave you with “your” mother So that you ask her stupid questions and not me-

-But what's wrong with you? Young man, I order you to open your wish right now if you don't want me to… - before I could finish the sentence, Jackson used his long legs to stand in front of me, put his hands on his hips, and smile at me.

-What are you going to do? Punish me? Take away my Nintendo? Or leave me without dinner? I think you still don't understand Who the boss is But don't worry "son" I'm going to solve it right now-Without giving myself a second to run I grab my armpits and in one movement I get up and walk towards his room while I screamed, and I hit his chest to try to get him to put me down it was so humiliating to be carried like a toy or a child….

He opened the door to his own room and laid me on the small bed Decorated with the Superman logo that to me was now huge. -Listen well son because I'm only going to repeat this once, Now I'm the father, so you have to obey me Like a good son, Or you'll know what it feels like to be grounded for the rest of your young life-

I was trembling with fear for the first time in my life his voice was serious, and he had more than enough self-confidence, and on the other hand, I almost peed in my shorts knowing that I had lost all control of my son and my own house, I nodded silently trying to avoid his penetrating and intimidating gaze that seemed to enjoy every minute of this.

-very good! Now that we clear this up Finish your homework and if you're good the rest of the day we'll order Pizza for dinner- He put his huge, heavy and calloused hand on my head and caressed my hair and messed it up at the same time, he turned around and walked out of the room closing it before leaving.

I just hope that this situation is reversed before my son becomes a complete monster, now I better finish my math homework I don't want my new "dad" to be upset that he's drunk.

----

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!