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almostheav4n · 6 months ago

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Tomorrow Never Came: Chapter 2

masterlist | ao3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ warnings: unspecified age gap, hints at past SA, no break-out, no y/n, no reader description, discussion of past trauma, reader develops a reliance on him, hints at a ddlg relationship in terms of a caregiver x little relationship (reader is of legal age) word count: 3,693 summary: set in Texas in the 1980s, Joel picks you up on the side of the road when headed west, you embark upon a journey of self-discovery with the help of a seasoned man a/n: lots of fluff in this chapter before it gets real - Joel honestly doesn't seem like a guy who would rush anything so he gets a little push by the reader :p

“He looks like he works with his hands & smells like Marlboro reds…”

The morning light pierces through the flimsy motel curtain as you toss over on the mattress, stuffing your face into the pillows, as you blink away your grogginess.

The sudden pounding at your door is enough to jolt you awake as you realize suddenly it’s Joel, springing up to sit on the bed before checking the time.

“Bout ready to head out?” His voice bellows from outside the door, slower and thicker from his own sleep. You can see the outline of him through the window and it makes you hyper-aware you haven’t washed up in the slightest, quickly giving yourself a smell as you lift your arms.

It’s easy to tumble out of bed, tripping onto the floor, attempting to hurry as you stumble over the sheets, closer to the door, “Um, I um, just need a few minutes, maybe you can get breakfast or somethin’, I dunno, Ill be ready then…”

You huff and puff trying to find your discarded clothes from the night, cursing yourself for not washing them the night before, smelling them, and finding it honestly quite fine, thank god.

“No…” You can hear him thinking. “Ya need’ta eat, I’ll make myself busy, take your time,” He mumbles departing with two knuckle knocks on the door as you watch his figure disappear.

You find yourself surprised by his reaction, half expecting him to get annoyed, maybe rush you at least. You wonder deep down if it’s a trick and you’ll find his truck gone.

The truck remains there, however, spotting it in the lot after a good half hour of scrubbing your teeth clean and taking a hot shower to wipe away any grime left by sleep.

You knock on the only door next to you, finding that Joel isn’t it. Eventually taking it upon yourself to find him.

It’s not hard to spot him, dressed in fresh attire, forgetting he had planned on this trip & packed for it accordingly. His handheld luggage at his side while he talks to a woman, a young woman, probably around your age as they pass a cigarette between them. She laughs at something you can’t hear as she passes it back to him.

You are quite well aware he doesn’t owe you anything, he doesn’t owe you any sense of loyalty, in fact, you feel in debt to him. But the rock in your belly sits hard as you come to understand he is a solid man, a good man. Women will want him, he’ll inevitably attract him and it’s stupid of you to feel jealous as he leans over to talk to her, wishing it was you.

Bitterness is ugly, sits on your tongue quite heavily though, makes your fingers flex as you cough, loudly, a bit too loudly, gaining both their attention as Joel’s back straightens up before turning to you, breathing the bit of smoke left from his nostrils.

“Ready, darlin’?” He adjusts the luggage in his hand, walking over to take the bag in your hands, once used for the new shoes, now used for all your belongings that were shoved in your utility jacket pockets, feeling lighter for the first time in months.

You happily allow him to, nodding up to him in approval as he tosses the girl a farewell before turning back to lead you to the truck, allowing for you to cut your eyes back at her. Watching as she returns a similar annoyed expression.

He opens the door for you before getting in on his side and sliding the bags underneath the seats, starting up the truck with a quick motion.

“Who’s the chick?” You hum, attempting to seem as nonchalant as possible, hoping not to come across any other way.

“Not sure, wanted a smoke, only had one left,” He shrugs, pulling the vehicle out of the lot and onto the road with a few harsh bumps.

You nod, twiddling your thumbs in a circle as you bite your lip back, calculating your response.

“Jealous?”

You don't expect it, your head shooting up to find his eyes already on you, a hidden grin where his hand that’s not on the wheel, scratches at his beard as he raises one brow, teasingly.

“Joel, I’m not…..” You shake your head, unable to stop the tremble that knocks your words apart as you attempt to correct him, “I’m not jealous.” You lie.

“Just teasin is all, don’t waste your time worryin’ now…” He chuckles, Texan accent flowing over like honey, focusing his gaze back on the road, leaving you breathless as you feel you didn’t state your case as clearly as you could've. Feeling found out.

You remind yourself to quit the longing glances, that could've given you away.

You don’t even realize you’re still staring at him, lost in your own thoughts but you think you almost miss it, the quirk of the corner of his mouth, a small tinge of redness coming to his face then settling, a blush.

Eventually, he pulls into a lot of a diner. You’re seated quite quickly, in a booth towards the back, menus handed to you as Joel immediately orders a coffee, you stick with a hot chocolate watching Joel's brow raise at that.

“You like sweets huh?”

“I do…” You nod, gaze focused on the menu before looking up to him, “think it’s cause I’m quite sweet too…”

He smiles a bit then, the first actual smile from him, a quick flash of the teeth before disappearing under his thick beard.

“You are… sweet.” He agrees, calculating his words before focusing his attention on the menu, giving you little time to react to his comment.

“Need you to get real food in your system, understand?” His eyes latch onto yours as you nod, desiring the least to see him upset by your actions.

He sets his eyes back on the menu, “Good girl.”

Good girl.

It’s all you can focus on when the waitress returns to drop off drinks and take orders, the wheels in your head turning over the comment, good girl, good girl, good girl.

It isn’t until Joel says your name, alerting you to look up apologetically, ordering a nice stack of pancakes, something you haven’t had in months, allowing her to take the menus.

The hot chocolate presented stacks high with whipped cream, you scoop up a fluff of it in your index finger, bringing it to your mouth to suck gently, gaining the confidence to speak, “Joel?”

His gaze is stern as he looks out the window, focused on some altercation outside between two men over god knows what, “Yeah?”

“You can kiss me ‘f ya want.” You bring the mug to your lips watching as his eyes cut to you, quickly, watching a gulp go down his throat, maintaining his hard exterior nonetheless.

“That right?” His voice is softer than ever, as if he’s whispering a secret as you nod, taking a sip.

You wondered all night if him putting you in another room was an act of kindness or if he maybe was gay or if he didn’t even necessarily view you as anything but platonic. But you want to make yourself clear. You want him to know of your blossoming feelings.

You set the mug down, feeling the whipped cream along your upper lip, tracing your tongue over the spot to remove it, watching as he sucks in a quick breath.

He’s swift, moving from the booth. For a quick moment, you think you may have scared him off. Instead, he slides in next to you, your body pressed between him and the wall by the booth, his burly arm snaking around your waist to pull you close to his chest, as you release a soft quick gasp before his lips connect with yours, your hands holding to his chest to sturdy yourself as his warm mouth opens onto yours feeling his tongue slip into your mouth, velvety smooth.

You moan, too loudly for the small diner as it's absorbed into his mouth, your eyes closing, allowing him to take the lead as his mouth moves against yours roughly and eagerly as if he hasn’t kissed someone in decades, completely at his will.

It isn’t until the sound of plates scraping against the table gains both of your attention as he breaks away suddenly, leaving a whine to linger at your lips as he turns to the waitress who doesn’t seem to care one bit as Joel releases you.

“I’ll be back, gon’ get some fresh air…” He mumbles before sliding out of the booth, running his hands through his hair before setting his hat on, walking towards the door, and soon exiting.

It would worry you if you couldn’t see him, walking towards a payphone outside and making a call.

You wonder what the hurry was but busy yourself with your pancakes, sopping them up in a ridiculous amount of syrup, before digging in.

You eat slowly watching him argue with someone on the phone, his body language showing clear agitation as you sip your beverage.

Eventually, he comes back soon after, apologizing, “Sorry, forgot to make a call earlier…”

He sighs deeply, tearing into his eggs, the runny yolk bleeding onto the sausage on the plate.

“What was that about?” You hum happily, content, patting your full belly.

“Work.”

“Sure it wasn’t your wife?” You test the waters, never noticing a ring but just in case, to be safe.

“Ain’t got a wife,” he stuffs sausage into his mouth, “Think Im’a type of man to smooch on ya before headin’ home to my old lady?”

“You’re older, Joel. Usually, men like you are married…” You tease, rubbing your foot along his leg under the table

“I'm older huh?” He smirks a bit, raising his brow, bringing his coffee mug to his lips.

“Yeah, you’re an old man Joel…” you lean over, resting your elbows on the table as your hands cup your face in admiration, your foot still knocking against his leg.

“What do you do?” You question, desiring to know him fully.

“Construction… just need to make calls every now’n then to make sure dumbasses don’t fuck up while I’m gone.” He clicks his mouth once more, annoyed it seems by the whole interaction on the phone. You decide to leave it alone

He eats quickly, quite loudly too. It makes you want to laugh, all his Southern charm replaced by a grumbling food monster when eating.

He pays the check after finishing, mentioning the need to get you some clothes as the waitress brings by the change, he leaves a tip on the table.

“You don’t like my clothes?” You gasp, fake offended, understanding what he means.

To be fair you hadn’t shoplifted any clothes recently & the jeans that you wore now full of tears and rips matched the shirt that could give at any moment.

“Ya know I can’t pay you back right?” You remind him, following him out as he holds the door open for you.

“I am very well aware of that, sweetheart.” He chuckles lightly as if it’s the most obvious thing you’ve ever stated.

You’re quick to turn to him though, in the middle of the lot, standing on your tiptoes to get the best angle as you press your lips to his once more, quickly, a peck, a little test of the boundaries to see his reaction.

He returns it once you depart, his hand coming around the back of your neck, his mouth crashing onto yours, hot and hungry, before releasing, taking your hand in his warm and dry, leading you to the truck, following the same routine of scanning the lot, opening your door, before focusing on getting back on the road.

The trip before Joel seems to come crashing down on you, the need for rest, the knowing that Joel is there that reassures your safety.

Understanding you have true protection is enough to have you falling asleep in the seat until the jolt of the brakes has you blinking back the sun that has begun to slip below the horizon, realizing you slept through the day.

“C'mon, sleeping beauty…” Joel jokes lightly, as your passenger's side door opens.

You groan, too loudly and in an extremely un-lady like manner, stretching out your limbs as you smack open a yawn, clearing the sleep from your eyes.

“Did I really sleep that long?” you murmur as Joel wraps his arm around your waist, hoisting you out with a surprised squeal as your feet connect with the pavement, a giggle spilling from your lips.

“Sure did…” He helps to straighten you out, pulling your shirt down where it exposes your stomach slightly.

You allow him, feeling pampered as he observes you to make sure you’re put together before giving you a hard nod, approving of his work.

He takes your hand as you finally gain full consciousness, leading you into the building labeled ‘WAL MART’

Passing cars in the lot, you’re able to read ‘New Mexico’ on the license plates as you become aware you’re in a new state. Once in the shopping center, a buggy is presented as Joel turns to you, looking down at you with a familiar hard gaze, and for some reason, you come to understand when he’s wearing this look, he’s serious and means business. His eyes narrowing in and focusing as you know he needs you to listen as you look back up at him, blinking up at him as if he is the only thing that matters in the world.

“You’re gonna go get some clothes and a bag to store 'em in, I need you to fill er up-” referencing the buggy, “I'll be ‘round, getting supplies alright?”

He adjusts his pants, fidgeting on his belt as he looks around and then back to you.

You nod, offering a little salute followed by a ‘yes sir’ and giggle before he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, sending you on your way.

You do indeed, fill’er up with an assortment of clothes, pajamas, bras, underwear, some shorts, skirts, jeans, and an arrangement of tops and you find a duffel bag that could surely hold it all. You also decide to shop for some feminine care items, sniffing at the different body & hair washes for far too long before finally making your way to find him.

After looking down far too many aisles, you find him in the firearm section, talking to the worker who shows him a certain gun. You keep planted where you are, not wishing to interrupt, studying him, admiring him as he purchases it at the counter.

You could've sworn he had one in the truck, saw it in passing. Maybe he just needs another you think, just in case.

“Starin ain’t too friendly baby doll...” He mutters taking control of the grocery cart before pushing it, sliding his basket on top filled with first aid and other basic necessities.

“Just too handsome, can’t help it,” you apologize with a teasing shrug, looping your arm into his as you walk.

He gives you a slight snort before you make it to the checkout stand. His hard hand pushes you back slightly out of the way so he can unload the cart.

You busy yourself as you pick up a nearby magazine off a rack, the corny headline gaining your attention as you flip through it, only for Joel to snatch it from you.

“Hey!” You whine, nose scrunching up in annoyance as he hands it to the cashier who scans it before he hands it back to you, nudging you out of the way a bit more as he throws the bagged items back into the cart.

A certain freedom is found as you skip back to the truck, no worries or cares as Joel hollers at you to slow down, the sun now gone, making it easy for a car to hit you, you realize.

You offer to help pack the bags into the back only for Joel to shoot you a disapproving look, that has you piling into the truck with a quickness.

Eventually, you both are able to make it to a nearby motel. He tells you that you can stay in the car as he pulls up to the lobby of the motel.

You decide against it, opening the door as the car barely rolls to a stop.

“Hey now…” Joel warns, still in the vehicle as he sighs, stressed. Kinda makes your heart beat, his worried reaction.

“You need to wait till I'm in park and I’ll open the door for you… you understand that?” He speaks seriously once he exits the vehicle, his eyes cutting down at you as his hands place on his hips, seemingly exhausted by your antics as you nod, moving closer to him as your feet scrape against the pavement.

Your body collides against his chest as you lean up against him to kiss the scar on his nose before reaching up to grab his hat, setting it on your head instead.

“I got it Joel, but how do I look?” You swiftly change the conversation as he folds his arms over his chest, veins prominent as he flexes lightly.

“You’re as pretty as a peach in June, ‘f I say so myself, now c’mon…” He offers a small smile before reaching his hand out.

You take it, sliding your own against it before taking your other hand to cover the other side of his, keeping a two-handed grip as he leads you into the lobby that plays 60’s music & holds an older dude at the front counter who reads a Playboy magazine.

It takes Joel about a second to place you behind him, before walking up to the counter to greet the guy who speaks in grunts.

“How many rooms yall need?”

“One!” You squeak out, poking out from behind his back before Joel pushes you back behind him.

“Alright, one room, two beds…” Joel mumbles, fishing into his pocket for his wallet as you pout.

“Joel…” you grumble, fingers tracing along his brawny back.

“You ain’t getting me into trouble tonight,” He whispers over his shoulder as you can’t help but break out into a smile. He’s old, probably too tired from the drive, you try to remember to tease him about just that.

“What’d you want to eat?” He asks once you settle into the room, unpacking the Walmart bags, folding your new clothes neatly into the duffel, using the various pockets for other items picked up.

“Not hungry…” You hum lightly, throwing some pajamas on the bed for post-shower wear.

“Darlin’…” You know this tone, his stern one, a warning.

“Joel…” You whine. “I’m used to eating corn nuts every two days, I gotta warm up to eating more food, but I promise I'll eat more.”

You are quick to hurry to press a kiss to his lips where he stands by the door with arms crossed over his chest, an attempt to shut him up before making your way to the bathroom to turn on the shower, avoiding his disappointment.

“Alright, I’ll be back real soon…” He hollers as you hear the door open and close.

Your shower is one of the best ones you can remember. The water hot and the tub not as grimey as others you have come across, but the fact you can wash your hair and scrub every inch of yourself is refreshing. You wish for Joel to know how grateful you are.

Eventually, you slink into your shorts and tank top made for sleeping, flicking on the television to some Western film, before painting your toenails with some red polish picked up earlier.

Joel returns eventually, scolding you for not locking the door behind him as you blow onto your drying nails, apologizing before seeing that he brought back some greasy takeout.

He kicks off his shoes aggressively, exhaustingly, placing some type of chicken nugget and fries on your bed as you roll your eyes slightly but no better than to challenge him, his hard stern telling you to “just eat”.

You do eat it, dipping fries into ketchup, not wanting to refuse him of anything. Laying on your tummy to eat in silence, watching the film that Joel says is one of his favorites as he finishes his food fast and soon finds himself in the shower after the film ends.

You try to stay awake to wish him goodnight, maybe get a goodnight kiss but sleep is heavy on you as you eventually wake up to pure darkness & the bedside clock glowing at 3:09 a.m.

You can’t see him in the room, but you hear his deep snores as you remove yourself from your bed, realizing he must’ve tucked you in as you tear off the sheets. Soft footsteps lead you over to his bed, lifting the covers to slide in.

You hope it won’t disturb him, you hope he’s comfortable with it as you wrap your arm around him, his back pressed to your chest as you kiss him there, once then twice.

He stirs, a light sleeper you discover, grunting as he turns towards you, feeling his beard scrape against your cheek as you squeak, his warm lips connecting to yours, softly, sweetly. You sigh openly into the kiss as your tongue pushes against his, a groan whispering in his throat as you desire more.

However, he’s quick to turn you over, pressing his chest to your back as your body curves to fit into his body, attempting not to pout at the loss of affection but grateful as you find yourself exhausted.

It isn’t difficult to miss the hardness pressed against your bottom as he holds you tightly to him, it makes you coo as you move closer to one another, his face fitting into the crook of your neck as his breath there gives you butterflies & tickles your skin, your thighs clenching as you rest your hand over his on your stomach.

“Night, Joel.”

“Goodnight, sweet girl.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller fic #if you find a grammatical error... no you didn't #this is also all i got so far for the 2 people interested #thank u i love u

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crabonfire · 3 months ago

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Engineer! cuddling you for the first time and falling asleep afterwards 🗣🗣💯🔥🔥

character: engie

note: I was reminded my a mutual that I have a fucking tumblr blog 😭😭😭 so here's uh yeah engie posting cause I miss him and also...this one goes out to u moot... xoxo...

also it's 4 am and I wanted to make this short but...yk me...I'm a yapper ☺️

also first 4 paragraphs are just a bit of backstory but you can skip that!!!

warnings: this is CORNYYYY super CHEESY so BE WARNED 🥶🥶🥶🥶

and also I'm making the reader the shy one ❤️ not engie ILL MAKE ONE WHERE ENGIE IS SHY OKKKK calm down

♡♡♡

• I had a lot of different scenarios for this but I'm choosing this one cause I feel like it fits ❤️

• It was a hard day for the both of you. Your team had suffered an embarrassing loss, with scout constantly dying to the enemy's sentries and spy getting caught by the pyro again and again. It was especially bad for you, though. You got three whole kills, a devastating drop from your usual 7.

• And Engie? He got tired of getting his sentries sapped over and over. His usually flawless strategy crumbled at the enemy spy who kept on tearing down his defenses. After he made dinner for the team, you saw him dissappear into his workshop, and not coming out at all after that.

• You tried to sleep it off, but one, you were disappointed in your performance today, and two... you wanted to see how Engie was doing.

It was, what, 2 am? 3? But who cares, right? You missed your boyfriend, and you could tell he was still awake when you walked over to his workshop and saw the light pouring out from the door.

There was no sound as you approached the door. Maybe he was asleep? You hesitated, but you opened it quietly, careful not to potentially wake him.

• But he was awake. His back was hunched over, goggles still attached firmly to his eyes. He definitely had creases in his face from how much he wore them. And that signature hardhat of his. He sat staring at- whatever contraption he was working on.

He didn't notice you, walking over and standing behind him, quietly taking a look at what it was he was so focused on. A little remote, you had never seen it before, but you assumed it had something to do with his sentries.

"What'cha working on?"

• He visibly flinched, not expecting to hear your voice. He blinked, shaking his head and turning to look at you.

"Darlin'! Ya scared me."

He chuckled, his voice was low and rasped as if he hadn't spoken or drank in a while. Now all he wore was a t shirt and more comfortable joggers, atleast he bothered to put on something softer before working.

He gave you a small smile, but you could tell from his voice and the creases near his eyes that he was exhausted.

"What're you doin' up so late? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

He commented very ironically, that smile still plastered staying even with the exhaustion written on his face. You stood there for a moment, before crossing your arms and tilting your head, mimicking that smile.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Another chuckle, this one less energetic and strained. He looked over at what he worked on, "I'm workin' on somethin' that I think will really bring us back. Its just...lots of trial and error." He looked back to you, taking off his hardhat and setting it to the side.

"But I think I'll take a break from that. Did ya need somethin' from me?"

You blinked, realizing that, you didn't really have anything to talk about or do with him. After a moment of contemplation, you shrugged and went quiet when you spoke.

"I...no, not really. I just missed you."

• You two hadn't been dating for very long at all, so admitting all this lovey dovey stuff was embarrassing. You couldn't see his expression too well, but the way his lips curled into a big smile made your knees feel weak. It was like his exhaustion faded at your words, as he fully turned back to you and hummed.

"Ya missed me, huh?"

He felt so happy hearing you say that. He couldn't help it, the sudden shyness in your tone made his heart skip a beat. "I missed you too, sugar."

• Your own lips formed a smile when he said that, and that little pet name? He could make any corny nickname into something cute. You two just stared at each other for a little bit, before he broke the silence with a small yawn.

He murmured a quiet "sorry", which made you giggle. Even if it had only been a minute or two, seeing him had already made you feel better about how your day went.

• You approached him as he sat on his chair, he stared quietly, tilting his head with a smile when you stopped and stood closely over him. You hesitated, but quickly blurted it out.

"Can we...yknow.."

You made a gesture with your hand which he couldn't help but smile at.

"Cuddle?"

It sounded so silly and embarrassing to say outloud. But you two were adults, goddammit. And you had to engage in some sort of cheesy romantic thing if this was gonna be a real thing.

He looked even more surprised then when you admitted you missed him, and somehow, his big smile grew even bigger. He nodded, chuckling once more and finding your hesitance charming.

"Of course we can, darlin'. C'mere."

• He wasn't nervous at all. Well- maybe a little. But definitely not more than you.

"How do I-"

You hovered awkwardly over his sitting form, but he only opened his arms up to you, his hand gently guiding your waist as he pulled you closer. He watched your nervous face, feeling his heart beat quicken at the way you seemed so scared to "mess up" or make him uncomfortable.

You sat down onto his lap, your chests close together as you settled your arms against his shoulders. This was the first time you two were this close. Everything else was just- a short hug or a kiss that lasted a little longer than most. You stared through the lenses of his goggles, it was a little silly but, you found the sight to be endearing. He felt the exact same.

His arms slowly wrapped around your body, making sure you were comfortable, too. You spoke up quietly, feeling a bit more nervous when you realized how close your faces were.

"Is...is this okay?" He only nodded.

"Mhm. More than okay."

• You relaxed a little bit more as you looked at his calm expression, and slowly, wrapped your own arms around him too. Feeling braver, you rested your head on his shoulder and sighed. You had been needing this. His body was so warm, so nice, like an oven.

He had been needing this too. He didn't realize how tense he had been until he calmed down from the feeling of your weight on him, his muscles could relax. He had been waiting for this, honestly. He wished it had happened sooner because if he knew how nice it would feel, he would've done it at any chance he got.

Being able to hold you felt therapeutic, felt comfortable and familiar. He leaned against the table as you settled in his lap, his eyes closed as he could hear the sound of your faint breathing. He hoped you couldn't hear the fast beating of his heart, but you secretly hoped he couldn't hear yours.

• "This is nice."

You mumbled quietly. He hummed softly in response. Your voice sounded so nice to him, so quiet, you could lull him to sleep and he wouldn't complain. He could never complain.

Instinctively, he started to rub random circles around your back, your own eyes closing at the soothing feeling.

• You'd break the silence occasionally by talking about random things that he'd be happy to answer. He was supposed to take a small break and go back to work but...you had fallen asleep. Well, how could he work if you were sound asleep on his lap, hm? Guess it would have to wait till tomorrow.

♡♡♡

was that a satisfying ending I can't tell I'm so tired OMG this was lowkey me rambling sorry for shit writing English not first language + I haven't written in so long kmg.

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 11 months ago

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Remember My Heart, How Bright I Used to Shine

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Daryl’s Camp (During Time Jump)

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; Angst; Illness

Summary: You had always thought he was invincible. Then your world came crashing down.

A/N: DO NOT PANIC. It’s a little bit a ride but if you start, hang in there. It’s probably been done before. Probably cliche. Meh. This plot bunny wouldn’t leave me alone and had to be set free. I know it’s rushed and not my best but it’s done now and I feel better.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

You stared, eyes wide and unblinking, as if you could make it go away by sheer force of will alone. At first, you couldn’t even cry but when the tears came, they came with a vengeance, hot and endless over your cheeks and down your neck. It’s not real. It can’t be real.

The day was like any other. You were up and helping around Alexandria. The air always felt different to you now. Like you could physically feel his absence. You had simply learned to breathe it in and mold it into a way to have him near. You had seen him a few times in the last five years, when you could pull away from the needs of the community and trek into the woods, or when he would come around to help out and just visit with everyone. He would give you a smile and you would return it. You never went to him because if you touched him, you’d never let go. Carol usually kept you up to speed via letters from the Kingdom. Knowing he was safe and healthy proved to be enough.

It wasn’t though. Not really. No letter would keep you from crying yourself to sleep with your hand on the empty space next to you. No letter would keep you from staring hopefully each time the gates opened, waiting for him to walk through. No letter would convince you that he was out of your reach and you would have to move on.

You had just finished covering a section of the crops now that cold weather was setting in, dragging your feet after a long day when Michonne jogged over with an envelope. You returned her smile, yours tired and grateful while hers was gentle and understanding. You had both lost the men you loved. Michonne felt guilty that it was Rick keeping Daryl away from you, though you had asserted time after time that she had nothing to be sorry about.

You decided to read the letter in your room, weary to your very bones. Your bed was calling your name but you only sat on the edge. If you laid down, you’d be asleep before you could get the envelope open. Carol’s fancy handwriting was on the outside, beautiful lines and curves that spelled out your name. You opened the envelope with a sniff, ready to cry when she informed you that he was fine and grumpy as ever.

Except that’s not what it said.

You dropped the letter and grabbed your bag, out the door and running to the gate with weapons in hand, not even on your belt.

‘Come to the camp. NOW.’

And that’s how you came to be here now, just inside Daryl’s tent, Carol off to the side, not crying but her face and eyes puffy as if she’d already had her time. Daryl was pale, his shirt off, and leaning back on his hands.

The bite on his ribs was inflamed, taunting you. Laughing at your dreams of happily ever after with that man.

“Daryl.” Your words wobbled, the tears just not stopping.

“C’mere.” You fell into him, muffling your wail against his already too warm skin. He had sat up to hold you tight, rocking you back and forth with his lips pressed into your hair. Whispered reassurance against your ear. “S’gonna be alright.”

“How?” You sat back, wet eyes pleading. “How is it gonna be alright, Daryl?”

He shared a look with Carol and dropped his gaze. “Just wanted to see ya ‘fore—‘fore I take care’a it.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the meaning behind that. “No.” You shook your head adamantly, crawling on your knees to grab his face, a little rougher than you had intended. “You’re gonna fight, you hear me? You’re gonna fight this until the end.”

“Y/N—”

“No!” You barked at Carol with a finger pointed at her. “Call me selfish. Yes, I’m fucking selfish.” Daryl wrapped his hand around the one you held out, leading it to his mouth. He kissed your palm but kept his fingers around yours, lowering them to the small space between you.

“Shouldn’t hafta do it. Neither’a ya.”

“It should always be someone who loves you.” He smiled at you, sad and hopeless. “And I love you, Daryl Dixon. I’m not leaving you and I’m not letting you eat a bullet for my sake.” He opened his mouth to once again object, your arms around his neck, your face buried against his shoulder, gave him pause. “Please. I haven’t been with you in so long. Let me have this. I’ll take care of you. And—I’ll do what has to be done.” Your lip began to quiver. “I won’t let you turn, Daryl. I swear it.”

You couldn’t see the exchange between him and Carol, but after a few tense moments, his hands were on your back, holding you tighter. He sighed. “Okay.”

It was hard to watch. His skin had dulled to nearly gray, deep dark circles around dull blue eyes. He had stopped giving you those reassuring smiles. They just took too much energy.

His skin was burning, a fever raging that you knew no medication could affect. You could only wipe him down with a damp, cool cloth. He would always sigh with relief, whether it was for the reprieve from the heat or just to make you feel better, you’d probably never know.

Sometimes he would just tense and grit his teeth. He never told you what hurt, knowing there was nothing you could do. He simply didn’t want you to feel worse; like you had failed him. You already held that miserable guilt close to your heart.

The cough had come gradually, from small utterances to deep, ragged barks that would not only send specks of blood flying but had him crying out when the force of them jarred his entire body.

It was when everything had quieted that you felt the most terrified. You were just outside the tent, giving Carol some privacy with him. You could see but not hear. She was leaning over him, crying. He was so weak that he couldn’t even lift his arm to wipe her tears. You knew he would if it were possible.

The other woman was nodding, most likely hearing his wishes for certain things. Things like Dog, who laid a few feet away from you, his ears twitching. Daryl had asked for him to let in a while earlier. The canine seemed to understand, moving slowly around his papa before lying close to his head. It pained Daryl to even be touched, Dog whined but never tried to lick him. After a few moments, the animal had trotted out and laid where he was in front of you.

When you turned back to the tent, Carol was coming out. Her distress was written clearly across her expression. She was losing her best friend. Still, she offered you a hand and helped you to your feet. Before you could enter, she flicked her finger over the buckle holding your knife at your thigh.

“You promised him. If you can’t do it, call for me. But don’t wait.” It wasn’t cruel. You nodded and she let go.

You didn’t say anything as you crawled to a spot beside him, almost touching but not quite. There was a moment of just watching him breathe. You could feel the heat of the fever from where you laid. His breaths were shallow rasps. His eyes were closed.

“Daryl?” You nearly whispered.

“M’here.” He still didn’t open his eyes.

“I love you.”

“Don’t let that stop ya from livin’, ya hear me?” He coughed, his face contorting into a pained grimace. “Ya find someone that sees you. Ya don’t settle fer less.”

“There’ll never be anyone else, Daryl.”

A tear slid down his temple. “That’s what ‘m afraid of—”

“I love you.” You repeated. Daryl wasn’t a words kinda guy. Never had been. He said things through actions. It was one of the things you loved about him. Still, just this once, you wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it.

“I love ya too, woman. Pain in my ass.”

You laughed wetly, the sound shifting into sobs when his head lulled to the side. You were going to have to do what you promised soon, allowing him to finally rest. He would be taking your heart with him. You couldn’t even begin to think of how you would survive this.

Seconds turned into minutes of watching his chest rise and fall, shallow and wheezing. Minutes turned into hours. You kept watch diligently, shifting positions around him to get comfortable or keep yourself awake. It had been at least 3 hours, well into the night when Carol peeked inside, her eyes bloodshot, exhaustion radiating from her.

“Is it—done?” She whispered.

You shook your head. “He’s still with us. He even feels a little cooler. Maybe it’s just me. Would you check?” With a sharp breath, she crawled into the tent and clumsily made her way to the archer’s side. Her palm hesitated just above his forehead, a look of trepidation on her face when she looked to you and back. His skin was warm against her palm but not frighteningly hot. She flipped her hand, sure she was mistaken.

“He’s cooler. He—he’s breathing easier. Y/N, I don’t understand.” You crawled over to meet her on the opposite side, feeling his forehead again for yourself. Carol continued as if his temperature would alter in the mere seconds that had passed while you pulled down the blankets covering his torso. The bite was still red, the veins around it a sickly black.

“Carol, he should—he should be gone. Look at this.” Frozen and befuddled, the two of you stared at the wound, wondering if you had finally been pushed over the edge by grief.

Another twenty four hours passed in nervous silence. Carol was forging and hunting while you saw to Daryl’s care. The bite was less inflamed but the black veins remained. His fever had broken during the night, and the rattling in his lungs had lessened to a quiet wheeze.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you whispered, applying a fresh bandage to his ribs, “but I am freaked the fuck out.” You flinched back when Daryl let out a moan, your hand reflexively sitting on the hilt of your knife. He moved, shifting his shoulders and trying to sit up, uncoordinated and robotic. It did not inspire confidence. “Daryl?”

The heel of his hand was pressed into his forehead but dropped to his lap when he heard his name. When he turned toward your voice, your heart sank. His eyes were milky and yellow.

“No.” You whimpered, scrambling back as far as the tent allowed. You drew your knife slowly. You had promised you wouldn’t let him turn. Promised. Your naivety had caused you to slip, and you’d live with the guilt for the rest of your life. “I’m sorry.” You sobbed, moving toward him slowly though he had yet to even attempt to approach you. “I’m so sorry.”

His head tilted curiously. “What for?”

You sucked in a breath while your knife fell from suddenly inept fingers. “Oh my god.” Your jaw hung open, there was just no other way to react. “Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

“Daryl?” You repeated, inching closer with a hand outstretched. His brow creased.

“Ya hit your head or somethin’?”

“I just—you were—you look—”

“Guess if I look as rough as I feel, s’prolly ‘nough’a a reason to be actin’ all weird.” He ran a hand through his hair and coughed, rubbing at his throat. “What happened anyway?”

Your hand finally connected with his stubbled cheek, the skin warm. He watched you in confusion, uttering your name in a questioning tone as you placed two fingers against his neck, finding a pulse easily.

“Daryl—Daryl, you were bit.” You were retracting your hand, the archer looking at you with horror etched in every line of his face when you heard a bow string pulling taut. “Carol, no!” If you had been one second later or couldn’t have reached her at all, the arrow would have hit its mark. Instead, it nicked his ear and arched into a bag of supplies behind him.

“What the fuck, Carol?!” He shouted, gingerly touching his ear and staring at the blood on his fingertips. Yet another indicator of life. His blood was red.

Carol gasped and stumbled backwards, narrowly missing the firepit when her ass hit the ground. “It’s not—Y/N, he’s—”

“Can one’a ya please fill me in here? I was bit?!” You crawled back into the tent and reached for his ribs. He hadn’t noticed the bandage until then, his gaze on the tendrils of black running from beneath. “What—what the fuck?” Petite fingers peeled away the fresh gauze and revealed the jagged bite, the shape being the key indicator of what it truly was since the teeth had dragged a bit when he fought off the walker. “How the fuck m’I still here?”

“That’s not all, Daryl.” You looked around for anything reflective, considering beating the mirror from his bike but you didn’t want to give the guy an aneurysm along with the news he’d just received. “Something metal, something reflective.” You said hastily as you passed Carol, who remained sprawled on the ground. She pointed to one of the cooking pots without taking her eyes off her best friend. A spoon!

Grabbing it up you jogged down to the river to quickly wash it, looking at your own reflection to ensure it was enough. “Here.” You were holding it out before you had even entered the tent. There was a fear in his expression that you couldn’t see in those lifeless eyes, and that unsettled you.

He didn’t say anything when he saw, but stared for a long while. “Need a minute.”

You shook your head. “Daryl, I really don’t want to—”

“Please.” He was still staring at the spoon and didn’t see your nod. You zipped up the tent behind you and sat down beside Carol. Both of you wore dazed expressions.

“He didn’t die.” She whispered.

“He didn’t turn.” You continued. “What does this mean? Carol, do you think he’s—do you think he’s immune?”

It was more than an hour later when you heard a soft call of your name. You and Carol had settled into anxious silence, every scenario running through your mind, good or bad. What if he turned later? What if he was still sick and infectious? What if he needed to eat people to survive?

You dusted off your pants after you stood, crouching to open the zipper and crawl inside with him. Daryl was lying on his side, facing away from you.

“Are you okay?” Gentle fingers grazed up and down his spine, an attempt at comfort that you weren’t sure he’d even want.

“Would you be?” He asked quietly.

“No,” you answered in kind, “no, I suppose not.” He wasn’t crying, he was just still and somehow that was worse. “Hey.” You crawled around his legs to lie down next to him, your face inches from his. His eyes were closed, his brow still drawn. “I don’t know for sure, but I think you may be immune.” His eyes peeled open slowly, squinted in fear of your impending repulsion. All you saw was a beautiful set of ice blue orbs staring back at you. “Your eyes—”

“They freak me out, too.” He whispered with a slight curl of his lip.

“No, they’re normal.” You made a grab for the spoon and held it up for him. He didn’t appear to be relieved. “It’s okay, Daryl. You’re okay.”

“We don’t know jack shit ‘bout what’s goin’ on. Can’t say m’okay when we don’t know.” He was right. You knew he was, but you didn’t know how to proceed. “Maybe I can head out. Find someone that can gimme some answers.”

“No.” You answered immediately, your eyes wide with fear. “Daryl, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?” He stared at you intently, never looking away even when you touched his cheek and he leaned into it. “What if I can help? If I’m immune, maybe we can get a cure or a vaccine.”

“I won’t have someone poking and prodding at you, fucking carving into you for answers. I won’t.” You snapped. You weren’t angry but you were serious. “Someone could hurt you, use you. They could kill you for answers, and I can’t watch that happen.”

“But if—”

“I give in on a lot of things, Daryl. I even stayed behind so you could come out here and handle your grief your own way.” His warm hand rested on your face so he could wipe away the moisture there. “Giving in, letting you always do things your way damn near cost me the most important thing in my life.”

“But—”

“Please, Daryl. If you do nothing else for me, please do this one thing.”

He studied you quietly, mulling over your words for an amount of time that had you building your resolve to continue your argument. “Okay.” You were able to breathe, not even realizing you were holding it.

“Thank you.”

“Some things gonna hafta change ‘til we know more.”

“I know.” You answered with only the slightest hint of regret. Physical intimacy would be out of the question, you knew for certain that’s what he meant. He wouldn’t risk you. However, if it kept him alive and in your arms, you’d make that trade without a second thought. “It’s okay.”

He nodded in agreement. “Ain’t gonna like not bein’ able to touch ya.”

You smiled and moved closer, pressing your forehead to his. “I can think of a few things we can still do.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and laughed at the terrified expression when you pulled away. “We didn’t swap spit, it’s fine.”

“Oh. Right.” One side of his mouth twitched up.

“We really should talk to Carol. I think she may be on the verge of a stroke out there.” You rubbed your cheek against his.

“Long as she leaves her bow outside.”

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milliesfishes · 4 months ago

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hello! i am so obsessed with your writing- thank you for feeding my obsessions.

could you write an imagine where reader catches the same disease that killed billy’s mother and his brother (i think it was typhus or something like that) but she ends up surviving it? or if you’re feeling extra angsty maybe she doesn’t survive it, whatever your feeling. love your work!!

thank you so much anon!! ౨ৎ꣑ৎyou become dangerously ill and billy takes care of you౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Above all things, Billy feared illness.

It was the one thing he couldn't truly protect you from, the one thing he couldn't fight off or intimidate. No gun could still an ache or fever. No connection could ensure you were well for the rest of your days.

When he wakes up one day and you don’t immediately stir with him, Billy grew concerned. Usually, you woke right as he did.

Reaching a hand over, he brushed your cheek, frowning when he felt how hot your skin was. You made a strained little noise, and he sat up quickly.

“Baby? Ya feelin’ alright?” he touched your forehead. Just as warm as your cheek. “Think you’ve got a fever, honey.”

Nodding slightly, you leaned into his touch, his cool hand a soothing thing. When you opened your eyes, Billy could see how weary you were.

Panic surged through his body. Sick…how could you have gotten sick? He watched your health obsessively, waking up in the night to make sure you were still breathing.

And now here you were, feverish and sickly before him, looking pale, not well at all. Immediately he sprung up, going to the kitchen and tearing through the cabinets for medicine, anything.

By some miracle he found something in the back with just a few drops of liquid left. He wasn’t sure if it’d be enough, but he figured something was better than nothing.

He spoon fed the medicine to you, grimacing along with you as you swallowed, knowing the taste must be awful. “I know, baby. I know.”

Getting back into bed, he tried to soothe you into sleep, watching helplessly as your fever made you thrash. He held you tightly. “Oh, honey…honey…”

The day was long, arduous. He nursed you carefully, hoping and praying that you would pull out of it, that your body would fight the sickness coursing through you.

But it didn't. When he got out of bed in the morning and you didn't, he knew there was more to it.

He called the doctor, who grimly diagnosed your situation. With a gut lurch, he realized it was the same illness that killed his brother and mother both. Their fate was set in stone, past and gone. But he'd be damned if he lost you the same way.

You were the pinnacle of his existence, the center of his universe. If you slipped through his fingers too, there was no telling how desolate he would be. There's no way he would ever love again. You were the end all be all, the love of his life if there ever was one.

With a heavy heart, he remained by your side. It was so hard, watching you suffer the way you did, the grips of a fever your constant companion.

Billy obtained more medicine and made sure you consumed it, along with soup he prepared for you daily. He hardly left your side, offering his body as a pillow for you to rest upon. When you were lying on him, you hardly stirred. Every morsel of his attention was on your recovery, which seemed a light far in the distance, sometimes flickering.

The doctor wasn't hopeful. He prescribed medicine and rest, but there wasn't much else to do. After his visits, when you were fast asleep against Billy, your head on his chest, he'd allow himself a tear or two. It was a harrowing realization that you, the dearest love he'd ever known, weren't invincible. Though you were his gravity, you weren't unsusceptible to mortality's.

"You've gotta get better, sweetie," he murmured against your hair one night. "Baby...I need you. Need ya bad. Ain't no point in bein' good withoutcha. Withoutcha there isn't any good."

There was no response. Lately you'd been slipping in and out of consciousness, but mostly out. He hadn't heard more than a few words from you daily.

He stroked your hair, murmuring things into your hair that he hoped could be heard through the veil of your hazy mind. Death. It was an intimate thing. It crept into your waking mind and took until it was all you could think of. The momentum of it was braced by how swiftly it acted.

Now, Billy let himself think of what it would be to lose you. He saw pictures flash before his eyes.

Standing by your grave. Scattering the soil the way his mother always did. You would've liked his mother.

Coming to an empty house every day. Turning to the drink to avoid the loneliness of it.

Turning in the street every time he saw someone your height, or with your hair. Maybe even when he heard someone say your name, but their saying it was directed at someone else.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw it all dance before his eyes. He hadn't let himself fully cry yet, especially when he had you in his arms like this. But it was all crashing over him like a tidal wave, and he felt his resolve crumble.

Bowing his head, Billy buried his face in your hair, a quiet sob escaping him. Tears fell like rain, and he had a sudden fantasy that they would heal you. It turned to dust and scattered with the wind.

He fell asleep that night like that, holding you tight to him as if you'd disappear in the morning.

When he opened his eyes, the sunshine was filtering through the window, and he mumbled to himself for a moment, stretching out his arms and reaching for you.

His hand met empty sheets.

Panic coursed through his body, and he shot out of bed, running a hand through his hair, breathing heavily. Had his worst nightmare come true? Had the angels truly come for you, untangling you from his arms when he'd tried so hard to hold on tight. He shut his eyes and prayed harder than ever, only opening them when he heard a rustling in the kitchen.

Racing out, he nearly hit the wall, holding the side of it to come to a stop. There you were, sitting at the table and watching the window, wearing one of his shirts and sipping a cup of tea as if mere hours ago you hadn't been fighting for your life.

Billy let out a strangled sound, and moved forward, collapsing at your feet and hugging you around your waist, burrowing his face in your lap. Your thighs were bare, cool. No longer stricken with fever.

Your fingers touched the top of his head, and he could practically hear your smile. "Oh, Billy..."

"You're here, you're here, you're here," he said over and over into your tummy. "Baby...oh, my baby. You're here. Didn't lose ya...didn't..."

His rambling trailed off into nothing, and you kissed the top of his head. For a moment, he wondered if his tears really had healed you.

Looking up, he sat up straighter, pulling you gently out of your chair and into his lap, hands searching every part of you, making sure it was real, not some trick of the light or the mind.

You let him, a soft smile on your face. Billy had told you of his past experience with illness, and all he'd lost due to it.

But he didn't lose you. He'd taken fate by the reins and steered it the other direction

When he was done with his examination, he just hugged you tight around your middle, remaining gentle due to the fact that you were still recovering. "My baby. Never lettin' ya go again. Might accidentally drag ya right down t' hell with me."

You giggled, and the sound rejuvenated him. "Billy. That's a long way off. Besides, who's to say I'm not dragging you to heaven?"

That was his girl. Happy and bright and beautiful in every way. He hid his face in your collarbone, unsure if he'd let you get up. "M' sweet girl. You're a wonder, you are. Only you'd take a wanted man to heaven." Billy pressed a kiss to where he was buried against you. "I've had enough heaven for a lifetime from every second with you."

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid fanfic #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy

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jillianrose305 · 11 months ago

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I know its midnight where I am but I had a cute thought: how the obey me cahrecters would react to mc saying "but aren't I too heavy?.."

not including Luke, thriteen,Rapheal,and mestipholis [or whatever his name is]

Tw:suggestive themes[if you squint] ,reader worried about their weight,angst,trauma,and pet names.

You guys are already dating

Lucifer:

It was a normal night he was working and you came into his room looking for some sort of comfort and familiarity so you could finally rest. Lucifer sat at his desk about to start his last pile of paper work for the night. "Good evening MC" he didn't even look up to know it was you.

"Good evening lucifer" you approached his desk and when you did he looked up at you gazing at you with those dark charcoal eyes the glint of red like a dying star in an empty sky.

"did you need something my dear?"

"Couldn't sleep and I missed you" you spoke a yawn creeping out at the end of the sentence. He looked up at you smirking. "I just wanted to be near you I guess I couldn't fully relax without knowing you were still here." He reached up and caressed your face gently.

"You need to rest ,If you want to stay with me you could sit on my lap ill hold you while I finish my work after ill carry you to my bed for some well deserved rest." His small chuckle made it hard to deceiver if he was joking or not but the look on his face was serious and his hand started to slink around your waist.

"But wouldn't i be to heavy?.. and I would want to get in the way I can just wait for you on your bed..." you looked at the floor instead of him.

"Oh my love you could never be to heavy as far as I'm concerned you are as light as a feather to me. You don't have to sit on my lap if you don't want to but I highly recommend sitting down." After a bit of reassurance you sat down on his lap eventually relaxing he held you with one arm doing his work with the other. He will find out what or who made you think like this he wants you to have pride in yourself and who you are.

Mammon:

currently it was a day where Mammon was feeling very clingy he just wanted to be near you he didn't mind laying on you but he just wanted to hold you for a change holding you in his arms while you laid on him was all he wanted right now. "Hey Treasure i have a once in a life time opportunity for ya specially from the great mammon!"

"Oh and what would that be?" You asked . Currently you were finishing making a upgraded version of instant ramen for your boyfreind and you for movie night. You placed the bowl down on the coffee table infornt of his TV. Staring down at the handsome demon who laid on the couch.

"You can lay on my chest and I'll hold ya' for a change but I'm probably not gonna let ya' go for a while." He grinned proudly but you just stared trying to see if this was a joke. "Treasure whats wrong? Are you just too stunned by my amazing offer?" He tugged on the hem of your shirt.

"Wouldn't i be to heavy?.." you looked gloomy at your boyfreind.

"Eh?! Are you dumb or something what would go through your brain to think that? Just lay down I've missed your soft Skin" you seemed confused but laid on top of your boyfreind your head resting on his chest. His arms soon wrapped around you as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "My precious treasure is all mine.~" the night was filled with comforting moments. Though he isn't the best at showing it your boyfreind truly cared about you.

Leviathan:

levi currently wasn't very happy. You had barely hung out with him all day and then when your here now you won't sit with him. It was true yall had spooned before or he rested on you ,you wouldn't sit with him in his chair. He just wanted his player 2 right next to him after not seeing you all day. He's currently using his tail to try and pull you onto his lap only for you to stop him. "Huh? Why won't you sit with me?." Levi pouted obviously about to start rambling about him being a disgusting Otaku.

"Levi its not that it's just..aren't I too heavy?" In that moment Leviathan started laughing he seemed to think it was a joke in one swift motion his tail wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap.

"Honey I'm the general of the navy and a demon no matter what you'll never be to heavy trust me" he spoke confidently but becoming flustured once he looked into your eyes. "Just..shut up normie I love you.."

Satan:

Satan was chilling in his room reading his 3rd book of the day when you came to check up on him. As you knocked on his door you heard his voice from the inside "who is it?"

"Its MC" you called from the outside of his door. You heard a bit of shuffling from inside before the blonde opened the door.

"Good evening MC its lovely to see you" you gave him a gentle smile and he closed the door behind you.

"You've been in here the past 2 days I started to miss you" you wrapped your hands around his waist and hugged him.

"I'm sorry dear I hadn't realized so much time had passed" soon before you could object you were being held bridal style as he placed a kiss to your forehead. You tensed up.

"Aren't i too heavy?.." you looked up at him worriedly.

"Huh? Who would make you think such stupid things my dear?" He carried you to his bed laying your head on his chest. After a while of reassurance you relaxed. If you told him someone made you feel this way he would make sure they would be gone and not peacefully.

Asmodeus:

Currently you and Asmo were doing eachothers makeup he had already done yours but now it was your turn. No matter where you stood you couldn't find the right angle to do his mascara and eye shadow . "Are you ok bueatiful you seem to be struggling" he pulled you closer by the hem of your shirt causing you to stumble onto his lap and when you tried to get up he held you there by holding your hips.

"Asmo let me get up im to heavy to do this." Asmo traced small circles on your hips not letting you up.

"None sense now isn't this a easier angle to get my eyeliner done?~♡" the bueatiful demon gave a cheeky smile as you noded.

Beelzebub:

Currently you hadn't talked to beelzebub all day instead you were spending the day with solomon. Solomon stopped talking and looked behind you having a small smirk. "Hello Beelzebub I was just hanging out with my apprentice is there something you needed?" Solomons smirk was not welcomed by the hungry demon nor did he respond he simply picked you up and through you over his shoulder.

"Beel aren't I too heavy for this?" Beel quickly swallowed whatever he was eating.

"Not at all" after around 10 minutes you were in his room laying on his chest as he held onto you tightly. You knew you wouldn't be leaving for a while or atleast until beel ran out of the bag of food he had. Thinking back on it was a silly question to ask him.

Belphagor:

This was new. Belphie had woken up and you weren't there when he went looking for you he was informed you had to attend a freinds birthday party. He had forgotten and now he was alone. Well aside from Beel. He pouted all day what human thought they had the right to take you away from him he would make sure they would be able to sleep for a while. You didn't return till 2 days later and he hadn't slept a wink. He couldn't without you. As soon as you walked in he was in his demon form and carried you up to the attic holding you protectively close to him. "Your never leaving again without telling me ok?"

"Belphie let me go im too heavy for you" you struggled in his grasp only for him to tighten his grasp his hand slipping around your neck not in a 'im gonna kill you' way but in a 'shut up and let me be so close im almost under your skin' way. You knew you wouldn't be leaving his side for atleast a month. When the rest sall you again belphie was clinging to you your neck and shoulder covered in bites. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn't he would simply use his magic to lure you back with his voice no matter how much you protested.

Lord Diavolo:

It was after a student council when he asked you to stay after dismissing anyone who tried to stay back with you. All he wanted was to dance with you as he hadn't gotten the chance at his last ball. It was going smoothly even if your a bad dancer diavolo had made sure to teach you. At one point Diavolo went to pick you up. "Wait! Aren't I to heavy for you to pick me up" he chuckled in response.

"Never my dear" he held you bridal style and spun with you in his arms before slowly letting you down giving you a gentle kiss on your lips. Needless to say you spent the night at the castle in his arms.

Barbatos:

You were currently in your room at the house of lamentation while diavolo had a meeting with lucifer when ypu heard a knock on your door. "Come in!" You called out.

"Hello my love" as he walked in you could sense something was off.

"Are you ok dear?" He took a step forward hoisting you up into his arms.

"I sall you've been thinking negatively about yourself" as soon as he spoke you knew you were about to be met with loving words but also a lecture so you just didn't say anything. Barbatis requested the night off so he could stay with you and Diavolo more then happily agreed.

Solomon:

[I don't really talk to solomon much hes not my favriote so im sorry if its not good]

You were teaching your boyfreind how to cook currently as he asked in turn for him teaching you magic. "And then you add- Hey put me down ! Aren't I too heavy?" You complained as your boyfreind littered you with kisses.

"Nonesense" he insited on holding you for the rest of the cooking lesson. And you couldn't object though you would get flustured at every flirtatious mark he made towards you.

#obey me #obeymeswd #obey me scenarios #obey me x reader

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elvisslut · 1 year ago

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Tearing me down..

||tw- Suicidal thoughts, attempt at suicide, smut, cheating, depression, in depth details of feelings,hospital,in detail hospital visit||

You knew Elvis was cheating but hearing him and seeing him with someone else was a different kind of pain though. You loved him too much to leave after that so the cheating became more frequent each time you let it slide. Well..you still thought about it but you let it slide pass elvis.

Loving him became a sickness and it was dragging you to your grave. A grave you didn't want people to find out about. Him cheating on you is not only demeaning but it's embarrassing. It hurts to love him an not receive the same love back. He hurts, Elvis Presley for you.. Is the definition of hurt and Belittlment.

But he is also the love of your life. A man you can't live without. "Y/n? You okay? You look really sick" Joe says as he walks in the kitchen, you pouring you probably 7th cup of coffee. Since you caught Elvis and continued to catch Elvis you really couldn't sleep, you had constant fights with him, he hardly kisses you anymore let alone makes love to you.

You used to have such a good relationship, now it's just lies and cries. "Yeah.. Just tired" you give Joe a light smile and walk out the kitchen to the dining room table talking aseatamd watching out the window at the fans aching for Elvis. Elvis isn't even your husband.. You're not obligated to stay. But love works in ways no one will ever understand.

Joe was worried, beyond worried. He loved you like a sister and hated seeing you the state you're in. Elvis got more sleep then you and that in itself is a big thing that's strongly noticeable. Elvis averaged three hours you were lucky if you got a hour.

"Hey doll.. Ya okay?" Elvis said looking over at you with a grown after having come down stairs. "Yeah.. I'm okay" you say getting up and downing the rest of thehot coffee in your cup, going over and pressing a kiss to his cheek, handing him the cup since he was going to the kitchen then Going to the living room.

"E. P. Hey.. Come here" Joe says waving Elvis over to him. "Y/n looks real sick.. Maybe you should take her to the doctor.. " Joe suggests. Elvis chuckles and shakes his head." naw naw she's just tired.. I don' got the time to take 'er and I've got a few girls coming over today.. So I can't be gone" that's it. Joe figured it out. Elvis knew you'd stop caring so much for the girls.

He knew and he was waiting for it. He loved you but the thought of fooling around with you wasn’t much of a turn on for him. You loved elvis so much that no buts ifs ands or wills will ever stop you from loving him with your entirety.

“E..you’re hurting her with all the girls.” Joe says bluntly. “She doesn’ mind. She would have left me after i got caught with Olivia” he smiles at joe earning a frown. “You screwed Olivia? Is that why they ain’t friends no more?” Joe asks, Olivia was your best friend. For years. Then you found her under Elvis and thats when your world started to shatter.

“Im going for a drive ill see you boys later” you say stepping in the kitchen oblivious to the previous conversation. “ill come with” Elvis says looking back at you planing to talk to you about what joe said.

“I um..i don’t think thats a good idea..you just..you stay here” you say giving him a smile and turning around going outside. Joe had a horrible feeling in his gut. He didn’t like that you were going alone but he understood that you probably needed a break from Elvis.

Killing yourself was frowned apon.. But you'd be dead. Why was it so frowned on. It's such a easy escape.. From everything. It's such a easy way yo get away from Elvis.. From the love you have for . You parked the car at the end of the Memphis Bridge and walked the sidewalk amongst others, stopping in the middle and looking down at the water tears in your eyes. It was your last straw a while ago, but it all became too much.. Too overwhelming recently. You weren't going to jump..heights sacred you but you snagged up some pills from Elvis and took them.

"E, y/n's been gone a awful long time" Joe says that's same feeling in his gut getting worse. Elvis sighed and looked at the girls in front of him putting his guitar down. "Wait here girls I gotta go find someone" he says as if it were a harsh task.

They drove around for a while spotting your car then multiple police cars and several people not spotting you. Elvis and joe rushed out of the car, pushing through all the people as time seemed to slow for Elvis. The moment they seen you on the concrete with a officer giving you chest compressions Elvis broke down. Immediately going to his knees besides you.

The officer does a few more compressions and slowly you come back to see Elvis Joe and many others towering over you. Elvis puts his arms around you and squeezes for dear life. He almost lost you. Legitimately lost you. If a officer wasn't here he'd be burying you by next week.

"Oh god, oh god.." he sways with you back and forth sobbing holding you as close as humanely possible. "My baby.. My satnin, 'm so sorry please please don' leave me here. Please mama." his cries seemed to fade out. "Its okay my precious boy.." you say quitly as your conciseness slips from your fingers.

Everything for Elvis was dark once you fell unconscious in his arms that day. You'd been in a coma for a week. Elvis has not once left your side. He felt guilty and hurt that you'd do that but he mostly just felt a feel that had no word. Maybe sad love? Longing? There's no telling.

He knew his was at fault, he knew it too well. He felt regret for every girl he's been with that wasn't you. He couldn't get out of that room but he couldnt look at you. You had so many wires and tubes hooked up to you just to keep you alive.

He bit down on his lip as the last person visiting you left, he cried silently in the chair sat by your bed and the window. He scooted the chair to your side and grabbed your hand feeling the warmth of your skin. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed softly against your knuckles then laying your hand against his cheek, crying harder as he did.

Not knowing if this was the end of you or not. "Pull through this for me baby..ya gotta come back to your precious boy..please come back to me mama" he chokes on a sob and lays his head against your belly.

All the veins in his body pulsed for you. He didn’t realize it till the this week. You may have not noticed but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you whenever you were around him. He didn’t want to touch you in a sexual way not because you didn’t turn him on but because he thought you were too good too important to be touched like that by him.

“You’re my girl..you’re my girl, my girls gotta come back” he cried hearing tge door open to show a nurse the most dreadful part coming in a matter of seconds.

They were able to see if you could make it in your own without the life support. One by one the tubes and wires came off. Coming down to the last one that was helping you breathe. Once it was pulled out his heart stopped. A few seconds and you breathe in heavily for air, the nurses spoke to elvis for a second then left leaving him alone with you again.

Elvis let out a breath of air and rushed to your side again pressing his lips against your forehead. "That my good girl..thank ya.." he said softly tears streaming down his cheeks.

A few days went by and Elvis continued to watch you like a hawk. "Elvis?" you grumble with a cough your throat tremendously dry. Elvis bolt's to his feet and goes to you seeing if you were really awake tears flooding his eyes. You cough again snapping him from his state and rushing to get you water.

"Here baby drink.." he says lifting the cup to your lips and tilting it letting you drink the water slowly. You looked up at his eyes, his pretty gorgeous blue eyes and fell in love all over again.

"'M gonna go get someone.." he says rushing off.

The next few days went by fast Elvis did nothing but kiss you and apologize and pamper you. Then you went home. Definitely a place you wanted to go but.. It hurt to be back though. All the extra pain and hurt. But Elvis was back to being in love with you and it all washed that away.

He smiled at you as you got his help laying in the bed. Your bed.. Your shared bed. It felt so good.. So good to be back in this bed. Your boyfriend laying down right along side you.

He searched your eyes and slowly moved forward pressing his lips to yours and moving his hands up your shirt.

His fingers felt each inch of your skin as he pulled your shirt up and off of you, then working down at your pants tugging them off. "I missed this side of you precious boy.." you say softly reaching up and undoing his shirt, looking back into them pretty blues..

"I missed this side'a me too mama" he softly says leaning down getting another kiss from your lips. He pushes his pants down just enough to pull himself out and gets on top of you lining himself up and pushing in.

Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part as you let out a pretty moan just for him. Just for your precious boy to hear. He moves his hips at a steady pace wrapping his arm around your back and holding you close.

Tears started to fall down his cheeks, you lean up and kiss them away then wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I love ya..fuck mama..fuck i love ya” he grunts, the noises like music to your ears.

“I-..love you too baby boy” you moan out softly, elvis slows down and gives a few harsh thrusts before you’re both coming on done.

"Ya make everythin' so worth while.. Please never ever scare me like that again" he says tears continuing to stream down his face.

"I promise"

Tag❤️‍🔥: @elvisalltheway101

#austin butler elvis #elvis music #elvis presley #elvis the king #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis photos #elvis smut #elvis songs #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader

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dp-marvel94 · 1 year ago

Text

Seafoam Sky -Chapter 1

Summary: Danny has dreamed of glowing lights for as long as he can remember. When he almost dies pursuing them, an unknown powerful entity saves him. Now the entity is calling him too, though Danny can’t tell if it’s for good or for ill. He hopes the memories and dreams of being lovingly cradled under the stars are real. But with his parents’ stories about wind spirits that lure mer to the surface and steal their souls… how can he trust his mysterious savior?

Word Count: 4,210

Next Chapter

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note:

It's finally here! Happy Ecto-Implosion! A huge thanks to my artist, @ecto-stone whose art inspired this fic. Thank you for being cool with all my crazy ideas and always excited to read my ramblings. Check out the art work here! And thanks to my beta, KindStar This story would make a whole heck of a lot less sense if it wasn't for your help. Thank you for all the constructive comments and all the encouragement. :) And thanks to everyone reading! I hope you enjoy!

The young mer floated in the darkness. Lights sparkled above and below. All around him. He reached, wide eyes awed. If he could just touch-

“Danny! Wake up!” His mom’s voice roughly pulled him out of the dream.

Startled by the shout, Danny twisted out of his sleep hammock. “Ah! Wha- Umph!” His light-blue flank spasmed, knocking nick-nacks off his shelf and down onto him.

Nose wrinkled, he rubbed his sore side. Where was-

Oh right. His eyes flitted over the room. Rough stone walls, wovened sleep hammock, scatters bits of shell and seaweed. This was his room; he’d gone up for a nap. And..

That dream. He had that dream again. Every few months, since he was a fry, he dreamed of the sparkling lights. Suspended among them, so far, yet close enough to touch. Something in him reached, pulled towards the-

A pounding below interrupted his thoughts. “Danny!” His mom’s annoyed shout. “The door!”

“I’m coming!” The mer-boy finally shouted back, shaking the last fog of sleep away.

This time, Danny anticipated the knock.

“Get the door!” His dad complained. “Your friends are here!”

His friends! Danny’s eyes lit up. “Coming!”

He raced down the corridor and into the livingroom, eyes taking in the scene. His mom and dad tinkered with some gadget again, googles fixed over their eyes.

“I’m going out with Sam and Tuck.” The mer-boy said. “I’ll be back later.”

The adults waved him off casually, not even looking up. A stab of disappointment struck his heart. As always, they had eyes only for their work…

Danny shook his head, dismissing the feeling. He opened the door, “Hey guys.” And swam through.

“Tell us if ya see any wind spirits!” His dad yelled, as the door closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, where are we going?” Danny’s friend, a purple-tailed mer-girl named Sam asked.

“To the trench.” The boy grinned, eyes sparkling. “You guys have to see it!” Swimming fast, he pulled his friends along beside him. “If you look out over, just after the Dimming, when it gets dark, there’s all these tiny blinking lights. Like thousands of them!”

“The trench?” Tucker, a yellow-tailed mer-boy with his customary hat of woven, red seaweed, squeaked. “You mean the one where if you swim too deep the weight of the water on top of you alone will kill you?” He raised a brow. “Haven’t there been, like, rabid shark sightings near there?”

“Those are just rumors, Tuck.” Danny shook his head. “And it’s not like we’re going to swim down in the trench. We’ll just watch from the top.” He dipped down, swimming through a gap between two rocks.

The three swam for several minutes more, the blue-tailed mer eventually pulling to a stop just at the edge of the ravine. “See!” He waved excitedly. “I mean, there are no lights yet but give it a few minutes.”

The mer-boy drifted down, settling on the cluster of boulders above the trench. His friends swam over, sharing fondly amused grins at his excitement. Sam took a seat to one of his sides, her dark hair swirling around her head.

“So they’re like the lights in the above world from the stories. The floating ones, up really high?” She asked.

“Stars.” Danny nodded, awe entering his voice. “They’re called stars.”

Tucker joined the group on Danny’s other side. He blinked, disbelieving. “How'd you know that?”

The blue-flaked mer’s eyes drifted to the open water in front of them, gaze far away. His mind drifted…..

A busy market square. A tiny mer crying for his mother. A cloaked man, a scar over one red eye.

“It will be alright, little one.” A soothing, melodic Voice came from the merman.

Wide eyes traced the painted lines and dots on the stranger’s blue skin. “What’s that?”

“It is a map of the stars.” The stranger smiled kindly.

“Stars?”

Blue fingers followed the silver and gold marks. “The floating lights in the world above. In the world of air and light.” They seemed to shimmer, almost glowing. “They are called stars, child.”

Danny blinked, drawing himself out of the memory. “Someone told me once, when I was little.”

“My grandma told me she went up there, when she was our age.” Sam leaned forward, purple-eyes sparkling conspiratorially.

“How didn’t she die?” Tucker gaped. “You dry up and suffocate if you go to the surface! That's what my mom always says.”

The purple-eyes mer waved him off. “You only really start drying out after twenty minutes, and it takes at least an hour to suffocate.”

“Only an hour?” The yellow-tailed mer scoffed sarcastically. “That’s plenty of time.”

“Exactly.” The purple-tail raised an eyebrow pointedly.

This earned another scoff from Tucker and the two started squibbling.

“Bub says the far lights are giant balls of gas, burning billions of miles away.” Sam argued.

“That’s ridiculous.” Tucker countered. “They’re obviously glowing plankton in the ocean above.”

“What?” The mer-girl’s mouth dropped open, eyes narrowed skeptically.

The yellow-tailed mer motioned, one hand palm down and parallel to his chest. “There’s this ocean, the water below.”The other hand stacked on top of the first. “The air.” The stack grew, his left hand added above the ‘air’ layer. “And then the other ocean, the water above.” It was as if the parts of the world were rock strata in a cliff-face, one piled atop the other. “Except it’s upside-down so we’re looking at the plankton floating near the surface.”

“You clearly just made that up, Tucker. Everyone knows that….”

The two argued lightly and Danny smiled, just enjoying the banter. It wouldn’t be a hangout section with his friends unless Sam and Tucker gave each other a hard time. And really, they were great for letting him drag them out here. It was quite a swim, and one his parents would not be happy about him making, but it would be well worth it when the lights came out. It wasn’t the stars but it was as close as he could hope to get. And-

“Danny! Look out!” Sam shouted.

The boy jerked up, but not in time. Something gray and rough slammed into him. Sharp teeth flashed in his vision.

“Rabid shark!” Tucker cried.

Heart pounding, Danny flailed. Jaws snapped, eerily close to his tail. Frantically, the mer jabbed. “Take that!” His finger met the creature’s eye. “Gross!”

The shark jerked away, bits of gore drifting out its wound. But… madness linger in its remaining eye. The creature rushed back.

“Sam! Tuck!” Danny screamed, floating over the ravine.

He sprinted away, diving down. Frantic words, shouts sounded. The mer boy couldn’t process. Just flashes of his friends' panicked faces high above, where he had left them. Above?.... He hadn’t meant to swim this far down, below the cliff face.

“Guys! Help me!” He yelled, eyeing the shark still focused on its prey.

Above him, the groaning reverb of rocks shifted. The creature lashed out, inches from his caudal fin. Danny dodged but-

“Ah!” Too slow. Teeth sunk into flesh.

“Now!” Sam shouted.

Immediately came a heavy boom. Danny turned to look, eyes widening. Oh no. A torrent of rocks fell. One slammed into his attacker, releasing him from its hold.

“Danny!” “No!” Sam and Tucker reached towards him. But-

A wordless scream, as the boulder impacted. His bloody flank spasmed uselessly and he spun, head over tail.

The worlds spun, light above and dark below flashing. His friends’ screams…. He couldn’t understand. His breath heaved, heart pounding in his ears.

Deeper and deeper. Darker and darker. Danny spun, mind in chaos. Then-

Glowing lights sparked into existence.

Eyes widened, his heart slowed. The lights all around him… they were so beautiful.

A tiny fish, lines of glowing green flickering on its side, darted towards him and nibbled at his fingers. Danny flicked it off with a feeble chuckle.. And… his breath choked.

His tail throbbed. Weakly, he tried to flex it, tried to kick but… the limb screamed, pain radiating down. He gasped. It must be broken. He couldn’t swim.

The realization should have caused panic, especially with the blood leaking from the wound, drifting up, just visible in the blinking light. But-

The blinking light…. Two pale white jellyfish undulated past, tentacles as long as he was tall drifting behind. An octopus, orange and pink small enough to fit in his hand, darted around; glowing spots dotted its skin. Masses of green plankton gently floated.

Danny sank deeper, his mind growing fuzzy and indistinct. The water pressed down on him, heavier and heavier. His tail ached, sensation dimming as his gills fluttered, straining to take in water.

A colossal fish, long and eel-like with glowing blue dots lining its sides; a glowing spot hovered above its eyes. Miniscule jellyfish flashed different colors.

Danny’s vision faded, growing black around the edges.

A clear oval luminesced, edges red. Fanning, branching, fluttering clumps, like the coral that rooted on the rocks near home, and yet it drifted in the open water. Lines of tiny blue squares, stretching as far as the eye could see. So many creatures floated around, beings he never could dream of.

Floating on his back, surrounded by the ethereal glow, Danny reached up, towards the surface, towards his friends.

Light shone above him, coalescing. White-blue. Golden yellow. Fanning, branching, spread-wide. Expansive but near.

Something soft and light gently brushed his face. The boy reached back, the luminescence a hair’s breadth from his finger.

Just like his dream.

A whisper into his mind. Almost a Voice. It was like a song, chiming and sweeping. Light and ringing. Immaterial, ethereal. Like nothing he’d ever heard before.

Danny’s heart pumped, slow and heavy. His gills struggled. One more breath.

His watery mind barely grasped for understanding but… slipped.

He was dying.

The Voice’s words whispered soft, tender, kind. It was… a desire to save, to rescue. A plea to accept the offer. It just required a small sacrifice, something surrendered….

The mer-boy’s throat barely twitched. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Eyes fluttered, closing. One last moment. One last glimpse.

Against the pale blue, glowing white lines and dots made a familiar pattern. But he couldn’t quite remem…

Heart stopping, Danny exhaled.

I want to live.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny gasped, twitching eyes darting around, unseeing.

His mind raced. What? How? He wasn’t dead-

“Danny! You’re awake!” His mom’s voice, quivering.

The boy flinched at the sound. Too loud, too close. His head hurt.

“Son!” Large arms swept him up. “It’s alright. You’re alright. The wind spirits didn’t get ya!”

The mer squeaked, body pressed on every side. For a moment he was back in the ravine. The water crushed him. He couldn’t breathe.

Gasping again, Danny jerked out of the hold. He fell back, onto something soft and springy. He blinked, eyes struggling to focus. And…

His parents' faces, hovering just over him and frantic, snapped into view. His parents? But-

The memories hit. The glowing lights. The ravine. The shark. His friends…. His friends?!

“Sam and Tucker!” The mer-boy shouted. “Where are Sam and Tucker? Are they okay?”

“Are they okay?!” His mom’s eyes snapped wide, almost bulging. “You almost died, Danny. You could have died! You’re not allowed to go to the ravine anymore. If your friends hadn’t found you…” Her voice broke, sobbing.

The woman threw her arms around him and his dad joined, burying the boy in his parents’ arms. This time, Danny didn’t resist. He accepted the hug, though didn’t return it. For just a moment, a bitter hurt flashed through him. Oh, of course, they were worried now. After brushing him off this afternoon like always.

He huffed, eyes drifting over the…floor? He had been laying on the floor. A pile of woven seaweed blankets and pillows, stuffed with sea sponges, sat below him. Eyes flitted a few feet. His mom’s shell-decorated seat. Fish-bones needles, for one of Dad’s projects. This was his house. But…

Frantic words and questions bombarded him. But Danny ignored them, mind swimming.

How did he get here? Why wasn’t he dead? Where were his friends?!

A sudden knock came from his left.

“Is Danny awake-” Sam’s voice. “Danny?!”

His parents let go and a blink later, his friends were hugging him. This time, he returned the hug.

His heart fluttered, trembling. Finally, his own sob came. “You… you guys are okay.”

“Of course we’re okay. You… you dork.” Sam squeezed him harder.

“Don’t scare us like that!” Tucker cried into his shoulder. “We thought you were dead!”

His parents’ both rose from the floor, whipping their faces. An awkward pause, the adults’ eyes on his back while he broke down.

“You must be hungry.” His mom finally said. “Jack, come help me.”

The pair left, blessedly leaving the trio in peace. And Danny hugged his best friends, crying with them for a long while. Then…

A confused question broke through the supreme relief. “Guys! What happened!?” Danny pulled away. “That shark attacked us! It freaking bit me. I got knocked into the ravine.”

“We saw you fall. You disappeared!” Tucker waved his arms. “We were calling your name but we couldn’t see you. Sam was about to go after you but...” He bit his lip, trailing off.

“Yeah.” Danny didn’t quite register the hesitation, sitting up more fully. “I tried to swim back but couldn’t. I broke something in my… tail.”

The blue-tailed mer’s eyes drifted to his flank, widening. With a thought, the tip flicked, as natural and easy as ever. “Guys… my tail isn’t broken. But… I know… I know it was. I couldn’t even move it without screaming. This is crazy...”

He stared, flexing his dorsal fin. Moving it side to side, up and down, mesmerized by the movement.

“That’s not the only crazy thing…” The yellow-tailed mer hesitated..

Danny looked up at the words, wide eyes flitting between his two friends. “What?”

The two traded hesitant looks. Finally Sam started. “Something… really weird happened after you went over the ravine. I was just about to go after you, when these lights showed up. At first we thought it was the glowing lights you’d brought us there to see. But then they were getting closer and closer. And brighter and brighter and… there was this sound.” Her eyes widened, far away. “It started small. But it kept getting louder and suddenly it was everywhere like.. Like it was inside my head….”

Beside her, Tucker shivered. “I heard it too. Nothing… I’ve never heard anything make a sound like that before. Never. But… it was like this singing but… high and far away but somehow also really close and…”

The hair on Danny’s arms rose, something distant but so near tickling at his mind. The darkwater, bright light, a musical Voice.

“The light kept getting brighter, like it was gonna burn my eyes. It should… should have hurt but… it didn’t. I couldn’t look away.” Tucker breathed, almost dreamily. “It was so beautiful.”

Danny’s stomach dropped, a strangely calm dread. He waved a hand in front of his friend’s face. “What happened next?”

The other boy shook his head, snapping out of it. “There was this flash and you were back. You were just laying there, at the edge of the cliff. But… but.” Tucker’s voice trembled. “There was seafoam everywhere. All over you.”

“Sea… sea foam?” The dread rose, wrapping around Danny’s throat. “Seafoam? Like…”

Numbly, Sam nodded. “Your tail… it looked half gone. And your hands…” She shook. “You were dead. We were sure you were dead and.. And…”

Danny’s mouth was somehow dry. “Turning into seafoam.” He’d been dying. Sinking into the depths, the glowing creatures drifting around him… He’d been dying. He had felt it and… “I… I was turning into seafoam.” Like any other mer, returning to the foam all their kind had come from.

But… but that was impossible, Because… “I’m.. I’m not dead, though?” He asked, anxious, hopeful, desperate.

Sam nodded, eyes glazed, almost haunted. “Your eyes popped open and… they were glowing. Solid white.”

“Your whole body started glowing too. Like light was coming through your skin.” Tucker added, nervously chewing at a fingernail.

Danny stared at his own hand. This was.. This was all impossible. But… the image flashed in his head…. his veins, pulsing with light from within. Why… why did it feel so right?

“It kept getting brighter and brighter until we couldn’t see you at all.” His red-capped friend continued. “Then there was this whooshing noise, like a million manta rays flapping by, and you were normal again.”

“But there were all these white things around you. They looked like that red-coral at the reef, the branching wavy ones. But not hard at all. They were soft and smooth.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “They disappeared though. They were all gone by the time I came back with your parents….”

The purple-tailed mer trailed off, a heaviness falling over the room.

Tucker wrapped his arms around himself. “It was freaky, man.”

Part of Danny wanted to laugh- talk about an understatement. But… in his chest, his heart pounded fearfully. He’d almost died, he remembered that. But what had happened to him after?

And yet… again, it scratched at his mind. Light coalescing above him. Immense, reaching softness. A ringing, tender almost-Voice. His heart skipped a beat.

Something had saved him.

Before Danny could open his mouth to tell his friends, his parents burst in.

“Here you go!” His dad shoved a plate into his hands. “Manatee cheese and mussels. Your favorite!”

Again, a hint of bitterness rose. Apparently he just had to almost die for his parents to pay attention to him. Danny shook the thought away; it was his favorite meal…

His mom joined. “Sam, Tucker. Here’s some for you too.” She handed plates over and the five sat in a circle on the floor.

The blue-tailed mer ate the food, though he didn’t enjoy it. Not with his stomach churning as it was with the adults hovering over him.

“You’re lucky to be alive, Danny.” His mom’s sad serious eyes fixed on him. “You know you can’t go to the ravine like that. It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah!” His dad stabbed his seaweed salad violently. “Those windy spirits haunt those cliffs. They lure you with their weird songs and spooky ghost lights.” His voice lowered, slow and ominous. “You get closer and closer. You can’t look away and…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Tucker’s widened, fearful.

“They blind you!” His dad shouted, fingers jerking like a flashing ball of light. “Then they drag you to the surface and suck out your soul!”

Both Danny’s friends gasped, faces pale. They traded knowing looks, side-eyeing him.

“Don’t scare the kids, Jack!” Mom reprimanded. “No spirit is going to touch my baby.”

“Sorry, Mads.” The other adult rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Meanwhile, one of Sam’s eyebrows rose, a pointed though subdued question.

Subtly, the boy shook his head. And though both friends frowned, neither said anything

“You’re fine, Danny.” Luckily, his mom mis-read the exchange. “What happened was scary but it’s over.“ The woman placed a hand on his arm, an attempt at comfort. “You’re safe.”

The boy smiled, though the warmth of it didn’t meet his eyes. “I know. Thanks Mom.”

The group finished eating soon enough and the adults rushed Danny’s friends out. The trio shared a hug, again questioning looks pinned on the blue-tail. And again, Danny refused. As weird and worrying as what happened to him was, that was not a jar of slugs he was willing to open in front of his parents.

“We’ll talk later.” The mer-boy instead whispered into Sam’s shoulder.

With subtle, understanding nods and parting waving, both teens left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny quickly excused himself to his room. As soon as he crossed the threshold, door closed, he let out a groan.

“Why?” He rubbed his eyes.

So much had happened, he couldn’t even begin to process. And of course, his dad had to bring up wind spirits again. It was ridiculous. Everyone knew spirits weren’t real. But…

The sweeping song danced in his head. The feeling of light on his skin, not searing or burning, but… warm and safe.

Danny twitched suddenly. His back itched, something brushing his skin. He reached under his shirt, reaching for the spot. His fingers brushed the thing, soft like hair but… not. He gripped; whatever it was, the end was hard but light, tapering into a long, thin point. It came away without resistance. He brought it in front of his face.

The boy gasped, eyes wide and mesmerized. The white object glowed, warm in his hand and pulsing with light. It tingled, the warmth spreading down into his palm. Something sparked in his veins. A flicker, a glow. Blue-white light shimmered through his skin.

With a choked cry, Danny dropped the feather as if he’d been burned. The light disappeared as soon as it left his hand, his own veins going dark. The object fell softly to the floor.

For a long moment, the boy held his breath, just staring. He swam back, slowly leaning closer, eyes fixed. Nothing. No spark, no hit of light. Tentatively, he poked the object. No reaction came.

“That’s dumb.” Danny complained, frowning at it. “ ‘s just a feather.”

The word passed his lips and the realization hit him like those falling rocks. It was called a feather. Usually part of a wing and used for flight. This thing that had somehow been in his shirt, that his friends must have seen around him when he… appeared back at the top of the ravine. It was a feather and…

His heart pounded, breath choked. He hadn’t known what this was this morning. He’d never seen a feather, nor a wing, nor flight. No one told him what they were. But… those words were there, in his head, as easy as any other. As familiar as his scales, his tail, the idea of swimming.

This was a feather. And not just any feather. It was his own.

Panicked, Danny shoved the object away. He stuffed it in the bottom of his chest, under old clothes and blankets. Out of sight. If he couldn’t see it, then it wasn’t there. It wasn’t real.

The boy paced. None of this was real. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. He just… he just needed to go to sleep. He would go to sleep and this nightmare would be over. No more feathers. No more glowing. No more eerie wind spirits. Which saved his life! He’d be dead if it hadn’t-

No. With a frantic head shake, Danny practically leapt onto his hammock. He crawled in, tossing and turning until an uneasy sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Great feathered wings stretched over Danny, filling his vision. They reached towards him and he reached back.

Swirling light and water. The feathers encircled him. The tender Voice sang. A lullaby. Safety, closeness, love.

Danny trilled back, high and melodic. Something in his chest vibrated. His back twitched, feathers brushing each other. He shone.

Movement. The pressure around him lessened. They were soaring, streaming up and-

A splash, tiny bubbles parted. Danny squeaked fearfully.

The Voice hummed and comfort filled the boy’s veins.

Higher. Blue surrounded, paler than he’d ever seen. And… light. Yellow and shining, all consuming.

Awe swelled in his heart. Danny stared at the sun.

The mer-boy woke with a gasp. His tail twitched, an ache deep in the muscle. His back itched; something invisible, immaterial fluttered, dragging in the water.

Danny opened his eyes and the feeling disappeared. For a flash, his heart throbbed, aching with its absence. Then he shook the sensation away. But his body still felt odd, too heavy and too light at the same time. His gills fluttered, taking in water. He breathed, the familiar movement foreign.

What was wrong with him?

The boy dragged his head up, rubbing his eyes. This was crazy. He was going crazy.

Something green flickered in the dark. His eyes jerked to the object, widening. He reached for it.

Fingers gripped the corner. A piece of green sea-weed parchment, familiar with its squid-ink dye. And yet… it glowed. His eyes flitted over the words.

Beloved child of my wings. I am pleased to know you are well. Not a day has passed and yet I long to see you, precious one. Meet me where the lower water mets the air and we will fly together under the stars. Love, your Abba.

Danny read it one, twice, three times. Slowly bringing it to his chest, the boy’s heart pounded. Joy and terror mixed in equal parts.

Safety, the feeling of being wrapped in protective wings, haunted him. His dream…. It had felt so real. And… feathered wings. That was what he’d seen above him as he died. An awesome, immense being with wings.

And this letter…. The honey sweet words soothed him. His own parents hadn’t talked about him with such affection in years. The promise of the stars, always calling to him from his dreams, lured him; he could see them, really see them.

But the intimacy, the familiarity there, from something he did not know….

What, or who, exactly had saved him?

#Danny Phantom #my fic #ectoimplosion2023 #Seafoam Sky #body horror #body horrow cw #Cosmic Horror #Parental Clockwork #Mer AU

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1-glitch-tech-acc-1 · 1 year ago

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GOOGLE GANGLE X ZOOBLE STORY

Gangle: havin a happy day with her happy mask* Jax: *pushes* Crybaby! Gangle: Happy mask breaks* *whimper* My comedy mask is broken again.. Jax: Its just a mask- see ya later crybaby. *walks to room in the hallway* Zooble walks up to gangle seeing shes crying: What happend now?!? Gangle: Jax.. sniff* broke my comedy mask again... Zooble: Ignore that {CENSOR} Gangle: my.. my mask though.. Zooble: here.. give it to me- *gets the mask and fixes it with superglue* Gangle: Thank you! *Wraps around Zooble* Zooble in her/his mind: I didnt know she was that strong.. Zooble: Just wait here ill take are of jax. Gangle: what are you gonna do? Zooble: I just wanna talk to him Gangle: Zooble don't kill him- Zooble: i just wanna talk to him. Gangle: ZOOBLE- Zooble: I just wanna shoot him. Gangle: WH- N- Zooble: (*GOES TO JAX'S ROOM NEXT TO HIS BED WHILE HES SLEEPING AND POINTS A SHOTGU AT HIS DAMN HEAD*) Jax: *Honk. mi mi mi. Honk. mi mi mi.* Gangle: ZOOBLE NO-! Jax: huh- HOLY {CENSOR}

PART 2 YES OR NAH?!?!?

#GOOGLE #gangle x zooble #gangle tadc #gangle the amazing digital circus #zooble #zooble x gangle #zooble the amazing digital circus #zooble tadc #part 1?

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hiemaldesirae · 8 months ago

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Swap au nonny: no plans to write this at all, so go ahead an write away =)

But yeah, Valentino thought Vox had it in the bag--now he believes that Alastor doesn't deserve death, but should be someone's bitch for eternity (he should have been Vox's, but seeing how the deer acts with Vox's stuff, he would probably like that). Velvette doesn't know what to think. She misses Vox terribly, and hates Alastor, and is very upset with Valentino for not going to Vox's distress call--she definitely would have gone, but wouldn't have made it in time as her true demon form doesn't have flight. Velvette basically did most of the work for all 3 sectors of the Vees while Alastor was punishing Valentino and Valentino's souls, and becomes friends with Niffty during those first 4 years. Once Alastor takes back the reigns and Val gets back to work, Velvette goes back to what she used to do too. Like things are mostly unchanged for her. (Mostly because she befriended Niffty and eventually Rosie. Her doing that saved her)

As for Vox's sector? His giant monitor room is clean by Niffty and is visited by Alastor once or twice a month, where Alastor ponders what Vox exactly did in the room. His office has been taken over by Alastor, his last ideas and drawings framed and safely kept in Alastor's bayou space. Vox's contracted souls continued to work for Voxtech...until a day after Alastor realized Vox was back, and that's when Vox gently pulled on their chains and called them to him. (Not like there was many left. Alastor did actually land a killing blow. Vox had to use some of his contracted souls to heal himself, destroying them in the process. But Vox lived, and that's what matters.)

Alastor does say I love you to the head he sleeps with in his bed! Also, I'm sorry, and I didn't mean too, and please come back to me. I'll be better. I'll never hurt you again, my love.

Vox does have PTSD. It's so bad that he has to take relaxation meds to go to the overlord meeting (since it's required for both allied overlords to show now) and Alastor will definitely be there, with his ally Rosie. It's fine though he has Husk.

YEAHHHHHHH YIPPEE THANK YOU NONNY I WONT DISAPPOINT I PROMISE!!!! (question for writing purposes btw. do charlie/vaggie know that vox is there on behalf of lucifer or does he just Show Up)

Urghm. wughd. imgnonna. Throw up. what the FUCK !!!!!!! what thde FUCK...................!!!!!!!!!! valvel going the FUCK through it while theyre both mourning their best friends death and harbouring so sososo much guilt from it all...if hell had therapists theyd need it more than anyone else please someone put the vees together in a cage so they can hug it out :(

oh god als such a fucking freak. i just know hed keep all of voxs old shit like pristine and clean and just looking like it was preserved in time or something, even when hes also making voxtek employees come in to do constant upgrades so that it seems more like something vox would do. trying to hold on to the pieces of him that he still has left while changing them to make it feel as if vox never left in the first place... and also, once alastor finds out vox is alive again, does he jump to the idea of having someone infiltrate the hotel to keep an eye on him or something? cause if he sends his shadow, sure thats not something they can get rid of, but he also doesnt know how well vox will respond to his shadow- even if they were close, alastor *did* kill vox nearly permanently, so is this potentially how the hotel gets niffty?

banging my head against the wall WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE SAYS SHIT LIKE 'ill be better' AND 'ill never hurt you again, just please come back to me'.... makes me think of those like, manhwas or whatever where the mc goes back in time to save someone they loved but treated like shit. they make my heart hurt what the FUCK nonny why would you do this to me.... urgh. the worst part is knowing alastor is that he does honestly probably mean it but in like His way. the toxic doomed yaoi way. like he's going to kidnap vox and keep him by his side forever if it means the other won't get hurt and almost leave again. which is usually a good thing because again. freak4freak radiostatic enthusiast here . but for swap!vox... oh my poor dear. he's probably freaking the fuck out whenever he sees al. is there even any ending where radiostatic gets a happy end :sob:

ough i can imagine husk just like standing protectively in front of vox during the meetings or something, like if rosie tries to get close to him or something he tells her firmly to leave because even though they were friends, vox cant even look her in the eye anymore because in his eyes, she *knew* what al did and still stayed by his side. she knew he killed vox and probably condoned it, and she'd probably help him do it all over again if they could- or at least that's what he thinks, but she really is just trying to get close to him again and cant understand why he's pulling back so hard. and the image of al trying to approach vox after a meeting or something only to be met with val and vels interference as husk takes vox and flies him back to the hotel- valvel get punished severely afterward for keeping them apart, obviously, but theyd do *anything* to keep vox safe especially because last time, when they didnt do enough, he almost died forever

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #swap au

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spacesapphi · 2 months ago

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"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downward Chapter 5- The Ties You've Severed"

Chapter 5.... ough...

Summary:

It's been over a year since that Winter Star party, and everyone's been struggling since. Marnie is struggling with the fallout, finding solace in her friendship with Pam through it all. She desperately hopes for a positive change, but who knows when that will come.

Too embarrassed to face Marnie again, Shane has completely cut her off from his life, leaving his aunt confused and angry. Things are coming to a head in his life where his only options are to swallow his pride or continue to drown. It would take a miracle… or a disaster to get him to do anything but drown.

CWs include : mentions of illness, disordered eating, death, and addiction

AO3 Version is here!

Tumblr version below the cut:

Over a year had passed since that Winter Star party. Marnie had hoped dearly that it was just a matter of Shane needing some time to cool off and think before talking again. The boy could be like that sometimes, go off sulking for a bit before he came back to act like an adult about things. But this time was different. Conversation went from near daily calls to maybe twice a week, then once, then the occasional text, and then nothing.

Shane hadn’t responded to any of her messages or calls in six months now, completely cutting off his life from Marnie. The poor woman just couldn’t understand why. She tried to, she truly did. Even though she knew she’d get no response, she’d attempt to talk to him anyways, letting him know she was still there for him. Even if he wasn’t willing to speak, she wanted him to know she still cared. But seeing that ‘delivered’ status on every single message, a reminder that he wasn’t even reading them, it just punched a hole through her heart.

She raised that boy for over 20 years now, treated him like her own son, put his needs and wants above her own. It wasn’t like she saw it as something that he needed to repay, but would it hurt to just speak to her once in a while? Did he understand how much it hurt for him to purposely rip her away from the last family she had in this world?

She began to think that she was the problem. Maybe if she had just reacted differently that night, had talked it out then, then maybe things would be different. Maybe Shane and Jas would still be in her life. But then again, she had every damn right to be angry at him that night and she knew it. Replaying those words in her head, being told to ‘shut the fuck up already’ , oh it made her blood boil. Going to bed to sleep on it was probably the best decision at that moment, but it didn’t make the outcome any better. Why would he just cut off all interaction, why did he just leave without a word and never explain why?! There were so many questions, and Marnie had the gut feeling she’d never get the full answer.

Sitting at her usual stool in the saloon, she stared down at the reflection in her wine glass, seeing just how tired she looked. Running the ranch was hard, but having the support of her little family made it easier. She didn’t have that anymore though, she had nothing. Yoba, she was a mess nowadays.

“Yer not lookin’ good, Marn,” Pam frowned, sliding in closer towards her friend, “What’s buggin’ you now?”

Marnie just shook her head, taking a hefty swig from her cup, “I’m fine, really.”

Pam sighed in a frustrated tone. It was so obvious something was wrong. When she had gone to see Marnie the day after the party, she was obviously distraught, and she’d been upset nearly everyday since. Even still, she insisted she was ‘just fine’, and pushed through each and every day.

“I’ll tell you this much, that stubbornness runs in yer fam’ly,” Pam scoffed, motioning aimlessly with her hand, “If I had a 100g note fer every time I heard one of ya’s tell me yer fine I could be livin’ in a damn mansion ,”

Marnie breathed out through her nose, closing her eyes tight, “It’s just… That boy, he… Oh I don’t know what to do with him anymore.”

“Has he still not talked to you?” Pam looked shocked, shaking her head disappointedly, “Marnie yer a damn saint, I’d never put up with that shit… Lemme tell you, if my Penny ever pulled somethin’ like that there’d be hell to pay.”

“Was I too harsh with him….? I just wanted to help! He needed a wakeup call, I just-” Marnie held her head in her hands, groaning in frustration. She looked up to the man behind the counter, “Gus, what would you do if you were me?”

The barkeep knit his brows together in concern, gently wiping down a glass as he spoke, “I don’t have kids but… I think you’ve done all you can. You can only do so much once they’ve left the nest, right?”

Pam slammed down her bottle, raising a brow, “If you ask me she’s too damn soft on ‘im!”

“He’s been through a lot…” Gus reminded her, giving Pam a knowing look.

“Ain’t we all!” Pam protested, throwing her hands up. She turned and pointed to Marnie, “Look, you got a nice enough boy, Marn. But ya gotta put your foot down at some point. March up to the city ‘n tell ‘im to come home, drag ‘im by the ear if you have to!”

“I just get so… angry with him,” Marnie grumbled, looking to Pam with such an exasperated look, “Is it too damn much to ask that he takes care of himself when he has a kid?! I put myself through hell and back to raise him, I did everything to keep myself together for him, why is he so-!” she slammed her head down onto the table, grumbling angrily, “Pam… I’m so furious…”

“Whuff, if it’s got Saint Marnie swearin’ up a storm, you know it’s bad,” Pam chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Marnie turned her head just enough to show her scowl. Pam smiled apologetically, “Sorry…”

“Eugh… Another one, Gus.” Marnie mumbled, motioning to her glass and letting her hand slump to the table pathetically. He made a face, looking to Pam of all people for help. She nodded in silent understanding, pulling the glass away from her.

“Listen Marn, if yer makin’ me look sober, you should prob’ly stop for the night,” she suggested, genuine concern in her tone, “Besides… it’s makin’ you look a smidge hypocritical there, mm?”

“Yoba, I hate when you’re right…” Marnie complained. She turned her head to rest her cheek on the table, looking at Pam, “You’re a good friend, you know,”

“Ain’t I just,” Pam sighed, “C’mon now, I’m takin’ you home.”

The pair trudged back to the ranch, Marnie completely silent as Pam rambled on about the day, “Penny tried to make me breakfast today. She tries, bless her heart, but she’s terrible Marn,” she chuckled, “How do you burn and undercook an egg?”

She saw her attempt at lightening the mood had fallen flat once again, that same blank stare on Marnie’s face. Pam wrapped an arm ‘round her back, squeezing her shoulder tight, “I’m sorry, Marn… I hate seein’ you like this...”

“I feel like a failure… ” Marnie mumbled, “Was I really too soft on him? Should I have been harsher?”

Pam pursed her lips, thinking for quite a bit, “Remember back in college, when we first started dormin’?” she asked, “You were the shyest little thing, sweet too. You put up with all my bullshit and I never understood why…”

Marnie raised a brow, “Where are you going with this?”

“What I’m sayin’ is it’s yer nature to be sweet and soft. Ain’t a flaw, ain’t anythin’ bad. Showin’ your family love like that, that’s somethin’ to be admired.”

The two stopped to look over the river, giving them a quiet moment. Marnie never knew Pam to be the introspective type, but she appreciated little moments like this. Pulling her shawl tighter over her shoulders, she looked over the rippling water, “What do you think I should do?”

“Distract yerself. Get back into a hobby! Do somethin’ fun!” Pam grinned, “How long’s it been since you touched a hook or needle?”

“Weeks…” Marnie huffed, “Maybe a month or two. Haven’t had much inspiration lately, I suppose.”

“Can I inspire you with some cash? It’s gettin’ cold, and Yoba knows we ain’t got proper heat in that trailer. Me n’ Penny could use a cardigan or two.”

“I’m not charging you Pam, you’re my friend.”

“Bull shit you’re not chargin’ me! Name a price,”

Marnie scoffed lightly, “Just come over sometime to talk, it’s been a while. I’d accept that instead.”

“I’d do that anyway, Marn, that ain’t any compensation. Just you wait, you’ll find some extra g in yer purse when you least expect, and I ain’t takin’ it back,”

A small, soft smile found its way onto Marnies face, a quiet, soft chuckle escaping her, “Thank you… for trying to make me feel better,”

“Aww there she is!” Pam squeezed her a little tighter, “Been missin’ that laugh,”

She looked over to the path leading into the woods, “Think it’s time for you t’ head home now. You ranchers gotta be up with the sun, or somethin’ right?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Marnie shrugged. She pulled Pam into a hug, “Again, thank you.”

“Heh, don’t mention it,” Pam mused, giving her a firm pat on the back, “And listen, if I ever see yer boy I’ll give him an earful for you, okay?”

“Pam…”

“Seriously, Marn…” Pam sighed, “Lemme know if there’s anythin’ I can do. Can’t take seein’ you mope around like this.”

“I will, I promise.”

The women waved each other off for the night, heading in opposite directions towards their homes. Closing the door behind her, Marnie swiftly made her way to her room, resigning herself for the night.

The crickets outside the window chirped loudly as Marnie readied herself for sleep. Sitting at her vanity in her nightgown as she combed through her hair, staring off into space as she let her mind wander. She looked over to the framed photo sitting right next to her mirror, sighing softly. It was old and faded, the colors worn from age. She and her sister were merely young teens in it, sitting high atop the ranches fence, posing in a silly fashion as their father took their photo. They looked so happy and carefree, giggling about something she couldn’t remember, hugging each other tight. Marnie missed it so much.

“I don’t know what to do with your boy, Mona,” she huffed, biting a lip in frustration, “He gets it from you, you know. That damn stubbornness. Like mother, like son, neither of you knew when to get help.”

Placing down the comb, she took the photo into her hands, rubbing a thumb over the wood frame, “I’m afraid he’ll end up like you , that I’m going to get that call and… I don’t think my heart could take burying him too. And then I’d have to take in Jas… I’m getting too old to raise another child…”

“You would’ve known what to do, you were always the smart one…” tears bit at her eyes, lips pursing tightly as she fought back crying, “I feel like such a failure… ” her voice grew angry, but at who she didn’t know, “Why’d you have to die on us? Why couldn’t you just accept my help? I told you I’d come home to help you!”

Her mind fled back to her days as a young woman, far before tragedy had fallen upon her family. Marnie wanted so badly to be an artist back in her youth, to travel around the Ferngill Republic and join exhibitions and artists guilds. Mona was her biggest fan, encouraging her sister each and every day to chase that dream.

Their father had made it clear that at least one of them had to take over the ranch one day, harping on the importance of it to their family history and tradition. It left the girls in a tough spot. Both of them had big dreams, but only one could achieve them. Mona wanted to be a doctor someday, to be someone who could help others. She’d been hoping to study under the doctor who was living in town at the time, actually. But seeing how excited and passionate Marnie was about her talents made her repress those dreams, and accept the responsibility laid out for her. Her sister’s happiness was a priority to her, even if it meant sacrificing her own.

Marnie would go on to be accepted at a great institute with an amazing arts program. She made important connections, met Pam for the first time, and she was truly thriving. She never felt more alive than she did in the city, feeling like for the first time she was reaching for the stars, and could actually touch them. She had no clue how much the opposite it was for Mona until it was getting to be too late.

The poor woman was struggling. Raising a baby on her own, running the ranch as the sole owner, having little social life and few relationships because of how much time everything in life soaked up. It was taking a toll on her mind and body, a very noticeable toll. She was barely 28 when her hair began to gray, growing sicker and frailer by the day. Marnie had gotten into a huge blowout fight with her over it, concerned more than anything for her sister's health.

The fight wasn’t too unlike the one she had with Shane, actually. It was eerily similar actually, happening in the same spot in the house and all. She vividly remembered Mona yelling at her to ‘drop it already!’, assuring she was fine when the opposite was clearly true. She all but forced Marnie to go back to college, to finish her degree and fulfill her dreams, leaving the ranch to her. Mona had sacrificed so much for her, and she wasn’t going to let her give up in the homestretch like that. She would die mere months after that fight, the stress quite literally killing her. Marnie had to come home after all, giving up her dream to take over the family business, to raise Shane along with it.

She’d been a mess back then, a broken, miserable mess. Pam had chastised her for being ‘too soft’ on Shane through this, but she remembered how desperately she needed someone to have been there for her, and she never wanted him to feel that pain too. But now, he was inflicting it on himself, and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing to do but pray.

She closed her eyes, silently begging Yoba to keep him and Jas safe, to allow him to come back home where he belonged. Her faith had been slipping from her the past year, growing weaker by the day, but she still held on tight to that hope that Yoba would hear her, that they would watch over and protect them.

“ Wherever they are…” she thought, “ Let them be safe and well.”

- - - - - -

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“I don’t care, Yoder. I have given you three extensions, three! I’m not running a charity here!”

Shane rubbed his eyes, leaning against the doorway to his apartment, “Look, I get paid tomorrow morning. Can I give you the rent then? It’s the best I can do, Rich.”

The older man huffed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, “I… fine. Fine. But only because of her.” He pointed through the doorway to Jas, who sat at the kitchen table, “I don’t want to have to throw a kid out on the streets, and I’m sure you don’t want that either. Have it to me by tomorrow and we’ll be fine.”

“Thank you…” Shane breathed, feeling the relief flood him, “Seriously, thank you.”

“If it’s not in my hands by 5 tomorrow, you’re done, ” Rich warned, “No more extensions, no more forgiveness. I’m serious, Shane.”

“I know… Thank you.”

“And clean out your mailbox, would you? It’s overflowing.”

Shane reluctantly looked at the overstuffed box, nervous to even glance at the bright red lettering on the envelopes screaming “OVERDUE” at him. He’d maxed out just about every credit card he could get, paying insane amounts of money each month, going into the red over it at times. Rent had gotten higher after the new year, leaving him with less and less money to afford the important things. Life was expensive, raising a kid was expensive, everything just piled up. His landlord had tried to be understanding, giving him many extensions and breaks over the past year. But his generosity was running thin, and Shane could tell. He couldn’t blame him either

He ripped the letters from the mailbox, shuffling through them as he made his way to the table. Jas sat with her head resting on one hand, making a face as she poked her tv dinner with a fork.

“Jas, honey, stop playing with your food,” Shane scolded lightly. Jas whined and gave him a pout, “It smells funny…”

“You need to eat something , come on.”

“Why can’t I have something else?”

“We don’t have anything else.”

“Whyyyy?” Jas grumbled, scrunching her nose as she speared a soggy vegetable with her fork.

“We can’t afford it, Jas,” that much was true. Actually, Shane couldn’t even afford this anymore. He was blessed in a way to have that stocking job. As wages stagnated and costs raised, Shane found himself with less and less money for necessities, including groceries. He’d often slip items in his bag after hours, becoming a bit of a ‘borrowing’ pro over the past few months. It was risky, and he could never take too much during a shift, but it was working for now.

Jas furrowed her brow, giving him a look, “Why aren’t you eatin?”

Shane shrugged, giving her a smile, “Heh. Don’t need to. Uncle Shane doesn’t get hungry.”

“You’re being silly!” Jas laughed, “Yes you do!”

“Nah, it’s a superpower I got! You just worry about your own dinner, okay?” “Okay…” Jas finally gave in, shoveling the freezer burnt food in her mouth. It didn’t taste as bad as she thought it would, more bland than anything, a twinge of that stale freezer-taste to it. It was to be expected of such a cheap meal. She swallowed a bite and looked back up to her godfather, “I wish I didn’t get hungry...”

Shane’s smile crumbled, replaced with a look of deep guilt. He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the appropriate words to say. He wanted to apologize for being such a terrible guardian, for letting her down again and again. Making sure she didn’t know just how bad things were was his top priority. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to worry about that, about things a 4 year old should never have to think about. He was supposed to be responsible, he was supposed to shield her from that reality. And he was trying his best, he truly was… but it was getting more and more difficult.

Jas had noticed, and she had for a while. She noticed when the pantry and fridge got emptier and emptier as time went on, when envelopes with big red letters would come in and make him look stressed, when he’d cry when he thought she wasn’t looking, when he started eating very little at meal times, and eventually not eat at all. He’d been getting so thin . He looked so sick and exhausted every day, his hair beginning to gray before he even reached his 30’s. But even with all of it, he gave her a smile, and told her everything was okay.

Jas pushed away the dinner, “Can I go play now?” Shane nodded, “Go have fun,”

The little girl hopped away from the table, running to grab her dolls and sit under the blanket fort she’d made by the tv early this afternoon. Putting on a show in the background, she began to act out a story with the toys, off in her own little world.

As soon as Shane was sure she wasn’t paying attention to him, he pulled the leftover dinner close to him, eating every last bit of what Jas left behind, even the parts he hated . It wasn’t even close to a full meal, but it quieted the growling in his stomach just enough to let him focus on something else. He felt a deep pang in his soul as he ate, a feeling that encompassed many an emotion; embarrassment, rage, grief. He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling of self-loathing he felt right now.

Throwing the trash into the adjacent can, he sneakily opened the fridge and lifted a can from the shelf. Beer was one of his riskier items to steal, and the most embarrassing. Yoba, Marnie was right about this being an addiction. He hated that it took this long to admit. He just wanted to dump it down the drain, to say ‘no more’ and make a change for the better. But every time he tried, it never worked for more than a few days. Withdrawal would kick in, an itching pain growing beneath his skin, a deep, animalistic urge to grab another can clawing at his mind. He hated it, he hated himself for it, but he just couldn’t stop.

The one good thing about eating so little was that the alcohol got to him quicker. Drinking on a near empty stomach made him get drunk faster, meaning he went through less cans. It wasn’t healthy still, not by any means, but it certainly was better than normal. It was how he justified it to himself, something he lied to himself with to make himself feel the slightest bit better about all of this.

He jolted as a buzz rang through his phone, the vibration moving it a few inches across the table. There was just a single notification, a ‘goodnight’ text from Marnie. He reached out for his phone, stopping just before his fingers touched the case. Something wouldn’t let him grab it, wouldn’t let him respond. He desperately wanted to call her, to cry and beg for her forgiveness, to ask for help. But his pride held him in a chokehold, refusing to release him for even a moment.

He didn’t mean for it to get this bad. He didn’t mean to sever those ties with Marnie. Initially he just needed time to recoup from the embarrassment of what he’d done that night, what he said. But eventually, he became more and more ashamed to face her, to tell her the truth of what was happening. He was flat broke, an exuberant amount of g in debt, unable to afford basic necessities, barely making rent even with extensions, and deep in the throes of addiction.

He was drowning, and he didn’t want her to know. He felt like an absolute failure of a father, a nephew, and a person. He couldn’t bear to face her. Even when he felt ready to, this gnawing guilt in his mind told him to stay away. He’d ignored her for so long already, she must despise him at this point. That’s what he believed, anyway. He felt it was too little, too late to save that bond, and decided the only course of action from here was to just leave it severed.

Looking out at Jas, he knew something needed to change, for her sake. Oh if her parents could see him, he knew they’d despise him now, just like he believed Marnie did. It was a mistake for them to entrust him with Jas, to give such a screw-up like him such a big responsibility. He couldn’t forgive himself for how bad things were, for how bad he let it get. When would he just swallow his pride and run back home already to get help? It would take a miracle, or a disaster, to get him to do so, that much was certain.

He still didn’t believe in Yoba, but just this once, he made an exception. Bowing his head and folding his hands, he thought a silent prayer.

“If you’re real… Please let Marnie forgive me.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #sdv jas #sdv marnie #sdv fanfiction #fanfic #mfsd

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fireflice · 1 year ago

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Losing feeling is getting old

You can’t remember the last time someone cared for you, having lived your life completely on your own from a young age. Now, there was someone trying to break down those walls, yet they had walls of their own. What happens when two emotionally stunted people realize that they care for one another?

Joel x reader | gender neutral!reader | age gap (reader is 20+) | Events take place in Boston before Ellie | TW: Injury, blood, illness

It was well into the night when you arrived home, heaving with each agonizing step up those beaten down stairs in your apartment complex. Things had gone exceptionally wrong this night, the group you had been travelling with having come into some trouble with a crowd of raiders along the outskirts of the QZ. Clearly things hadn’t gone to plan, having been split up from the rest of your comrades during the altercation, so you had been left to get back home on your own accord despite having gained a few injuries.

Pushing the door open with a resounding thud, regardless of the time, you gripped at the angry wound on your side as the pounding behind your eyes grew ever incessant with each passing second. Someone had managed to get you in the head with some sort of blunt object, and with the slurry of nausea that had begun to settle in your stomach, it likely had caused a concussion. All of this was secondary to the effects of the blood loss from the slash that had broken apart your skin, crimson staining the clothes on your left side.

You needed to lay down, and the couch looked inviting enough, hobbling over with another deep sigh as you lowered your aching body onto the cushions. It wasn’t long before the dingy walls of your apartment began to fade into darkness, falling into an exhaustion induced slumber.

A deep rumble of someone’s voice had managed to pull you out of the unsettled sleep that had enveloped you only moments after laying down. How long had you been out?

“Hey...you’re bleedin' out.”

Your eyes cracked open after a moment of trying to distinguish the owner of the voice, and only then did you realize the weight of a strong pair of hands attempting to push your body upright along the couch cushions.

Eventually, you had been shifted into more of a sitting position, eliciting a soft sound of defiance as your body screamed in pain.

“You’re alright.”

Only now did you let your attention focus back on the other person in the room, recognizing that gruff appearance and abrasive tone anywhere.

Joel.

“Looks like you’re already startin' to decompose.” He grumbled, though it took you a moment to respond, still completely in shock from nothing related to your injuries, but more so the fact that Joel was here, crouching in front of your tender body that was now coming back to life with jolts of pain. Dark eyes searched your own, and you must look pretty worse for wear based on how the man was observing you with a light furrow in his brow.

Your lips dropped open to reply, but the other cut you off before you had a chance, likely sensing your confusion.

“Tess caught some of the others on their way back. They mentioned you’d been separated, so I came to see if you were still alive.” He drawled, that Texan accent coating each word like a thick layer of honey.

“Still here, somehow.” You huffed out a short laugh, and it only caused another bout of pain to flare behind your eyes, wincing with the pressure.

“Stop movin’, I’ll be back in a second.” Joel announced suddenly, shifting to get up from where he had been crouched with a groan of his own, heading in the direction of your busted kitchen cabinets. He knew that you’d have some alcohol stashed somewhere, grabbing a half empty bottle and a nearby cloth that looked clean enough before returning, this time sitting himself at your side on the couch.

“If you don’t die from blood loss, surely the infection will get ya.” And without any warning, those rough hands were pushing your own out of the way, pulling up the blood soaked shirt that had adhered itself to your skin, his gaze never wavering from the task at hand. Joel carefully doused the cloth in a sufficient amount of alcohol, before bringing it to the wound at your side, the sting of it immediately burning as he wiped away some of the dried blood, and all you could do was whine in agony and attempt to keep yourself upright with whatever strength you had left. The slash was deep, but nothing important had been damaged. With the proper care, it would become nothing more than an ugly scar.

The room fell silent for a moment as the man worked on cleaning up your wound, thick with the words that neither of you dared to speak for fear of breaking the stillness. It was all still somewhat of a shock, not only Joel being in your apartment, but tending to your injuries without being summoned to do so. The guy was brash and frightening to most, having a reputation for keeping to himself majority of the time, much like yourself. The both of you had been known to skirt around one another, too similar in your ways which tended to result in clashing opinions. Joel was just as emotionally distant as you were, which is why the current circumstances were so surreal.

“Bandages?” He asked after what felt like an eternity, your eyes catching his own before flicking away, though you could feel his gaze searching the side of your face regardless.

“Bathroom, under the sink.” You managed to wheeze out, and without any time to spare, the man was up from the couch to go retrieve those as well, returning just as quickly as he had left.

It felt incredibly odd to just sit here while Joel rummaged around your apartment, the couch dipping down with his weight once more so that he could attend to your injuries. It was even stranger when the man took your hand ever so gently to place it against the cut on your side, instructing you to apply pressure while he prepared the bandages.

Nonetheless, you listened, too worn down to question much of anything right now, and pushed as hard as you could muster against the cut in your skin, biting at your lip enough to potentially draw blood as to not let out any more cries of pain. This didn’t last long however, as Joel once again removed your hands so that he could apply the bandages swiftly, years of experience coming in handy.

“Jesus, you been bleedin’ out all this time.” He muttered as he worked, finishing off the patch up job with another swipe of the cloth against your side to assure that most of the blood was cleared.

The room quickly fell quiet again, your head swivelling slowly to look at the man at your side, only to see that Joel was still holding onto the fabric of your ruined shirt, clearly contemplating what to do next. You could nearly see the gears turning behind that crease between his thick eyebrows.

“Grab me some clean clothes.” You said, cutting the tension and giving the other something to do besides sit there, but it was also a way to get a bit of distance between the both of you. This closeness was overwhelming in every sense, and maybe it was the concussion speaking, but you were starting to feel slightly sick from it.

Joel was not gentle, he was not kind, and he certainly wasn’t one to coddle or look after anyone unless the situation was dire. Even then, you had only observed this behaviour when it came to Tess, most people assuming that the two of them were indeed a couple, though nothing had been confirmed. It was almost as if he had been possessed, peering over to where the man had walked into your bedroom to forage through the drawers in search for something new for you to wear. Maybe you really were dying and simply experiencing hallucinations, as that could be the only explanation for all of this.

Before Joel could return, your injuries made themselves known once again with another wave of feeling lightheaded, toppling sideways on the cushions as before. The blood loss was extensive, the concussion just as troubling, and regardless of the older man who was now making his way back over in your direction, your vision went black around the edges until you could no longer see at all, fading out of consciousness.

It felt all too familiar, the hazy blur of your surroundings coupled with the heat of something weighing down on your body, except this time the warmth was much more substantial and fairly noticeable than before. You were lodged against something solid, resembling the rigidity of your broken-down mattress, though there was a sort of softness that was foreign to your usual surroundings. "Good, you didn't die on me." Oh right, Joel was here. Joel was still here, but not only that, he was in your room, perched on the edge of the bed. Looking down, you notice the change in your attire, now dressed in a thick sweater and some old sweatpants you had stashed away, a blanket tucked over your hips. Your body still ached and your head felt even worse, but at least this was a tad more comfortable than where you had previously blacked out on the couch. "You needed to get warm." He mumbled in explanation after noticing the way you were examining your surroundings. Only now was it sinking in that it wasn't possible for you to get dressed on your own, as you had been unconscious. That must be the reason that Joel was refusing to even turn his head in your direction, staring off at one of the bedroom walls as if it was suddenly so interesting. So that means...Joel had seen everything. That wasn't mortifying or anything. Despite the invasion of privacy, it was a thoughtful gesture that you greatly appreciated. "Thanks...this is a lot better." You say with a soft sigh, sinking into the pillow beneath your throbbing head. Still, the man doesn't bother to look in your direction, and now that things had settled down, those questions from before had risen up once again, despite the nerves at figuring out what had happened while you weren't mentally present. So you decide to finally ask. "Why are you still here?" And now the other had finally dared to look at you, those heavy eyes peering into your own with an unreadable face to match. Joel was a hard guy to understand and an even harder one to break, so when his body shifted along the mattress to turn more in your direction, it made your breath hitch in your throat, which at least you could blame on your unstable condition if he had noticed it. "You'd be fuckin' dead if it weren't for me." He grumbled, attempting to deflect the genuine tone attached to your question, but you could see right through the way his eyes flicked away from yours before returning again. As strange as this was for you, it was clearly just as strange for him, despite his continuously caring actions. "I know, and I'm grateful. I appreciate you looking out for me-" And before you could get another word out, the man let out a scoff, head shaking before locking his gaze on your confused expression. "I shouldn't have to be lookin' out for you. If you weren't so goddamn careless, I wouldn't have to be here." He barked, leaning in on the mattress to where he was almost towering over your battered body, imposing in your personal space without hesitance. "I didn't ask you to do this, Joel. I didn't ask you to stay." You countered, the raised tone of your voice doing nothing to help the pounding behind your eyes. "But I had to stay, didn't I? I had to make sure you didn't fuckin' bleed out on the floor. I couldn't let you go out like that." He sighed in response, and just for a second, there was a flash of something across that worn down face of the man above you, something that let you catch a glimpse of the ‘monster’ behind the walls that he built up to keep everyone out. Something that alluded to the fact that Joel might actually care, and that thought was scarier than whatever was going on with you physically. "Why…?” And you knew that this continual questioning must be grating on the man’s nerves, but you just had to know. What was the motivation behind all of this? You had found yourself beginning to warm up to Joel over time, but it seemed nearly impossible that he felt the same way towards you.

After a myriad of silence, you asked once again, and this time it was met with another deep sigh from the man, his gaze straying from your face to rest somewhere along the bed, avoiding your eyes directly.

“I told myself i’d keep you safe.” He revealed quietly after a moment of heavy silence, and for such a simple statement, it hit you like a truck. It was essentially, in Joel’s own terms, a confession of fondness. For the man to go out of his way to ensure your safety and general wellbeing was confusing to say the least, and however much you wanted to accept it, you just couldn’t.

You had been so independent for so long, physically incapable of allowing anyone to tend on you unless absolutely necessary, and this entire encounter had already been more than you could usually handle. The embarrassment was slowly beginning to creep in, those tendencies to push people away coming back in full force, and now it was your turn to avert your gaze away from the other.

“Please…you don’t have to.” You attempted to weakly plead, but it wasn’t very convincing despite your efforts. “I can handle myself.”

“Like hell you can” Joel countered before you were even finished speaking. The man was no fool, and it was blatantly obvious that you were neglecting your own health lately, especially with the current circumstances.

Despite the harshness in which he had been speaking to you thus far, you noted that his expression had softened out just slightly, or at least you thought so based on the stolen glances you took in between staring at the tattered blankets thrown across your lower half.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and it seemed like neither of you wished to speak and cause a disturbance to the awkward silence that had been created, until Joel finally took a breath.

“Scoot over.” He demanded suddenly, giving you no time to adjust as he shifted to drag his legs up onto the bed, seemingly intent on settling down beside you. It was shocking to say the least, but you complied easily, making enough room for the man to rest himself at your side, his back pressed against the headboard.

You could never have imagined yourself in a situation such as this, bleeding and battered with the man that was Joel Miller having been the one to take care of you, and was now joining you by resting atop your sheets. The both of you were quiet, refusing to ruffle the somewhat comfortable silence that had settled, only the sound of your conjoined breathing echoing around the shabby room. Without realizing, you had faded into a light slumber from the gentle, soothing silence that engulfed you, only waking when a patrol vehicle barrelled down the street at some hour during the early morning, the engine rumbling loud enough to agitate your aching head. As you came into consciousness, the wound on your side screaming to remind you of its presence, you could only focus on the heat that was pressed against your back that was overwhelmingly obvious, with only one thing that could be the culprit, causing your heart to pick up at even the mere thought of such a thing. It was an agonizing process to roll over on the bed, the throbbing behind your eyes only worsening with each strenuous movement, but it was well worth it to bear witness to the sight before you once you had finally managed to flip over. Joel lay at your side, an arm lightly slung over your waist that had been somewhat disturbed by your change in position, sleeping soundly as you had never seen him do before. Oftentimes, Joel had elected himself as the lookout when necessary during supply runs, so it was truly an extraordinary display to see the man resting in such a way as this, dead to the world as light breaths passed his lips, in awe that you were able to observe him so closely. His thick brows had lost the seemingly permanent crease between them, with dark lashes resting against his tanned skin. It was unusual to see Joel without his classic scowl, but you decided that you much preferred this expression.

"Go back to sleep." And the sudden low grumbling had startled you, only realizing that the man was somewhat awake after your heart had calmed down from the fright, which meant that he was clearly aware that you had been staring at him. How embarrassing. It would be bold to act on your sleepy impulses, afraid of testing the waters, but it was ultimately the slight tug on your clothes from the others hand that had convinced you to settle down once again, still facing the rugged man that had placed you in bed and decided to crawl in beside you. It still felt unreal, especially in the early morning light that had begun to peek through tattered curtains, illuminating the high points of Joel's angled features. Finally, you decided to do as you had been told, shifting to nudge your face against the mans chest, able to catch the scent of smoke, what was surely just dirt, and something that was inherently just Joel. He didn't oppose to the action, so you stayed put, comforted by the warmth that his solid body provided. In this place, your wounds had been forgotten, the fear and uneasiness you had felt all your life merely fading into the background. All that mattered at this moment was the strong arm that held you close, but gentle all the same. You were safe, and even if the morning would come to be confusing and awkward when the both of you were to face the reality of the chaos from the night before, that was a problem for then, not now. At this moment, this was something that you had not known you were craving, but it was filling a gap that you were unaware had even been there. It was uncharacteristic for the both of you, not to mention a complete shift in whatever relationship had been established previously, yet it felt all too natural. Joel was beside you, he had stayed the night after cleaning you up from your injuries, and that meant more than you could ever put into words. Perhaps he would deny his actions once the sun rose fully, but for now, he was resting peacefully with a grip on your waist. However he tried to deny it, you would still know the truth. However you tried to deny your own feelings, it would be the same. For right now, you were together, whatever that could possibly mean in the future.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #ace drabbles #I have not written in a long time pls be nice to me

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 11 months ago

Text

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Night terrors; Mild illness; Minor sexual themes; Allusions to abuse; Mention of scars

A/N: I somehow banged this out with a migraine and a horrible bout of depression, so it may receive further editing. If I change anything major, I’ll highlight it and make it known that there is new content. I’m never confident about my work but even less so this time. This slow-burn is really burning slow because our two damaged, adorable idiots. But they’re making progress! Thanks for sticking with me anyway. 💙

Carol was able to pull Daryl aside early the following morning. When she stopped just below the top step, she could see you were sound asleep on the mattress, curled in on yourself in a way she hadn’t seen for a while. Her heart ached with the knowledge that your trust in her had been damaged, if not destroyed, by two loathsome snakes.

Beside you, atop a sleeping bag on the floor, Daryl was awake with one arm behind his head while the other hand was busy twirling a bolt between his fingers. He already knew she was there, that came as no surprise. He held a finger to his lips that moved to make a shooing motion as he quietly got to his still booted feet. Carol descended and waited on the bottom step.

His hand came to rest on the small of her back to guide her to the main door and outside. No way he’d risk anyone overhearing this conversation.

“What’s up, Pookie?” She grinned at him when he scowled and grumbled under his breath. Why she insisted on calling him that was beyond him. It didn’t make him uncomfortable. Maybe it had just settled into their own form of banter and he didn’t really mind at all. That’s not why he was here though!

Focus, dumbass. “Need ta talk ‘bout Y/N.” He felt his cheeks begin to warm, finding himself pleading with any deity that it was too early and there was too little light for her to see.

“So I gathered after that hug I saw.” His gaze snapped up to hers, more surprised than angry. She was immediately holding up her hands to bid him pause. “I wasn’t snooping! I had just come inside and you apparently were so wrapped up— literally —that you didn’t notice me.”

He held his intensity briefly before he deflated. “Th’fuck am I doin’, Carol?” He valued her opinion. She hardly ever steered him wrong, fearing he’d be hurt either emotionally or physically and that was not something she was willing to risk. He knew that.

“I told you before. I think you like her. Here, sit down.” He huffed a breath through his nose but obliged nonetheless, climbing on top of a table with his boots on the bench. Carol took her place beside him. “I think you’re feeling connected with her somehow. Maybe like you and me.”

“Nah. Well…maybe.” He growled and propped his elbows on his knees, his fingers tugging at his hair in frustration. “I know I want ‘er ta be safe, wanna protect ‘er. Feel responsible fer ‘er.”

“If you’re asking my honest opinion, and I think you are or I wouldn’t be out here right now, I don’t think this is a question of responsibility, Daryl.” He let his left hand drop and tipped his head to face her, fingers of his right hand still in his hair. “You want to be her friend and even though she’s scared, she wants that too.”

The archer opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a clicking of teeth. He suddenly felt self conscious, worried that his best friend, of all people, would judge him for the explicit thoughts he was having about you. He decided quickly that he wouldn’t divulge that portion of his plight. It made most of the conversation asinine but why did he ever think he could fess up to something so perverse?

“I don’t think spending a little more time with her would be such a bad thing. If anything, maybe you could help her feel safe again.” Carol looked down at her hands, picking idly at her nails.

“Ya gon’ try n’ patch things up with ‘er?” Truthfully, he was grateful to take the focus off of himself for even a moment.

Carol nodded, looking out over the trees at the first light of the morning that began to stretch across the sky. “Yeah, I will. Maybe when she’s in a better headspace.”

Daryl tipped his chin down in a nod, unable to manage any words of support before the prison door burst open. Maggie called out, most likely for him, but he was already moving at the sound of your screams, passing over the threshold in only a few large strides. He cleared two steps at a time on his way up, no hesitation before kneeling beside the mattress.

Nightmares were a part of trauma with which he was intimately familiar.

“Hey, hey, hey. Y/N. Wake up, girl.” He made sure not to touch you. The presence of hands on you when caught between awake and asleep after a night terror would result in nothing good. He knew from experience. Your head rolled back and forth, tears cascading down your temples, your face red from screaming though you had quieted to moans and whimpers.

“She woke up the whole prison.” Carl muttered from beside Rick on the steps, clearly annoyed.

Distantly, Judith had begun to wail; several voices were raised. Daryl turned toward the audience gathered in his space, the discontentment in his glare enough to send them scattering to do damage control. Carol stayed behind, her presence acting as an anchor when he seemed to falter.

He blocked out everything else, his entire focus on you. He usually woke from his nightmares on his own and retreated, but watching you struggle— watching you suffer —wasn’t something he could sit idly by and do nothing to at least try and help you. It was a long shot, but he carefully leaned across to where you laid, as close to your ear as he could get without touching, and whispered so low that Carol could only watch his mouth move.

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul n’ sings the tune without the words n’ never stops at all.”

He felt ridiculous once the first word fell from his lips, but when you began to settle, he blinked and watched you for any indication that you would wake or fall back into your terror. You did neither. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when he stood, careful not to disturb the mattress.

Carol appeared just as surprised. “What’d you say to her?”

It was a reflex to become defensive but the sharp words died on his tongue. Had it been anyone else, surely he wouldn’t have held back. He never meant to be cold or cruel to anyone. It was in his hardwiring, and he had been actively attempting to alter the circuitry since finding a place within the group.

“Was a, uh…a thing I read once in school. Kinda stuck with me. Ain’t important.” He was scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, more concerned with the flush he knew had assumed residence on his cheeks.

Carol leaned around him to see you snoring softly. She smirked and patted his cheek, leaving him there to go help with the calamity in the cells. He was chewing his thumbnail seconds after her departure, watching you from the top of the stairs.

He removed his boots there, afraid the noise would disrupt your newfound peace. A sudden exhaustion settled over him, his sleeping bag feeling like the plushest mattress at the fanciest hotel— not that he knew what that felt like anyway. He assumed it would probably be more of a distraction than a comfort. He’d rather have a cot or the hard ground deep in the wilderness any day.

Daryl stared at the high ceilings, barely visible in the darkness that had consumed the space without the flashlights and candles of the perturbed residents. Try as he might to focus on the most trivial things, his thoughts continued to circle back to you.

There was a rustling of fabric and he let his head roll toward the mattress. You had turned toward him, face still relaxed in peaceful slumber. His blue eyes narrowed, the pinched expression he always had when trying to piece something together. Rolling over, he turned his back to you and scrubbed a hand over his face.

He was beyond fucked.

Over the span of the next week, you could take apart a gun, clean it, and put it back together. You struggled with remembering the order of reassembling at first but, to your pleasant surprise, Daryl was alarmingly patient. His jaw would tick once in a while, obviously holding back the urge to rush you. You had smiled gratefully, stifling a giggle at his mumbled curse.

You still hadn’t spoken, aside from the first day in Daryl’s perch. No, not even to him. He didn’t seem to mind but you caught the few times he’d speak and look at you from the corner of his eye, almost like he was hopeful that what he’d said would merit a verbal response.

Regardless, it was as if your voice had just locked itself away somewhere dark in the fissures scattered across your mind. You were even more damaged, more broken than before.

When Daryl was leaving to hunt, you tried to follow. It was one of the few times in this new dynamic between the two of you that he seemed to lose the composure he had gradually been building around you.

“Hell nah! Ain’t takin’ ya out there and babysittin’ ya when ya don’ know shit ‘bout wha’ yer doin’ in here! Get on back inside!”

You flinched away with your lip quivering. He didn’t apologize. With a growl of annoyance, he yelled for the gate to be opened and stomped into the forest. His demeanor was different when he returned, a few rabbits in hand. After prepping and dropping off his kills with Carol, he approached you and said it was time for you to become familiar with a gun.

You thought that pointing and firing was the jist of it. You couldn’t have been more wrong. Just like the ‘stab and pull’ at the fence, you would now ‘disassemble and reassemble’. It wasn’t clear to you why learning this step was important but if Daryl was uncompromising in teaching you, then you would learn.

You worked hard to familiarize yourself with the weapons, scrutinizing each surface, weighing them in your hands, meticulously examining the parts to see how they fit together. You’d catch the archer watching you while he busied himself with other projects; sharpening his knives, carving bolts, tending to his crossbow. There were a few times that you could have sworn you’d seen him smile.

The man had become a steady presence, allowing you to follow him and learn the more hands-on aspects of protecting the prison. Once you had healed and felt like accompanying him outside, he had trained you for another day with your knife before allowing you to start helping him clear the fences daily. The meals he didn’t skip were spent eating silently beside you, disappearing long before you had finished. He showered daily, sometimes twice. You overheard Maggie and Carol make mention of how they’d never seen him so adamant to remain clean. At the end of the day, sometimes he’d join you in the perch. Other times, you fell asleep alone.

Those nights were when the men that had hurt you would penetrate your dreams, painting them thickly with a suffocating shroud of black and gray. They would corner you, reach out with their filthy fingers like claws, and you’d cower in anticipation of the pain. Always before a single inch of your skin could be marred, a wall erected itself in front of you, protecting you. A warmth would seep from the structure, enveloping you in a safety that forced the darkness from your dreams. You would wake up feeling rested but always still alone.

Daryl, on the other hand, always looked tired. The days he appeared haggard and sluggish were when his patience flagged. He would raise his voice before he would seemingly think better of it, walk a short distance away for a cigarette, and return with that kindness again present in his exhausted gaze.

Today was one of those days.

You hadn’t done anything to set him off, simply cleaning the .22 pistol he’d given you while he sat on the other end of the picnic bench hunched over the table. He didn’t look at you or even check your progress, simply sitting with his elbows on the table and a hand on each side of his head. It was likely better to leave him be, just continue with your task. Attempting to engage him would most certainly lead to nothing good.

Then he coughed.

You made quick work of the reassembling, placed the weapon down on the cloth, and folded your hands on your lap, eyeing the archer for several minutes before he noticed no sound coming from your side of the table. Daryl dropped a hand to the flat surface and squinted red-rimmed eyes at you. He was quite pale compared to just that morning when you’d found him outside. He didn’t seem like he was sick very often. Maybe battered, bruised, and bloody but not sick.

You pursed your lips and slid down the bench, stopping across from him to lean forward with your arms folded on the table.

“Wha’re ya doin’?” His voice was more raspy than usual, a rougher edge that sounded uncomfortable. Your head tilted even though he seemed less than thrilled to be under your scrutiny. “G’on. Work on the gun.” He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, a deep sigh shifting into another cough. Daryl turned his face into his elbow and waved you toward the other side.

You refused to budge.

“S’wrong with ya? Got a hearin’ prob—” You could see the moment he caught himself and reined in the hostility. “Jus’ take the day. Ya done good. Work on handlin’ the thing tomorrow.” The hunter didn’t wait for you to move. Probably just assumed you would. With his arms now folded similarly to your own, he laid his forehead on top of them with a groan.

Your concern only grew when he didn’t sense you were still present. With a deep breath, you slid back over to grab the cloth and gun, tucking the weapon into the waistband of your jeans and the cloth into your back pocket. You would be lying if you didn’t admit to feeling a small amount of anxiety while approaching him. You needed to repeatedly remind yourself that it was Daryl and he would never hurt you.

When close enough, you placed a hesitant palm against the back of his head. The archer flinched and quickly bolted upright, startling you in the process.

“Th’fuck, Y/N?” He barked hoarsely. Your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers loose on the too warm skin in case he pulled away. You motioned for him to follow you with the slightest tug of his arm. He was definitely confused but without knowing what you needed, he followed obediently. Your hand remained around his wrist.

The gloom inside the prison only made Daryl look worse. He was clearly exhausted and battling what seemed to be a cold. Hopefully nothing more than that. He said nothing as you guided him up the stairs and stepped out of his way upon reaching the top. Brow knitted, he pressed the heel of his left hand against his forehead.

“Gon’ explain or ‘m I gettin’ three guesses?” His voice strained at the end when he tried and failed to subdue a cough. Ducking your head to catch his eye after the spell, you pointed to the mattress. “Huh?”

You deadpanned. Daryl was anything but dense. He had to be sick if he wasn’t understanding what you were trying to accomplish. You realized that your hand still held his wrist and walked backwards to urge him along, stepping up onto the mattress with what you hoped was an encouraging smile.

Daryl did not appear to be encouraged. Wide blue eyes vibrated as he attempted to look between your own. “Y/N.” He was gentle when he extricated his arm, stepping backward with a shake of his head.

It was your turn to be confused. You simply wanted to get him to lie down on the— oh. It started as a giggle but soon you were actually laughing, damn near startling yourself. The befuddled alarm he was wearing so exposedly gradually recast to a warm focus. You placed your palms flat together and positioned the back of a hand against your cheek with a tilt of your head, closing your eyes.

The archer’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, his face taking on a pink hue that you definitely noticed before he ducked his head and knelt to pull the laces on his boots. It was possibly the first time you would attach the word adorable to any description of the man in front of you. Daryl was quick to redirect your regard with a finger toward your own boots on the mattress. Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you hopped off, removed the gun from your waistband, and plopped onto the sleeping bag.

“Yer stayin’?”

You stared, incredulous. Of course you were staying. He was sick, no matter how mild. He had stayed with you while you recovered. Why wouldn’t you return the favor? You nodded and patted the mattress.

There was an obvious uncertainty in his approach, movements hesitant, deliberate, as if you would spook and bolt. You wished you could find it in you to speak, to reassure him you were okay and you wanted to stay.

Your confusion regarding the archer was slowly resolving into a confident trust. You were still plagued with doubt and sometimes overwhelmed with questioning curiosity that would result in a reluctance to be near him. It was that gentle luster that would appear in those pretty eyes, subtle and carefully concealed behind an opacity but easily discernible by someone who had been shown nothing by cold cruelty continually for so long, that would coerce you to stay. There was so much more to Daryl than he allowed the world to see.

He sighed when he finally allowed the side of his face to sink into the pillow, turning his head to cough into the softness. You’d have to wash it once he was feeling better. Quick work was made to settle the blanket over him before his shoulders had stilled from the minor fit, his eyes appearing heavy when he rolled his head back toward you.

“Don’ hafta stay.”

Your smile and gentle tilt of your head said where else would I go? Daryl hummed quietly, eyes slipping shut. He was asleep within moments. Maybe his lack of rest was responsible for the cold. As far as you were concerned, he could sleep until he could physically sleep no longer. Maybe you could persuade others to let him rest.

Your knees pulled to your chest, one arm around them so you could rest your cheek there. The other hand ghosted across the fringe that had fallen over the side of his face. His skin was warm but not enough to frighten you. Maybe you could ask Carol for some tea and broth, if there was any available. You needed to speak with her anyway. Well, not really speak. Regardless, you wanted things to go back to how they were.

Dainty fingers continued to stroke across the archer’s forehead, finding an odd sense of comfort in the ability to touch him without inhibition. His demeanor while in your company was in constant fluctuation but rarely relaxed. He appeared younger in sleep, face slack without creases or pinched skin at the corners of his eyes.

You wanted now more than ever to find your voice. You wanted to tell him how hard you would try to learn quickly. How dependable you would be once you could take care of yourself. How valuable you’d make sure you would become. You wanted to thank him. Others in the prison had done so much for you, but none more than Daryl.

Daryl was the reason you were no longer under Big Jazz’s thumb. He was the reason you were there at the prison at all. He was training you to protect yourself and to protect others. He made you feel safe. Even with the sporadic apprehension, there was the constant blanket of safety when Daryl was near. If he hadn’t looked for you that day not too long ago… You pulled your knees impossibly closer to your body, a dull ache inside at the reminder.

Daryl coughed beside you but didn’t wake, even with your fingers now carding through his hair. In the quietness of the moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate how handsome the archer actually was. You had seen the first day, when he had bargained for you. Rugged, rough around the edges, but handsome. For the first time in a very, very long time, you pondered intimacy that didn’t involve subjugation and pain. You wondered how it would have felt if Daryl had taken your offer that first night. Would he have been gentle? Would he have tasted you?

Those potentially pleasant thoughts couldn’t last once your mind pulled forth the images of him under the spray of water in the showers. Regardless of your name groaned from his lips, you could only see the raised ridges and puckered flesh littered across his back. What had he been through? Had it happened after the fall of the world? Who had hurt him and why? Carol had told you nothing and it was not something you felt you could ever ask him about. It wasn’t your business.

Still… the thought of someone hurting him, it made you feel something you weren’t sure you remembered how to feel.

Anger.

You had spent so much time being conditioned to submit, remain quiet, please, you had forgotten the burn of bitter hostility toward another person. Someone you didn’t even know. You were more than justified in your hatred of the men that had taken you, tortured and defiled and humiliated you. Justified but felt so strange. Finding resentment toward an unknown person for a wrong against a man you barely knew was stranger still.

Yet, that’s exactly what it was. You wouldn’t hesitate a single second to drive your knife home into their skull, living or dead. You’d stab them over and over, one for each raised mark on Daryl’s flesh.

A sound from downstairs startled you from your thoughts, a simple day to day chore of some sort that was not meant to raise alarm. Still, it frightened you. Most things did, but it was getting easier to control your reactions. You realized moments later that your face was damp, the hand hovering just over Daryl’s forehead was trembling. More than that, you suddenly felt drained with an exhaustion that left you dizzy.

Needed nowhere around the prison— your only focus meant to be training with Daryl —you decided it wouldn’t be frowned upon if you were to rest while the archer did. Most knew that wherever he was, he would be instructing you, and would only seek him in the event of an emergency. In that case, the hunter would want to be disturbed.

Sliding down the sleeping bag, you reclined onto your side and faced Daryl, worrying your lips against one another before you reached onto the mattress and placed your palm on this forearm. He didn’t stir but inhaled deeply, seemingly settling deeper into slumber. The contact was comforting and hopefully a level of noninvasive that he wouldn’t mind. Either way, it was enough to allow you to easily follow him into a restful, dreamless sleep.

** What Daryl whispers to reader is an excerpt from “Hope is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson

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