#maybe he was able to get out of his cell or maybe he escaped?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dandylovesturtles · 4 months

Note

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #rise leo #agent bishop #cw: psychological torture #dandy fanfiction #I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting #please don't be mad at Raph himself lol

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

Hello! Do you perhaps have recommendations for Alpha!bucky?

Alpha!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Crave by @harrylovex

you realise that you can’t survive your heat without bucky.

intensional by @noctumbra

alpha!bucky sends you a shirtless pic and then offers to spend your heat with him. feelings ensue.

scent by @noctumbra

“you’re one eager and hungry kitten,” bucky whispered in your ear as he licked over your scent gland, where his bite situated perfectly.

vanilla by @noctumbra

his scent was the other thing that made you go stupid other than his eyes: leather, a bit of vanilla, oranges and wet wood.

wet by @noctumbra

your mating sessions are always intense with bucky.

butterfly by @idy-ll-ique

bucky's going into rut. y/n volunteers to help him. feelings come out.

Let Me Love You by @slothspaghettiwrites

When an Omega is feeling very anxious or nervous their Alpha will hold them close while gently crooning and scenting them until they calm down.

Dating apps are stupid by @buckylattes

You decide to download this dating app, well….Natasha persuades you into it. You make a profile and agree to just have it for a week. If nothing becomes of it then you can delete it. But….you swipe right on this handsome man who’s description shows him out to be a gentleman like you’re looking for. So…what happens when he matches with you???

make you mine by @bonky-n-steeb

Bucky keeps his distance from you thinking you can do better than him. but he loses all his restraints when he sees you with another alpha.

to love is to burn by @bonky-n-steeb

You go into heat at the worst moment in the history of time, maybe ever.

took one hit and I was gone by @bonky-n-steeb

after the rise of hydra, your entire life turned into a living nightmare. you lost everything you held precious, your job, your house, your degree, even hope. but then you’re assigned as a mate to him, your enemy and your only ray of hope, James Buchanan Barnes.

little red riding hood by @bonky-n-steeb

your big bad alpha chases you across the woods.

Break Lights by @boxofbonesfic

his omega by @bucksfucks

bucky helps you through an expected heat.

ever since by @syntheticavenger

Bucky Barnes finds his center in a late night subway ride.

By Chance by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts.

Feral by @bucknastysbabe

And You’re Mine by @winterarmyy

In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.

Protector by @rookthorne

After an eternity of being held against your will, and just as long having been forced to watch your alpha suffer at the hands of the wicked, an opportunity arose. An opportunity so rare, so unique, that it would never be offered again. It was time to escape, and it was time to bathe the halls in their blood – never again would you be held by the bars of a cell, not if he could stop it.

SERIES

Heart and Soul by @all1e23

Alphas only brought trouble. The only thing they are good for is bringing their Omega’s pain and forced submission. They were dangerous, reckless and cruel. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in any of them. She didn’t need an Alpha, and she certainly didn’t believe in that True Mates fairytale. That was just some fabricated fable Alphas made up to trick innocent doe-eyed Omegas. She wasn’t going to fall for that. Not again.No Alpha would ever get her to believe that love truly exists. And then, James Buchanan Barnes walked into her life.

Better Like This by @simsadventures

You are the newest addition to New York’s elite team of Detectives concentrating on domestic violence and rape, which everyone calls the Avengers. You are an Omega, very bubbly and open to everyone around you, and everyone is super sweet to you, except one person- Bucky, your true mate. Will you be able to destroy the walls he has been building around his heart for years, or will he reject you and break your heart forever?

Some Alpha by @ofstarsandvibranium

Bucky is an Alpha, but can never seem to find someone who wants him to be their Alpha. Until he finds you, a Beta, who’s as firey as an Alpha, yet also tender-hearted like an Omega.

Heal by @chucksfavouriteprophet

For months you managed to distance yourself from Bucky Barnes, the alpha you long for. But one night you have no choice but to comfort him, something which brings out emotions in both of you. Except it also brings out emotions in the Winter Solider, which results in a devastating turn of events that neither of you might be able to come back from.

All The King’s Men by @nastybuckybarnes

Your father always said that if it weren’t for your presentation, he’d think you were an Alpha. There’s a reason for that. Growing up in a world where Omegas are treated like garbage, you’ve fought for the respect that you have. Until you’re sold off to an old King desperate for a bride. But you will not lay down and present for your new husband. No, you will fight back.

Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld

Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.

knife play by @helvonasche

They're on the run and Bucky goes into rut.

Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home.One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

Masterlist by @angrythingstarlight

Masterlist by @holylulusworld

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dbf!bucky #king!bucky #bucky barnes royal au #king!bucky x princess!reader #chubby!bucky #soft!bucky

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impyssadobsessions · 1 month

Text

DPXDC PROMPT Vlad Hired the Wrong Guy

Vlad decides that perhaps a ghost can't do the job right anymore -though as much as Vlad would have loved that to be the fitting end for Jack- so he hires an assassin instead to finally put the end to this.

He hires the best. Deathstroke.

Slade however decided to take a liking to the little hero. So when Slade succeeds in his mission (or not if you want to pull some plot shenanigans) he ends up taking away something far more valuable to Vlad.

Danny. Now Imma put my thoughts below but y'all can take this anyway you want >w< <3

I can see Vlad giving Deathstroke weapons to fight/capture Danny too- not kill him though he probably can't even imagine that would be possible- with order to strictly kill Jack and maybe make it look like Phantom did it. (For some extra spice ;3) Phantom was able to fool some of Slade's attempts- but in an all out brawl- Slade wipes the floor with Danny. Danny being slung around like a rag doll, taunted, and mocked. He doesn't stop fighting which just amuses Slade more. Eventually there first fight gets interrupted (cause I imagine it was in the lab) probably be Jack and Maddie coming into the basement- but Deathstroke was able to hit Danny with the belt- forcing him to change before vanishing himself. So Danny gets "grounded" from the lab- even though he tried to play it off as a ghost attack- which made it either worse or better for him. His parents going protective mode- when he's trying to figure out how to save them. Only for Deathstroke to be in his room one day, looking for a "chat". Danny's not having it and tries to fight him only to be captured by one of Vlad's devices. Danny recognizing it. "You-You're working for Vlad!" "Oh ho ho, So you do have some brain cells that isn't used just for puns?" "Why!?" "Money. And a few unique toys." Slade tossing an ecto-ray in his hands. "I'm an assassin. I had assume you didn't need to be detective to figure that one out." Danny struggling against his bindings. Panicking. "You can't- Vlad-..." "Oh I definitely can. He is not the hardest target I had to hit- though I must admit you're an annoying obstacle." "I won't let you!" "I don't think you're in a position to stop me." Slade pressing a button to shock Danny before he a new power to escape. The shock forcing him to revert to his Human form. Imagine Deathstroke taunts Danny more. About what he is- about his parents hatred of ghosts. "Even if you save them- they would hate you. Shame." "You're not the first fruitloop to tell me that." Can see after Danny impresses him one more time- and Slade finds out Vlad is also a half ghost. I can imagine Slade finds a way to force Danny to join him. Whether its by succeeding in killing his dad and manipulating Danny into learning out to take revenge- Or by blackmailing/threatening to follow through but not just kill Jack/ but both his parents- saying he'll teach him how to REALLY fight. Even saying that with his help, he'll make sure Masters won't bother him again. Just all the manipulating. Danny at wits end might take it. Can see Vlad being FURIOUS- but now Deathstroke has weapons to not only HARM/KILL him-he ALSO becomes Danny's mentor. Vlad being the one to contact heroes he knows have history with Deathstroke... framing it as him taking away his godson. Maybe purposely sought out Nightwing. Unknowingly damning himself more as Nightwing will find out Vlad was the cause to all this- AND if Danny gets rescued/gets out of his deal- he'll have hero friends to rely on.

I just love the idea of Slade and Danny dynamic. Especially since Danny not only similar to Dick, his phantom form also looks similar to Respawn. I just think its neat XD And be a damn terrifying threat to Danny.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #slade wilson #deathstoke #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #dc crossover #dp crossover #prompt #vlad masters #nightwing #dcu

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azrielbrainrot · 5 months

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Getting answers out of Norris has proven quite challenging. Your disagreement with Azriel is weighting on you more than you thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5 ○ Part 7

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel angst

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violette-hue · 2 years

Text

Jealous

Summary: Steve really doesn't like the person you're interviewing, so afterwards he fucks you sensleess.

Trigger Warning(s): unprotected sex, cursing, degradation, slight forcing, mentions of breeding kink, not proof read, maybe some typos

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Happy early birthday @ceo-of-daichi ! Possessive Steve is the best Steve~ (P.S. - I drank some tea for the flu in hops that it'll make me feel better, so the last half of this was written with a drowsy mind).

**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**

“You’re interviewing him?”

You turned to look at your boyfriend as you buttoned up your blouse. You cocked a brow at the tone of his implication. You had been getting ready for a meeting for an interview that was to be done in an hour when he stalked into the room.

Ever since Steve had found out you were interviewing Loki for his part in the literal destruction of New York City, he had been making comments here and there on why this was a bad idea. Maybe he was right, but you were just over the moon Loki had even agreed to do an interview with you.

"Babe, I don't really see what's the problem," you responded nonchalantly, taking your time to button up the last few buttons. To show some boobage or to not. You chewed on the inside of your lip in thought.

Steve scoffed. "Are you kidding me? He just tried to take over New York City, causing millions in destruction. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous." You repeated. "Everyone is dangerous, Steve, even The Avengers. Besides, there's going to be, like, a bunch of police guys there guarding him. I actually think they might be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

You watched as the muscles on Steve's arm flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Jesus Christ, Steve--"

"Language--"

"Why don't you just come with me? Brood in the corner like my silent protector."

It was silent for a few heartbeats, and you thought Steve might laugh in your face. Instead, he shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," Steve said, leaning back against the door frame. "Button up your shirt again, I missed the show."

You giggled and rolled your eyes, but obeyed. You unbuttoned your blouse, then buttoned it back up again slower this time, giving a good show.

You walked into the interview room: Loki's cell. He was held behind some type of glass box, the floors some sort of dark, holographic tile. The room was bare, housing only a dozen or so S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Loki had escaped once from a cell similar to this, the chances of him escaping again were likely. These agents wouldn't be able to do much to stop it.

You stepped towards the glass, stopping a foot or two from the cell. Loki was already standing, and as he stalked towards you, he made sure to trail his eyes over your body.

"Did you get all dressed up for me?" Loki drawled, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out the small recorder that was tucked into the waistband of your tight skirt. "I hate to bruise your ego, but it's actually a job requirement," you responded, tripling checking the recorder had enough charge. You had checked the decent sized black rectangle before you left the apartment and then on your way over here. A nervous habit and the constant feeling that something would go wrong.

"An enjoyable job requirement. For me," Loki commented.

You heard a low growl come from Steve and felt the warmth from his chest as he stepped closer to you.

"Oh," Loki hummed. "A displeasure to see you Mr. America." Loki took a few steps closer. "Did they send you in to keep guard, too?"

"No," Steve answered roughly. "And it's Captain."

"Yes, so sorry. Mr. Captain." Loki smiled wide, clearly enjoying making your boyfriend irritable.

You couldn't help but giggle and look down. Loki was charming and funny. Too bad he was an absolute menace to society.

"Mr. Laufeyson--" you started, pressing the record button.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," Loki purred.

"--I want to make you aware that from this point forward, I'll be recording or conversation for the interview you agreed to."

The door that lead to Loki's cell closed with a loud thud and you walked down the quiet hallways in silence. Steve hadn't said much since speaking up before the interview, and you had this gut feeling that something was wrong. You stole a glance toward him and frowned. He was brooding, his brows knitted together with irritation. Even as pissed as he looked, he still looked so beautiful, like he was carved by the hands of a goddess.

"Stop staring at me," Steve said sharply.

You frowned at the roughness in his voice. "You're angry."

"I'm not."

You moved your gaze back to the labyrinth you were walking through, deciding to stay quiet. It was no use trying to talk to Steve when he got in these moods. His walls would come up and anything you'd say would just bounce right back at you. You'd just have to wait until you got home.

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of your shoes echoing off the dark floors. At this point, you weren't even sure where you were going, and you were hoping that Steve would guide you in the right direction. But he stopped, causing you to stop with him.

"What--?"

"I told you, you shouldn't have done that interview with him," Steve hissed.

You turned towards him, your brows furrowed with confusion. You opened you mouth, but closed it as soon as Steve continued.

"The whole time--the whole fucking time--he was doing nothing but flirting with you. Commenting on your clothes, commenting on your hair, commenting on your hips--"

"I do have nice 'birthing hips,'" you interjected playfully.

Steve backed you up against a wall, his hand slamming against the tile above your head. "That's not the fucking point," he growled, his face inches from yours.

"Language," you breathed. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together at the close proximity of your bodies. With just a slight arc of your back, your aching breasts would be flush against his chest. You mentally kicked yourself. Now wasn't the time to have your head in the gutter. Not when Steve was finally addressing the situation at hand.

"You looked like you were enjoying the flirting, too," he spat. "Did you?"

You were at a loss for words. Of course you enjoyed the playful flirting. You enjoyed the senseless comments just to irritate Steve and the below the belt jabs just to get a response out of him. How could you not? Steve was always so tense, so worried about his image in public that it came home with him. He didn't know how to let loose, how to just be Steve Rogers instead of Captain America.

"Yes," you finally answered. "I enjoyed it. A lot."

Steve pushed himself off the wall and ran a hand through his perfectly combed hair. "Fuck--" He took a deep breath and looked at you, then looked away. He seemed to be having an internal battle with himself.

"I liked the way you reacted to it," you continued bashfully, looking down. "Y'know, this--" You quickly gestured with a hand to Steve and stepped away from the wall.

You felt stupid at the disclosure, but you didn't want Steve to think you enjoyed the flirting because of who it was coming from. You liked the way Steve would place a subtle hand on your hip or gently brush back your hair whenever Loki would make a sly remark. Steve wasn't the possessive type, and you enjoyed it. But you also didn't know him being possessive would do these things to you. Your breasts felt heavier, your nipples pebbled, and your core ached with a neediness you had never felt before.

"This..." Steve trailed off. He gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "You're mine."

You blinked, taking a shallow breath. You needed to hear him say that again, needed to hear him say that while he was in you.

Steve shook his head again and backed you up against the wall once more. "You're mine." He buried his head in the crook of your neck and gave you a rough kiss against the sensitive skin. "Mine."

"I'm yours," you whispered, digging your fingers into his shoulders. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck for Steve to explore.

He pushed a knee between your legs and pried them open as much as your skirt would allow. His thick, muscled thigh rest on your lower thighs. If only you could hike this skirt up more, you thought, you'd be able to get some friction on your core. Your hips bucked and you licked your lips.

Were you really going to do this right here in the hallway? Steve tangled a hand in your hair and tugged roughly, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. To hell with this being a public space, you wanted Steve now. Your hands trailed down the blue button up he was wearing down to the gold buckle of his brown leather belt. You groaned in frustration, the belt lodged deep within the buckle.

"Steve Rogers and very horny girlfriend," echoed Fury's voice through the PA system. "Go fuck in your own house before I have you arrested."

Your hand froze, as did the rest of your body. How could you have forgotten you were in a public S.H.I.E.L.D. hallway with dozens of cameras? Nick Fury was practically watching the beginning of a porno. You moved your hands away from Steve's belt buckle and fixed your skirt. He stepped away from you, fixing his shirt. That's when you noticed his smirk. Had he planned all this? Realization hit you like a semi truck. Fury had exposed you all over the speakers. Speakers that sounded everywhere. Everywhere like in Loki's cell. After all the shameless flirting, Steve had proven to Loki that you were his.

You frowned. How could Steve have done this? It wasn't like him at all to dangle you like some prize.

"Real fucking mature, Steven."

"What's wrong, angel? You haven't spoken to me the whole ride home."

"Can it Steven," you snapped, tossing your purse on the kitchen counter. "You used me back there."

Steve scoffed. "Did I make a little scene in that hallway knowing Fury would say something? Maybe, sure. Did I know that Loki would hear? Yes. But, Angel, what was I supposed to do when you liked his flirting?"

You whirled on the ball of your foot toward Steve and pointed a finger at him. "You tricked me! I thought you were finally showing--I don't know, this dominant and possessive side? And I thought it was genuine, not some fucking show!"

Steve gave a heavy sigh. "Angel--"

"Don't fucking 'Angel' me, Steven." You pointed at him again, this time poking his chest. "I wanted to fuck you in that hallway. I was ready to fuck you in that hallway."

Steve grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you closer to him. "I was more than ready to fuck you in that hallway, too," he said, his voice a tad more gentle. "I would have fucked you against the glass of Loki's cell to claim you." A hot shiver ran down your spine and fluttered in your core. "I would have fucked my cum deep inside you until it ran down your legs for everyone to see. Especially him."

Your breath caught in your throat and the anger that was once boiling over in your blood had now dispersed. What replaced it was a deeply rooted lust that burned to your very core. Your blood, your body was on fire and the only way to sate it was to rip the clothes from your body and ride Steve until dawn.

"Do you want that, Angel?" Steve ran a hand down your arm and gently turned you around. His hand ran over your abdomen, his fingers catching in the buttons of your blouse. Your back was now flush against his chest and you felt something hard against your lower back. You breathed a shaky sigh of anticipation as he untucked the shirt from the tight skirt. His fingers worked to free the buttons and you shivered at the tension it caused your body.

You could only nod as the last button was freed, your chest nearly exposed. Your nipples hardened further at the coolness of your shared apartment, your lace bralette doing nothing to keep you warm.

He ran his hands up your bare stomach, then to the bottom of your bralette. His fingers dipped under the black, Lacey fabric and caressed the bottoms of your breasts. Another shaky sigh passed your lips and you rest your head back against shoulder. The feeling of his fingers sliding and squeezing your tender breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers had you squirming for more. Wonton mews fluttered through your lips and your own hands rest over his, begging to handle you more rough.

Warm, wet kisses trailed along your neck to the outmost corner of your jaw. Your skin tingled where his lips met your flesh, tingled and buzzed until you felt as if you were going to explode. Steve had never handled you like this, had never been so passionate with you before.

Sex had always been mostly simple with Steve. Standard missionary was the go-to, with the occasional cowgirl. Everything else was…uncharted territory. Of course, you didn’t mind the simplicity, but this…this was amazing.

You pushed your bottom against his hard bulge and whined softly. “Steve,” you mewled. “I need more—please.”

Steve paused his ministrations on your breasts, his breath shaky against your neck. He slid his hands out of your lacy bralette, pausing at the bottom. In an instant, his fingers were digging into the lace, ripping the fragile fabric in two. Goosebumps pimpled over your breasts as the cold air of your apartment enveloped you skin. You gasped softly, the sudden show of aggression catching you off guard. His hands found place at the hem of your skirt, pushing the tight professional ware down your ass.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Steve asked, his voice an octave lower.

You shakily stepped out of the skirt now pooled at your feet, now only standing in your opened blouse and a simple black thong. You shrugged the blouse to the floor, the remnants of your bralette falling with it. You turned around to face Steve in your nakedness.

“I need you,” you answered timidly, your gaze on the floor. “I need you inside me.” It was weird to tell him what you needed, having never spoken to each other during sex other than the occasional “you like that?” But you felt brave and…sexy. You took the smallest step closer, your fingers teasing the button of his jeans.

Steve let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You managed to undo the button one-handed and drag the zipper of his pants down, your fingers brushing against his clothed cock. You felt him twitch slightly, and you couldn't help the smile that tugged on your lips. He must be so hard, probably harder than he's ever been.

"Do you need me, too?" you asked, your hand fingering the hem of his boxers. Where was this braveness coming from? You slipped your hand inside his underwear, gently grabbing his cock. Your thumb swiped along the head of his penis, smearing his pre-cum.

Steve swallowed hard, and you could see the effort it took for him to bring his hand to caress your cheek. "I want you to suck my cock," Steve grunted.

Your thumb stopped its ministrations and you pulled your hand from his boxers. "No." You stepped back, looking Steve up and down.

Steve cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed. "'No'?" he repeated. He took a step towards you, and you took a step back, your lower back brushing against the kitchen island counter. Steve shook his head and pulled up the shirt he wore. Understandably, you were quite distracted by his chest and the dark hairs leading down to--

You let out a small yelp as Steve grabbed you by the backs of your knees and placed you on the counter. He forced your legs apart, running a finger over the thin g-string covering your heated mess. A finger pushed the thin fabric aside and delved inside your needy cunt. His finger flexed and curled almost instantly, and you let out a loud moan.

"You sound so needy," he growled, pulling his finger out. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, spreading your juices. "Is it me that's got you like this? Or him?" He shook his head, disgust shining through his features. "Slut."

You winced at the word, at the harshness of it. Did he really mean that? "Steve," you started, "of course it's you--" You were cut off with a loud moan pushing through your lips as Steve inserted two fingers inside you. His fingers curled once more, and with it your toes.

"This pussy belongs to me," he pumped his fingers inside you, his other hand pushing down his boxers and pants. "Your pussy belongs to me."

Without a warning, Steve's fingers abandoned your needy core, and in its place was his cock. The thickness stretched you out, and the head of his penis hit against your puffy walls. He pulled out quickly, then bottomed out inside you once more. His hands gripped your hips roughly, his thrusts just as rough. You cried out each time, nearly feeling him in your stomach. It was too much, but not enough at the same time. You had never been fucked like this before, and you relished in it. Relished in the way Steve's balls slapped against you with a wet snap. Relished in the way Steve made a mess of you--your wetness dripping down to the counter.

"I belong to you," you whimpered, back arching. Your hands gripped his thick biceps, your nails digging into his flesh.

Steve's thrusts faltered and he finally looked at you. He pulled you flush to his chest, your bare breasts against him. He gripped your chin and looked deep into your eyes. "Say it again."

You were caught aback, never having seen Steve so vulnerable before. You moved your hands up to rest on his shoulders. "I'm yours, Steve. Body and soul."

It was as if a switch had been pressed in Steve. One minute you were on the counter and the next you were bouncing against the wall. Steve thrust up into you, his cock never leaving the warmth of your pussy. His grip on your hips was ironclad as he fucking you on the wall. You screamed in bliss and in pain. You'd never been explored like this--Steve had never explored you like this. His cock was hitting places you didn't even know existed or felt good. He shifted his position, thrusting into you at a different angle and you saw stars. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as your orgasm washed through your body. Your legs wrapped around his torso, your ankles locking around each other.

Steve fucked you through your orgasm, sweat lining the both of your bodies. Your hands tangled in his hair and tugged lightly, another cry emanating from your lips. You ground your hips down against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. You could feel another orgasm coming, could feel the tension in your body rise. Your fingers tightened on the strands of Steve's hair as another orgasm was nearing its peak. Your back arched as your body trembled with another orgasm, your legs shaking. Steve's thrusts faltered and he groaned loudly. His cock twitched inside you as he pushed himself as deep as he could in your battered cunt. He allowed himself to spill his seed within you, and you both stayed in that position for quite some time. Even when you felt his cock soften within you, you stayed like that, each breathing hard.

"Steve?" you breathed, untangling your fingers from his hair.

"Hmm?" he answered. His head rest on your shoulder, his breath fanning against your neck.

"Did you really mean that? That you'd fuck me in front of Loki?"

Steve lifted his head and looked at you. "Well, maybe not in front of someone--"

"But like," you paused timidly, "in public?"

Steve chuckled. "I wouldn't mind, angel. We can try it one day."

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astarionancuntnin · 3 months

Text

Die For You (Chapter 5)

summary: astarion takes care of you following the events at the ball.

rating: E (smut chapter!)

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, hurt/comfort, soft!ascended astarion, flashbacks of traumatic events (from previous chapter), consent is hot, soft dom!reader, porn with feelings, power play (if you squint), passionate lovemaking, light teasing, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, aftercare. full list on ao3

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But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

The ride back to the palace is dreadfully quiet, with nothing but the sound of the wheels against the ground as the carriage is being moved around. The night is cold, but you still have Astarion’s coat covering your shivering form and his arm wrapped around you protectively, providing you with a reassuring warmth. You’re still shaken by what happened and how helpless you were in that moment. Hells, you were strong – maybe not as strong as Karlach – but you were able to hold your own on the battlefield and yet you got overpowered by this poor excuse of a man? How could this happen? How did you let yourself get in that situation? Despite not wanting to think back on it, you remember what Astarion had told you that first night spent in the cells. Was it true then, that his spying on you assured your security during all those months spent apart? Were you truly as hopeless as he envisioned you? Were you not as strong as you believed yourself to be? And gods damn, how did he manage to capture you so easily back then, and why had you not confronted him about that too?

You’re taken out of your rumination as you reach the crimson palace, and he brings you to your bathroom where he calls for Amedee to prepare a bath for you before dismissing her to take care of you himself. He opens a drawer filled with the best essential oils the market can offer, taking the time to pick the right one. He approaches you and tugs at the lace down your waist, which makes you turn abruptly, still anxious from your earlier confrontation. He softly asks, “May I?” and waits until you give him a few nods, unable yet to speak, to undress you with the utmost care. With your outfit now disposed of on the floor, he takes care of removing your jewellery, placing them aside on the nearest table, before letting your hair cascading down your back. You stand in your most vulnerable state in front of him, with your crossed arms barely covering your chest.

He moves between you and the bath, holding out his hand to help you in, his eyes never leaving yours. “Come now, love.” You stare for a few moments at his inviting hand before taking it to help lower yourself in. The relief is almost instant; all the tension in your muscles leaves as you make contact with the warm bath water and the scent of lotus flower hits you all at once, allowing you to relax. He reaches for a sponge that he dips in the bath before pushing your hair aside and lightly scrubs your back and shoulders. With the silence shared between the two of you, your mind goes back to what happened earlier, replaying the scene in your head over and over again, wondering: what could you have done differently? In another reality, was there any way for you to avoid what had happened? Deep down, wasn’t this your own fault for voicing an opinion at the wrong time? You could’ve avoided that encounter and that dance outside altogether if you hadn’t spoken just at this moment, you could’ve avoided it if you just kept to yourself for once, Gods dammit, why did you always have to open your damned mouth?!

The emotions overflow you and soon, a sob escapes you; you hate how all of it is making you feel powerless, how this single experience is making you question your whole identity. You hate how it happened so fast, how preventable it all was, but most of all, you hate yourself–

“Shhh, it's okay, you’re alright dear.”

You had almost forgotten about Astarion up until now, his voice yet again grounding you back in the present, bringing you back to safety. You sniffle, trying to calm the tears enough to speak up. Your voice is tainted with a roughness from your previous cries, “Why didn’t you kill him?” You don’t really wanna talk about what happened, but it was unlike him to let someone like this go unharmed.

“There is a time and a place for such things; a ball with the most influential figures of Baldur’s Gate was not it.” He says, dipping the sponge back in the water and squeezing it over your shivering shoulders to bring them some warmth. “Then again, it didn’t stop him from attacking you,” he grunts, “but believe me, I won’t let this bastard get away with this. All in due time.” He takes a deep breath, bringing your hair back to soak it with the help of a small bucket. The anger in his voice created a strange contrast with the attentive care he offered you.

“How did you know I was hurt?”

“Your blood, dear. I could recognize it from miles away.” You bring your hand to your neck where the knife has been; it had completely slipped your mind that you had been cut. “The second I smelled it I… I expected the worst. I came as quickly as I could.”

A sudden guilt washes over you, thinking back to the previous month. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this… I’ve been horrible to you ever since you brought me here.”

“A little, but wouldn’t you say I deserve it?” You hum quietly through your tears and a smile appears on his lips for a just moment. “I wasn’t exactly… gentle, in my approach, but I stand by what I said about wanting what’s best for you. I don’t see why I would go back on my word, now of all time.” He continues, now soaping your hair.

“Even after knowing I would leave eventually?”

“My feelings for you remain the same no matter where you go, darling.”

You nod thoughtfully; he might’ve been terrible in his approach, but he’s also shown countless times how much he cared for you, even after many months apart. It makes you think back to the first discussion you had with him, in the dungeons. “I still can’t believe you had me kidnapped.”

“Can you really blame me?”

You turn around abruptly, almost offended by his question, “Yes? What prevented you from just coming up to me to talk, y’know, like a normal person?”

“Well, to be fair, you had been avoiding me like the sun at the reunion, I wasn’t expecting you to willingly talk to me. You have to understand my side darling; it felt necessary.”

You sigh heavily, leaning back against the wall of the bath, “All of this because you couldn’t move on.”

Your tenacity makes him smile again. There you were: the fighter that he loved, the woman who stood up for herself. “I did really try, if you must know. I wanted to respect your choice to part ways, move on and build my empire with someone who matched my ideals!... And never have to see you again.” His extravagant tone suddenly changes to a serious one, “But I couldn’t bring myself to commit to anyone else. Every time I tried, I would look at them and I could only see… you. You were never afraid to stand up to me, unlike the others.” He chuckles, “You still do.”

You stay silent, taking in his confession, as he washes out your hair before standing up with a clean towel.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”

You look at him with tired eyes before raising yourself from the water and linking your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You find yourself observing his face for any sign of malice, anything that would tell you that his intentions weren’t pure, and you can’t find any. You’re not sure if it reassures you or terrifies you the most; to know he has been truthful all along and that you outright refused to see it. He lays you down on your bed and moves away to search your wardrobe, looking to find you clothes for the night. As he makes his way towards you with a dark blue satin night robe, you find your voice again.

“I know you said all those things, but you could have anyone else so easily… Someone who doesn’t argue with you constantly…”

He lays the dress at your feet and sits on the edge of the bed. “My sweet, if I wanted someone who blindly agrees to everything I say, I could have anyone. Turn another spawn and choose them as my obedient little puppet. I could have a thousand like them. You, on the other hand, challenge me everyday. No one could ever come close to you, my love.” He sees your eyes looking away, and he reaches for your cheek, stroking it softly. “When I saw you at the reunion for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I wanted nothing but to have you back. I crave you like I crave the sun’s embrace, Gods, I was alive again after hundreds of years and yet, I’ve never felt more alive than by your side.” He drops his hand to take yours, holding it firmly, and you look back at him. “If I could have anyone, I would still want you and only you. If you just let me take care of you, we could be so good together.” His voice is low and deep, it resonates through you, draws you to him. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Your gaze falls down to his hand with yours, avoiding his eyes, and you groan, those conflicting feelings frustrating you. “I don’t know what I want, alright? I–” You trail off, your words escaping you. “When I left you, it’s because I felt you had changed. I thought I had lost you to that ritual, that the man I loved was gone, but now…” Your eyes find his again, and he looks at you with a kindness you missed. When you speak again, your voice is but a whisper. “I don’t know anymore… I spent so long regretting helping you through the rite of ascension, I really thought it had turned you into a monster, I–” You close your eyes and a silent tear streaks down your cheek. “I thought I had lost you.”

He reaches out to wipe it away and you open your eyes to look back at him. “Oh darling, I never left. It was always me, simply better.” His voice is the softest you've ever heard. If you weren’t looking at him when he spoke, you wouldn’t believe the words came from him. “What I did, I did for us. With my powers, I can assure both of us security, forever, and that’s all thanks to you.” He pauses, drawing you closer to him. “You gave me everything. I will spend every day of my eternal life thanking you for it, in every imaginable way. Whatever your heart desires will be yours.”

You hold his stare as much as you can through your stressful blinking. He’s gotten incredibly close to you and you feel your chest rise higher as your breathing quickens, the tension between you two becoming unbearable.

You look into his eyes, and you see it then: there he is, your Astarion. The same vulnerable pale elf you had ventured and shared nights with all these months ago. Under these layers of newly acquired powers was hiding the man you fell in love with, and tonight you had found him, at long last. You let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in and your eyes quickly dart to his mouth, lips still parted from speaking up, and in an instant, your lips meet in a passionate and rough embrace. All the tension, the longing and lusting leaves your chest, pouring into this kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair, pulling him in as he pushes you down against your bed, his hands landing next to your head.

You’re gonna regret that.

Panic settles back into you, the memories flashing back into your mind and you push Astarion away, breaking the kiss suddenly as your breathing quickens and your eyes get lost elsewhere. You’re back in the garden, with the nobleman from the party.

“Darling?”

His weight upon you, the dagger against your throat, his hand sliding up your thighs.

“Love, look at me,” he tilts your head upwards, and you snap out of the flashback, finally back to Astarion. “Hey, it’s me. You’re here. You’re safe.”

You sigh heavily, your breathing coming back to you gradually. The emotions within you are overwhelming; you’re terrified and enraged, yet, with Astarion you’re reassured, you’re content, you’re… in love.

Look at how much he cares for you, you think to yourself. He wishes for nothing but your wellbeing. He wants to be yours, and only wishes for you to be his. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, worried by your lack of words. “Just say the word and we can end it there.”

You blink quickly, briefly not trusting your vision following the last seconds that happened and your hands sneak their way over his face, caressing his cheeks. The softness of his skin, the surprising warmth emanating from him…

You shake your head; you need this. You need him. “Stay with me…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to be alone… please.”

His hand covers yours, and when you look in his eyes, you see what he's trying to say with unspoken words: anything for you, you have nothing to fear with me, I've got you my love.

As the tears overflow you, you bring him back into you, crashing your lips together. Your kiss is messy, with your tongues dancing with each other, both of you wanting more of the other, your teeth biting and pulling, with his fangs grazing your lips everlightly, drawing out the slightest drops of blood just to have a taste. He groans in your mouth at the taste of your crimson and his hips grind against your leg, pressing his growing erection on you as his carnal lust awakens.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he says, with a ragged breath.

You feel as if you were possessed, your arms flying to the helm of his shirt, pulling to free him from this cage that his clothes provided, yearning for his touch that you couldn’t wait any longer to feel. Without breaking contact, he quickly removes the rest of his own clothes and discards the wet towel you were previously wrapped in, revealing your delicate skin underneath. The second both of your clothings are off, you push Astarion down on the bed, climbing over him and pinning him down by his wrists.

“There you are, my little spitfire,” he purrs.

When you see a grin forming over his lips, you can’t help the smile forming on your own lips. You pause to admire him, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the lust in his eyes; you missed this, missed him.

You close the gap between your bodies, laying your forehead against his, and say your next words through a ragged breath, “You have no idea how much I want to ravish you.”

“Take what you need, darling. I want you to have control, to feel like you’re in charge of your own body again. I might not have been able to stop what happened tonight, but I want to be the one who empowers you once again. I want to help you like nobody could for me. Tonight, your word is my command; I am yours.”

To have him at your fingertips, following your every word… His words stir something within you, to see how utterly devoted he is to you makes you want to truly make him yours. You can barely believe the opportunity he’s giving you, given the last time you spoke about the subject was after your visit at moonrise towers. You never had the chance to have another talk about his boundaries, but that was also before he became the vampire ascendant. You take his hands to guide them over your thighs, intending on taking up on his offer, “Touch me.”

“How,” his hands remain still on your thighs. “Don’t be shy now, little love. Tell me exactly what you want.”

You lean over him again, your lips barely apart, and you whisper your next command, “I want your hands to caress my skin.”

His hands start moving over your strong thighs, touching every inch there is to discover.

“Guide me,” he whispers. “I’ll only do what you instruct me to do.”

“Move over to my waist.”

His hands travel higher, sneaking over your hips ever so slightly.

“Where to next?” He hums.

“Up and down my back…” He reaches for the highest point of your back, down to the frontier of your ass, only grazing your cheeks.

“I want to feel your nails on my skin.”

His grip on you changes, with his nails now softly scratching over your skin, “Like this?”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation. “Mh, harder.” His nails sink into you and you throw your head back as your back arches. “Ah– Just like this…”

Your breasts are now hovering near his face and with each breath you take, they draw closer to his mouth. He could easily cave into his desires and devour you right then and there, but as promised, he waits until you give him his next instruction. Luckily for him, you needed this as much as he did, and neither of you were patient people.

“Now your mouth… over my breast,” you reach out to grab onto his hand scratching your back to put it over your boob. “And squeeze this one.”

As he lifts himself up, his mouth latches on your nipple that he relentlessly sucks on, while his hand massages the one you had guided him to. His fangs lightly scrape over the soft skin of your breast and you softly cry out before giving him your next command.

“Lick your way to my neck,” your voice is but a whisper by now.

Slowly, his mouth leaves your boob and he leaves a faint trail of saliva over your chest as he makes his way to your precious neck. Your hips rock back and forth, only slightly, relishing in the delicious friction you get from his length between your wet folds. Astarion wasn’t going to complain, but he felt like you could take it further, should you desire it.

“If you want something else, you can take it,” he purrs against your neck. “What's mine is yours.”

The temptation to simply take him in was too good to resist, but it’s not something you would allow yourself just yet. The friction it provided over your clit was almost better than having him inside you, and his reaction was even better. Teasing him brought you more satisfaction than you expected and you intended on drawing it out as long as you could. He growled against your neck, only nibbling on your skin there and you could feel how his hips jerked in reaction to your teasing. With your next order on the tip of your tongue, you’re taken aback from the realisation that you wanted this from him. There’s a part of you that’s terrified of what might come out of this, but the rest of your being desires nothing more.

“Bite me.”

He leaves your neck to look into your eyes, not believing the words you had just said. He needed you to say it again, to confirm he didn’t imagine it out of pure madness. That you, the woman he desired most, desired him just as much; just like you used to. Then, when you see the way he looks at you with devilish want, you allow yourself to take what you’ve been wanting for days. You lift yourself up and you position him over your entrance before slamming your hips down, crying out as you take him fully in one thrust. He groans loudly when he enters you, throwing his head back at the feeling and you take this chance to grab his luscious hair and pull back, hard. When he looks back at you, his eyes have gone dark with lust and the thread of control holding him back has gone so thin that it threatens to break at any moment. You repeat your command between two breaths, reasserting your dominance over him.

“Bite… me.”

You guide him towards the spot in your neck where you missed him most before releasing your grip on him. He kisses the spot in the crook of your neck that he knew all too well one last time, finding your pulse and sinking his fangs into your soft skin. As he drinks you in, your mind blanks out, completely lost in the euphoria his bites provided you, and all of a sudden, you’re back at your days spent camping, when this was moreso about necessity, when you gave yourself to him, when you would’ve given him everything. He’s still drinking when the next words slip past your lips between two breaths, completely unaware of the effect they would have.

“Tell me… tell me you love me.”

His teeth leave your skin and he pulls back to look at you, as if he was looking for something you weren’t saying out loud, and if he wasn’t looking at you then, he wouldn’t believe what you had asked of him. Nevertheless, he complies; as he is yours forever more, and you were his for tonight.

“I love you.”

Your half lidded eyes are completely lost in the sight of him with your blood on his mouth, and before you can think about it, your lips are on his, tasting him, tasting yourself, taking everything he has to offer, but also offering yourself to him. You didn’t want to let go, to break the proximity you had longed to share for so long, but the lack of air forces you to pull away. When he looks at you again, you’re stained from your blood, and two fine lines drop from where he bit you.

“I'll take down the moon and stars for you.”

He grabs onto your hips as he begins to thrust upwards, and you let him, too dizzy to think of taking back that control or giving him a new command. He could have the reigns now, you had proved to yourself that you were whole, and this experience brought you even closer to him, the closest you had ever been.

“I'll love you until the world burns down.”

Closer than this and your bodies would fuse together, your minds would meld as one, losing yourself into the other. Ultimately, love, no matter how twisted it had become, had brought you back together against all odds.

“I would burn it down for you if you just asked.”

And you loved him, gods, you hated how much you loved him despite all he had done, despite capturing you to bring you here. You promise yourself that you will bring it up again, make him right his wrongs, force him to–

“I love you.”

One of his hands finds its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer to kiss your skin between each declaration, and it pushes aside any thoughts you previously had. He repeats himself with a ragged breath, and each time he tells you he loves you, it's with more and more conviction. His pace gets more frantic as he lets himself come undone for you.

“Love… I’m close…” He says, panting.

You pull him into another kiss, knowing you’re nearing the edge of ecstasy too and you’re reaching for any more contact you could have. You couldn’t care for words anymore, but you knew what you wanted, and you would take it, regardless of what he had done in the past. For tonight, you forgave him, and you accepted this form of apology from him.

“Fuck, ah–”

Feeling him shooting his hot seed inside of you is your unbecoming. With a few more strokes, along with his cock twitching inside of you, you finally go over the edge. As the world becomes silent, you scream in pleasure, finally letting go of all those feelings you had bottled up over the last days. The build up in your belly reaches your heart, and there’s something of an explosion in your chest, fireworks in your head, and you see stars for a mere moment. When you come down from your high, you let yourself fall over him, completely spent, with your head hiding in the crook of his neck.

You stay like this for a while, with him still inside you and you resting on top of him, allowing yourself to catch your breath, and he holds you close as if you were but a fleeting image that was going to vanish, but by now, you had no intention of leaving.

The way he strokes your hair aside so casually makes you yearn for more of it. It feels so intimate, the tenderness of it all making you feel as if you had never been apart, not for an instant.

“So much for getting you clean earlier, mh?” You laugh quietly in the crook of his neck; had you known the night was going to take such a turn, maybe you would’ve waited before taking that bath. “Now, let me take care of you, the way you deserve it.”

You groan, too tired to care about getting clean, and when he sees that you had no intention of getting up, he lifts you up himself to carry you to your bath. He calls on Amedee once again to get new warm water, and this time he hops in the bath with you to clean you up. You hum, content with the way he cared for you so dearly, and once you’re both clean, he takes you out of your bath to dry you up. He carries you back to bed where he tucks you in and the moment he turns to leave you stop him.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Eager for more, are we?”

“My word is your command – remember? Stay.”

Your words are direct, but your voice is soft and your eyes are almost pleading with him; he can’t find it in himself to refuse you. As he joins you in bed, you hold him close, resting your head over his chest once again, and you let yourself be lulled to sleep by the unfamiliar sound of his calm heartbeat, along with the crackling of the fireplace.

Can I move you? Can I soothe your fear?

Could you trust love, if I prove it's there?

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera

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basicinstnct · 11 months

Text

spoonfed / suguru geto

word count: 1,181

tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)

a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:

summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.

It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.

You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.

“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”

That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.

Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again.

“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.

“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.

There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.

“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.

“Maybe the hospital–“

“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”

He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.

He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance.

The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move.

He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.

Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.

“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.

“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.

“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”

“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.

“In fact, I think I should cool you down.”

He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there.

His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.

“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.”

“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.

You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.

#my writing #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #if you saw this before no you didn’t!#yandere suguru #yandere geto #yandere cw

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ninihousebears3000 · 2 months

Text

HR Department! reader X Alucard

A goodnight kiss.

Pulling an all-nighter causes you to hear strange things.

CW: No warnings!

It's quite late.

You had to agree with the voice in your head. Pulling overtime was necessary considering how your workload suddenly increased. Now you're bookkeeper another responsibility on your plate. Computerizing this ancient system that the organization was barely running on was your mission. But efficiency is your reputation and you wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that things were left in limbo.

Rest, work will be here tomorrow but you won't be here much longer if you keep going on like this.

Morbid but true. Maybe some coffee will give you clarity? After all your computer screen began looking less and less clear. You were certain it was working just fine a moment ago. Standing up you grab your favorite mug off your desk heading to your in-office coffee machine. Walter had refused to use k-cups opting to brew a fresh pot for you every day. But he would cut you off after two cups so for your third and fourth cups you used your K-cups from home.

You placed your mug on the machine instinctively reaching for the box of k-cups. Only to be met with empty space. "What the hell?" You had a full box where did it go? Checking in the cabinets, your bag, and drawers, not a single K-cup could be found. Even your coat pocket didn't have an emergency K-cup. "Perhaps there's some upstairs?" Thinking aloud was your tendency nowadays since this was your own private office. Although, a few more employees and an assistant would be very helpful. Being the head of the human resources department doesn't mean much if you're the only employee.

You thought to yourself as you left your office walking through the basement.

"An office near civilization would be nice."

You retorted walking past the many cells in the dungeon. You know Seras' room is near here. "I wonder what she's up to?" You appreciate her company she seems chipper than most considering her situation. At times you can tell she just wants another person to talk to. It does pain you that she pops in at the busiest of times. It's only been a few weeks since the Police Girl ‘joined’. You did try advocating for her to have a change of uniform and to be at least called by her real name. Those were still ongoing battles.

Then there was Alucard. You're still trying to get a one-on-one meeting about his workplace misconduct. It's difficult to arrange anything with him he has no email! An audible groaning sigh escaped you.

Your thoughts kept you entertained as you finally made it to the kitchen. Normally, there would be servants and other staff members but the only remaining people here were the residents and the perimeter guards. Of course, the ones in the surveillance room which felt weird to think about them watching you right now.

Of course, there was no leftover coffee left so you were having to pull off your lazy slacks and brew some yourself.

Coffee at this hour? Your sleep will surely be ruined. The sun rises in only a few hours. How about lemon ginger tea?

You took your mug and started rinsing out the old coffee stains. Possibly something else for a change?

When you were filling up your mug with cold water to get the last of the stains out. You jolted the mug towards your face splashing your face with cold water. The sensation still shocked you but woke you up for certain.

"My voice is deep but why is my thought voice that deep?" Was delirium setting in? Or was someone truly talking to you? You can see why Sir Penwood said this place can be maddening. Instead of coffee or tea, you opted for ice-cold orange juice and a leftover banana nut muffin. The sugar should help until you find a stopping point. Plus the leftover wetness on your shirt can help keep you awake. Seems like you would be spending the night Walter gave you a ride since your car was practically living in the shop at this point.

Almost three in the morning the voice in your head was right about it being very late. By the time you returned, you finished the muffin and chugged the juice as soon as you sat down. Just one more paragraph to type and you can call it a night.

You've had worse nights from your undergrad years!

Cracking your knuckles your nimble fingers went back to work.

Sugar can't stop sleep deprivation.

There it was again! You can ignore it! Fight on you're the head of the human resources department!

What's the harm?

Just close your eyes for a few minutes.

You never noticed how soothing the baritone voice was until now. An eye break couldn't hurt, right?

That's right little human. Just close those pretty eyes.

The computer screen was looking warped in ways you've never seen a screen do before. Your lids were heavier and you were leaning on your arms at this point.

"But I am not finished yet." Trying to fight this heavy exhaustion was increasingly difficult. Before you knew it your head was using your arms as a pillow and the desk was a bed.

Everything will be fine little human.

"I am six feet." Your eyes closed for the final time. The heat from the cardigan now placed on your shoulders reminded you of the blanket on your soft bed.

Shh, sleep little human.

Wait, your cardigan was on the back of your chair!

Now be a good little human and stay asleep.

Hot breath grazed your exposed neck along with a hissing noise. You reached for the pistol underneath your desk and fired a shot at the source of this strange body heat. To your surprise you found Hellsing's trump card sitting on the ground in the corner of your office. Thankfully, Walter gave you a pistol strangely you asked for a silencer.

"ALUCARD! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WORKPLACE MISCONDUCT VIOLATIONS YOU STACKED UP!" Panting and filled with rage you kept your gun aimed at him.

"You know those blessed bullets do hurt." He was bleeding out of his left shoulder. Despite that, his face held an awful grin.

"YOU WERE TRYING TO DRINK MY BLOOD! AND YOU HAVE BEEN IN MY HEAD!" You never thought your first meeting with Alucard was going to be him nearly drinking your blood.

"Shh, you're louder than Police Girl." His nonchalant attitude was getting on your nerves. "Consider it a goodnight kiss little human." Alucard stood to his full height seeing how he still regarded you as little.

"We need to address some misconduct violations." Was this going to be your only chance to talk to him?

"I don't think your department applies to me." He began to walk past you. "Now if you'll excuse me the sun will be rising soon." But your reflexes were being kind to you. Opening your drawer you pulled out a thick binder and flipped to the middle of it pointing at a document.

"You and Seras Victoria fall into this category of employee." He leaned down to read it. His crimson eyes bounced up to yours and then to the book again. "Did you just call me a police dog?" A hint of irritation was in his tone.

"Therefore you must follow the same guidelines as every employee here." You were the head of the human resources department you weren't going to let this misconduct run rampant anymore!

"Please have a seat Alucard." Alucard narrowed his eyes at you and then smirked. "Alright then HR." He smirked while sitting down crossing his legs in the seat in front of your desk. While you grabbed your chair that was pushed across the room after his initial introduction.

You weren’t expecting him to give in judging from what Seras and Walter had told you. But you can’t rest knowing you had the chance.

"Now shall we begin with boundaries."

#this was supposed to be short but I couldn't help it #hr department! reader x hellsing #yea it's 2 am and I decided to finish this and not sleep #i've been thinking about this for a while #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing oc #hellsing alucard x reader #hr department! reader x Alucard hellsing #hellsing #yeah I did use that last scene in hell ain't as inspo

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moon1833 · 5 months

Text

Arrogance

Warning: smut, female reader, enemies to friends to lovers kinda, hate-fucking, semi-public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, Tsukishima is a bottom and I will die on this hill, female reader, College!Tsukishima

He was mean. Agonizingly rude and arrogant. And to you, you saw that as a competition. You wouldn't call yourself mean, but you defiantly didn't let any of his bullshit slide. You made that abundantly clear at your first meeting. You had know of the blonde boy in your class since you started Karasuno College, but luckily avoided him up until the end of your first year.

"Watch where you're going, shorty. Some of the grownups need to get through." He smirked, barely looking at you as he knocked into you.

He half expected to hear a remark from your pretty mouth, or maybe you'd just roll your eyes and walk away. What he didn't expect, was for you to grab his bicep and shove him into the wall with most of your strength. You weren't trying to hurt him, but you knew it would take a lot to move the third year middle blocker. You were in a bitter mood.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you." You watch him stumble back slightly, eyes wide with shock. His lips part to speak, but you don't wait for him to respond, turning towards your next class.

Tsukishima had never been spoken to like that by a complete stranger. He supposed it was warranted, he wasn't oblivious to how rude he was to others. He just didn't think he'd be able to invoke that reaction from you of all people.

From then on, he made sure to glare at you whenever he got the chance, which happened to be often since you were now in the same class. Tsukishima made it his mission to pester you, and every single time, you put him in his place.

It started an odd relationship between the two of you. Neither of you would call each other friends, but you'd both be lying if you said you didn't seek out the other one, even if it was just to argue.

You sat in class one morning, the seat of the desk uncomfortable as you watched the teacher hand out the graded exams from last week. You didn't need to turn your head to see Tsukishima's eyes narrowed onto you, bouncing his leg with anticipation.

Your teacher places the exam face down on your desk, and you flip it over swiftly, trying not to look too eager. You smirk as your eyes trail to the boy in the row next to you, turning the paper to him so he could read the 100 marked proudly in the right corner of the paper.

You watch his gaze darken, scowling as he turns away from you. You fake coo at his actions, watching his left hand grip the desk until his knuckles turned white.

The teacher handed back Tsukishima's exam last, and you tried to peer at his score to no avail. The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you found yourself chasing after the blonde, curious to see just how many points you beat him by.

"Don't get shy on me now." You say cockily, standing next to his desk and peering down on him.

He glares back up at you, a tinge of embarrassment obvious due to his reddening ears. Even if this was the only expression you ever saw him give you, it satisfied a part of you.

Neither of you notice the rest of the class leave, as well as the teacher.

"How'd you manage cheat this time?" Tsukishima asks, but even he knows it's a weak cover-up.

"Aw, that was almost a retort." You smile.

"Being around idiots lowers my brain cells." He rolls his eyes, trying to slide his exam into his backpack without you seeing the score.

Quickly, you snatch the paper from him, turning around so he can't grab it. Tsukishima lunges, reaching around you, caging you with his arms and pressing your hips against the side of the desk.

You try to relish in the fact that he got a 96, but you can't when he's pressed against you so closely you can feel his breath on your neck.

Caught by surprise, a small sound escapes from your lips, suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Tsukishima stops, unsure if he really just heard the small moan you made or if he was starting to confuse his daydreams with real life. But, one of his hands holding yours behind your back as the other grasped the paper on the desk in front of you was very, very real.

"Oh?" Tsukishima questions, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

When you don't make any efforts to move away, Tsukishima peers his head down by your ear, his lips grazing your skin as he whispers.

"Don't tell me you like this, y/n."

You snap back, pushing him off of you and turning around. You put your hands on his chest, shoving him back while keeping your fists tight around the material of his shirt.

His glasses are crooked slightly, and he stares at you with a hunger in his eyes. And then it hits you.

"Don't tell me you like it when I put you in your place, Tsukishima." Your hands reach higher, now gripping his collar.

You watch the blush creep up Tsukishima's neck, grinning. You're barely inches away, and he takes a step back in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs hit the front of a chair and you're climbing onto his lap before he's even fully sat down.

His hands fly to your waist instantly, steadying you on his thighs. You take his glasses off before trailing your fingers over the curve of his lips, leaning in slowly.

Your lips just graze his, but Tsukishima grasps the back of your head, greedily kissing you. You respond by kissing him back harder, parting your lips and pressing your body even further into him.

You don't miss how he lets out the smallest of whimpers at you grounding your hips against him, feeling him under you. You grin, grinding back and forth to pull more noises from him.

"I'm going to lose control if you keep doing that." Tsukishima admits, sounding short of breath.

"You haven't had an ounce of control since you walked into this classroom." You sneer, kissing down his jaw roughly. "You can stop pretending to fight me."

Tsukishima tilts his head back, hitting the wall softly as he started breathing deeply, feeling as though he could cum from your words alone. It was embarrassing the effect you had on him.

You reach a certain spot on his neck, causing Tsukishima to jerk his. hips up slightly as he sighs.

You wanted to toy with him for as long as you could, but you knew you had limited time. Hurriedly, you tugged at his belt, palming at his dick through his pants.

Tsukishima adjusted himself, unzipping his pants and trailing a hand up your thigh. You lifted your hips up, giving him room as you continued to leave hickies down his collar bone.

His hand was now under your skirt, delicately gripping your waist. The other was rubbing his tip, watching you eye his cock. Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side, sinking down on him.

You knew it was going to hurt with no prep and his size, but you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. You eased down on him, bitting your lip as you bottomed out. Tsukishima buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a moan.

You wrapped your fingers around his hair, tugging him back and forcing him to look at you. Your hand trailed to his throat, tightening slightly but not choking him.

"Be quiet." You whisper, looking at him sharply. Tsukishima's looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his mouth parted. He's on the verge of bliss and he's not hiding it anymore.

After sinking down fully, you crossed your arms, shifting your hips to get used to the feeling. He bucks his hips up, desperate for more.

"Pathetic." You say, moving your hips up and down slowly. His long fingers are digging into your hips, and his eyes are pleading with you.

"If you want something you're going to need to ask for it." You tease.

"Please," Tsukishima has lost all dignity, feeling so pussydrunk he thinks he'd kill to be inside you for a minute more. "need you to use me."

You grab his jaw, peppering kisses on his cheek as you speed your hips up, whispering encouragement in his ear.

Tsukishima let all control slip away from him as his orgasm built, holding you closer by the small of your back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you let him attempt to muffle his sounds in the crook of your neck.

He was trying his best to hold off his orgasm, but between your tits nearly bouncing out of your shirt and the degrading words slipping from your kiss-bitten mouth, he didn't last very long.

A few minutes later you were viciously riding out his orgasm, but pink in the face and suddenly hit with the realization of what you just did.

Panic hit you momentarily, until Tsukishima kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “I’m never going to win an argument against you ever again.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say. “Unless you want to end up like this again.”

“I wasn’t going to stop either way, but I appreciate the encouragement.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #smut #jjk smut #tsukishima fluff

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

Tears of an Angel

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you.

♡ Warnings: hydra, bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, hints to sexual assault/abuse, torture, literally this is so sad i’m sorry

main masterlist ✧ part two

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

You watched the man shout with anger, dripping into fear— lastly he cried of exhaustion. You watched him shuffle throughout his little room, begging with no one in particular— to set him free. The decent sized hole in the wall separating you two— gave you a front row seat to the man’s episode. The outbursts shouldn’t of interested you, but the glimmer of silver from his arm had caught your attention. This man being different than all the others you’d seen.

He did this frequently, every episode shorter than the last. His voice would grow more hoarse, his shuffling would quiet down, his energy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Adrenaline would do nothing for him now.

It had been almost a full month of examining the man from your spot in your own cell. Never did you find energy in yourself to say something— comfort him. What was the point, right?

Although the more time that passed, the harder it was to not say something. The man’s faith was thinning right before your eyes. You felt awful for this man’s suffering, all which had been seen by you. You thought you could sit aside, watch him give up— then he’d leave. It’s what you did with all the others, all of them hurting as bad as the last. But this man was a fighter, he was determined— fighting towards something. Maybe someone.

It was only making things worse, the ending would hurt greater than all the others. He was different, he was strong. Knowing that, you knew they would never let him leave. He was their property now.

That’s just how things worked here. Your strength was taken advantage of.

Today he was staring mindlessly at the wall, his eyes dull and lifeless. You didn’t know why you wanted to say something suddenly, but the urge to ask if he was okay— burned at the front of your mind. It was a dumb question— of course he wasn’t.

His hair was longer, having grown out in his time trapped here.

You were about to say something, beginning to clear your throat when your cell door was open suddenly. You were shocked, the gist unexpected— you were starting to think you were forgotten in here. No one having checked your room for quite some time.

But as the guards hoisted you up— easily since you had no fight left in you. They guided you out of the room, down the hall to an eerily familiar room. One that had your stomach knotting up, dreading the pain you were about to receive.

You were so caught up in the moment, you had missed the man’s head glance over to you— through the hole in the wall.

The door swung open, the guards carelessly tossing you inside— causing you to land hard on your hands and knees.

You let out a cry— half pain, half frustration. You were unsure how you we able to endure such amounts of pain. You begged for the darkness to consume you. Letting you limbs fill with ice, your whole body sinking into a cold deep oblivion. An escape.

But it was over— for now.

You pathetically crawled to your spot against the wall, the movement causing pain to shoot up through your body.

You stared blankly at the wall, wishing you could forget the horrid events that had just happened.

Today was bad. Bad not coming close to describing the true agony your endured, the torture that you went through the felt like forever.

Your lower region throbbed painfully, and you wished that you could be numb. Wishing so desperately to not feel anything.

You felt violated— the urge to rip off your own skin. The thought of your own flesh had you revolted, wanting to throw up. You didn’t want to feel your own skin, you couldn’t look at it— you wanted it to all stop. You stayed eerily still, fearing that your deep breaths— the expanding of your chest would cause you pain.

“Hey.” A soft horse voice called.

You sluggishly moved your head towards the voice, your eyes meeting with concerned blue ones.

You stayed silent— furrowing your brows like you wanted to say something, but found your lips sealed. Truthfully, you were afraid to speak. You feared the guards would hear and punish you some more— you just couldn’t deal with even the thought.

“Are you okay?” He tried again.

You scoffed, wanting to bitterly laugh at his question— but ended up crying instead. Your body shook painfully, your hands clutching your lower abdomen. You quietly sobbed, your tears soaking your thighs as you hunched pitifully.

Your mind was chaos, you felt overwhelmed. Your body was alert, ready for the guards to enter at any moment— while your mind was exhausted.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay— I’m here.” He whispered through the gap.

You slowed your cries, the comfort his words brought you felt foreign. He didn’t even know you, you didn’t even know him— yet he was trying to comfort you. Maybe it was because you were in such a vile place, that had you grabbing a hold of the sliver of comfort.

You hugged yourself, glancing back up to his eyes now— surprised to find them filled with worry. His gaze scanning over your form, as if he was searching for the reason of you distress.

“I’m Bucky.” He introduced, now sitting against the wall, keeping his eyes trained on you.

You could finally put a name to the face.

You swallowed, trying to remind yourself that a name didn’t mean anything. You could know someone’s name and not be close with them, the walls could still stay up. Right?

“(Y/n).” You told him, your voice so hoarse— a sound barely came out. Your screams from the torture shredding your vocal cords.

Bucky smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s a pretty name.” He thought out loud, and if you had any room for butterflies— you would’ve been blushing from nerves. All your body could manage was fear— pain.

Bucky watched as your body shook with a particular painful looking wave. His eyes widening in concern when your hands clutched your lower abdomen. Your face scrunched up painfully, squeezing your eyes shut— wishing for this sensation to pass.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay— I know it hurts now but just keep breathing okay? You can—” He paused, slipping his right hand through the gap in the wall. “You can hold my hand if you wa— need to.”

You slowly unscrunched your face, taking deep breaths like he had said— the fresh cool air soothing your lungs. Although it caused slight movement, the deep breaths were calming you.

You stared at his hand— hesitant. A part of you knew you shouldn’t— the fact was you shouldn’t even be talking to him. But the other part of you was desperate for human touch. It had been years since you last felt someone— someone’s gentle touch.

Your hunger won, that’s how you found yourself slowly scooting from your spot on the wall, towards the gap— towards his hand. The movement causes the throbbing to pick back up, a whimper of pain escape. You were close enough and grabbed onto his hand tight, squeezing it in hopes he could make the pain go away.

“I’ve got you— just keep breathing. I’m right here.” He cooed, his voice smooth and calming.

You still didn’t know why he was being so kind, but you decided not to question it any longer. You were grateful, to find comfort in such a place.

You quietly sobbed, holding onto his hand— his thumb occasionally rubbing back and fourth on the back of your hand.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I just know we will.” He whispered, and you had a feeling he was trying to convince himself.

You noticed he was peppier today, having more fight in his voice. You weren’t sure if he was only faking it for you, either way— you appreciated the motivation. He was relaxing to be around, specifically today. You wouldn’t question the leave you could find in a place like this. Hell.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You whimpered, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. Your lower abdomen starting to burn uncomfortably.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze, rubbing his thumb up and down once more.

“No need. We’ve got each other now— we will be okay.”

Oh how desperately you wanted to believe his words. Well— you did.

Months had passed, you both clung onto each other everyday— that was until he was taken one day and he never returned. You knew it was completely out of his control— but you felt hurt. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling betrayed.

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

He had held your hand, talked you through some bad moments— he showed you that kindness still existed.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

So for now, you’d sit against the grimy wall— counting down the days until someone knew took up the other cell. Then the cycle would repeat and you’d wish for the darkness to consume you.

If you want to be added

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @goldylions

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #sebastian stan #reader insert #buckybarnes #heavy angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier fanfiction

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starlessnightsblog · 8 months

Text

daryl x reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

MDNI 18+ | wordcount: 2.8k | smutt ⭑ fluff

first night alone after being on the road for months.

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While everyone claimed cell blocks, Maggie and Glenn claimed one of the guard towers, so it only felt right Daryl and I claimed the other. We haven't had much privacy since the farm, I had my own room there and only shared it with Daryl for a few days up until we fled after a herd came through.

I hated being on the road, always running, starving, and freezing. Always moving, never truly safe. With no walls or fences, it made me feel so vulnerable out there. I was so thankful for Rick's group, finding my family's farm and Hershel taking them in. We could not have survived without them. Rick brought me Daryl. We didn't like each other at first, but after I found him in the woods with an arrow in his side and catching him when Andrea grazed his skull with a bullet, I haven't left his side since.

Being near Daryl made me feel safe, I think he knew that too and even took pride in it. He was quiet but I knew him this well now and I could just tell.

I was growing frustrated out on the road. I hadn't been able to touch Daryl in months, the way I wanted to touch him. We slept on each other's shoulders most nights, resting our heads, fighting sleep. Daryl liked taking watch and that meant I would take it with him. If I took watch, he insisted he would be right there with me. We talked about everything and anything while out there. I simply enjoyed this man's company, and I liked looking at him, I thought he was gorgeous. He made killing walkers look so.. appealing, might I say it turned me on. God, I needed him, I needed his touch, his rough hands on my bare skin, my fingers in his hair, his lips colliding with my own.

This was going to be our first night sleeping alone in months. I was anxious for the sun to start going down, for dinner to be over with, all so I could have Daryl to myself.

We spent most of the day clearing again; in the evening, we decided to haul two mattresses out of one of the untouched cells and bring them up to our tower. After, Daryl went with Rick to run the fence perimeter one more time. He left me to 'decorate' and so I did.

I had a few blankets I'd been totting around these past months, and I made a makeshift bed in the middle of the tiny, yet surprisingly cozy box. I looked out the window and noticed the sun was setting in the distance. I saw Rick walking back inside. Then the next thing I heard was the door swing open and then closed.

"What a view,' A husky voice engulfed the room. It was Daryl, I turned my head and greeted him with a smile. My eyes following his every move, he set his bow against the wall and lingered over to me, "and I'm not talking bout the sunset." A breath of laughter escaped my lips, "hm, what, too corny?" He murmured.

"Maybe a little."

His hand met the small of my back and I leaned into him, my arms finding their way around his neck, and I melted into his heated embrace, his arms wrapped around me, I buried my head into his neck. He smelled like Daryl. He squeezed me softly; I gained a new sense of ease. We stayed glued together for a few seconds until he broke the embrace,

"Lift your arms."

I did as was told, His hands skimmed over my skin, checking for bites. I felt his fingers reach for the hems of my shirt and the then fabric came over my head. My hair fell over my shoulders and my bra was exposed. He stole a glance, trying not to get distracted. I felt the warmth of the air against my skin but somehow, I still got goosebumps.

Daryl tossed the shirt on the cot I laid out, his hands gliding over my back.

"..Any scratches?" He hesitated. As if scared, I was going to reveal some mystery cut; a 1 way ticket to walkerville.

"I'm good. I promise." I reassured him.

I turned back to face him, I looked down towards his waist band, then at his vest, "Your turn."

He started at the top button and worked his way threw the first few,I joined in, starting at the bottom. Our fingers met at the middle button, I took my finger and pushed it through, his torso now exposed. I scanned his chest, no bites. Before I reached for his back, he spoke, "Im good. I promise."

I nodded and believed him. He stepped forward, getting close, resting his hand on my hip, His other hand came up to move a loose piece of my hair behind my ear. I could feel his breath on my nose, I felt the warmth in my stomach growing. I could hear his breathing.

He hummed again. A devilish smirk growing on his face, "Is it wrong that I like the blood in your hair?"

Taken back, I raised my brow whilst his eyes stayed steady on mine.

"I mean-" I paused and went to touch my hair but stopped halfway when my eyes shifted up to his shoulders, I glanced at them for a split second.

his dirty, golden, scuffed up shoulders and then like word vomit-

"I like your scuffed shoulders Dixon." My tone, seductive. My fingers started a trail from his ear down to the tip on his shoulder blade, my nails gliding effortlessly.

"I like all of you." he mumbled. My gaze shifted once more, back to his.

Our eyes locked, the corners of my mouth started to stab my cheeks at his words. I couldn't help but blush. The distance between us, if there was any left, closed. My boobs rested on his chest, our lips too close to turn back now.

"I love you." He whispered against my cheek.

My heart skipped a beat, this wasn't our first exchange of the 3 words, yet still, I felt like a teenager all over again, palms sweaty, heart rate never slowing.

"I love you too." my hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him to kiss me. Our foreheads rested against one another. I felt his breath pass my ear lobe, then he started placing soft kisses behind my ear. His soft lips were light on my skin, they reached my collarbone, I gave in, tilting my head, a breathy moan escaped my lips.

He smiled against my collarbone before looking back down at me, staring into my soul with his oceans for eyes. His hand moved under my chin, and he rested his index finger under, tilting my head up slightly. "You have no idea what I'm about to do to you, do you?" His other hand was still on the small of my back.

"I might have some ideas." I teased, biting my lip.

He licked his own. "Hm, knowing you, they might be worse than mine."

"Come find out." I whispered. I pulled at his waist band, bumping my hips into his, he grunted as his hands cupped my face.

I wanted Daryl to show me how much he wanted me. Needed me. I wanted him to throw himself onto me, attack me like the hunter he was and I'm just the prey that got too close. I wanted him so bad now it ached.

Our lips brushed together, I parted them, eagerly waiting and I fluttered my eyes closed. He closed the distance as his lips met mine gracefully, my whole world stopped spinning. He sucked on my top lip as I pushed back. Our lip movements synchronizing. I felt his tongue slide by, and like instinct, I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth. He acted starved, he was, touch starved at least, so was I.

He was being almost modest up until now, the kiss grew hot, heavy and the grip he had on me tightened. He moved my face with his as our tongues danced together. I fidgeted with his pants, fighting the zipper. He really needed some new ones after all this time. Our lips never disconnected. I managed to unzip the stubborn trousers, finding his hard-on that only grew more at my touch.

He groaned in my mouth, and then moved his hands down to the buttons of my shorts. He took no time ripping them free. His hands moved pass my hips and onto my ass, he grabbed at me viciously. Another soft moan escaped my lips.

"Come here." He breathed, while lifting my thighs up, I knew what he wanted, I jumped up to straddle him, his hands catching the back of my thighs. In the middle of our heavy kiss, his lips found my neck again, he sucked at my skin, more eager breaths of mine broke free. I could feel Daryl leaning down, he placed me on the mattress. I was able to catch my breath as I watched him remove his vest and jeans. Next his hands pulled my shorts off. I picked my head up and rested on my elbows, he stood at the edge of the cot and paused. Daryl rubbed his thumb under his lip, wiping away leftover spit. He admired my body and with that same thumb, he trailed it down my inner thigh. That smirk he wore so well appeared on his face.

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?"

Before I could respond, he spoke, "I just can't help it, you're fucking perfect. This is perfect." His eyes flickered around the concrete box. "I missed you like this."

The heat in my cheeks rose, he leaned back down, our faces edging closer once again. "I missed this too, so fucking much." I muttered. His hand still in-between my thighs, getting closer and closer to my warmth; his other hand. holding himself up above me, "Be a good girl and spread your legs."

I did and he kissed me again, the hand that was still caressing my thigh, moved lower and I felt his thumb rub against my clit, his fingers resting between my folds. It was only just a tease, before he moved his whole body down, his hands rested on either side of my waist, he began leaving kisses and bites down my stomach till he reached my underwear, his eyes stared up at me, I could feel his timed breathing on my skin. He left a kiss above my underwear, right on my clit. The hunger in his eyes flicked. I was growing hot with anticipation.

My lips parted as I waited for him to remove my underwear. He nudged them down my legs with elegance and then threw them across the room.

His mouth met my wetness and left kisses right on my clit, while his thumb circled around it, he glanced up at me, "Holy shit." He mumbled, "You sure did miss me princess, fuck." He began sucking on my clit, I fell back, my nails finding the blankets. His hands held my hips in place, they rose with his every move. He buried his face into my cunt and focused on my clit, his tongue lapping around it. I leaned back, taking it all in. Daryl just knew what to do and that made him all the more hot.

As he licked and sucked, I could feel my peak rising. He didn't slow down once he realized I was giving into my climax. "That's it princess, let me get a taste." He breathed in-between my folds.

I let out a cry of pleasure. Every stoke of his tongue was breaking me, his hands clinging to me as I grinded my hips to mimic his movements. My back now arching for Daryl and his hard work, he cursed under his breath as my moans began to frequent, his mouth and fingers working together, my fingernails digging into the fabric beneath me. I never wanted this to end, selfishly, whines of pleading, (please, don't stop, & yes's) filled the room as I dissolved into immaculate pleasure.

Daryl lifted his head, and with the look of angst in his eyes, lifting himself off the bed, as I laid there anxious. He removed his boxers swiftly and jumped back on me, nuzzling his hips right in-between my thighs, I could feel his hard-on tapping my opening with every motion he made, He never broke eye contact w me and left kisses on my boobs while removing my bra. He got it off on the first try, I don't know how but thank god because as soon as the fabric was out from under me, his lips pressed against one of my nipples, as his hand grasped for the other. My head fell back, a moan echoed from my throat.

He hummed against my bare skin, my wet nipple getting hard as he breathed, his mouth hovering over it. He looked up at me, grinning. He liked seeing me like this, my quivering motivating him and the sounds coming from my lips, sounds he was responsible for. It got him off, He loved it, loved the way I moaned, the way I moved against his touch. If heaven ever existed this, was it, right here underneath my person; that meant hell was wherever Daryl was not.

He brought his face up to mine, he rested on his hands and knees above me, leaving a few separated, pecks on my lips. I feel his tip pressing against me. He brought his opened palm to my mouth, "Spit." He breathed.

I returned his grin and did as was told. Leaving my eyes stuck on his whilst doing so. He coated his cock with my spit, I bit my lip, this was the first time I snuck a peak of his manhood, my mouth watered at the sight, I bucked my hips, and spread my legs, he caught one and rested it over his shoulder. His breathing heightening as he pushed against my cunt, I was wet, we both knew that. The heartbeat in-between my legs pulsed as hard as ever, the ache growing the closer he got. His lips connected with mine once again, I bit his lip when he tried to break away, I held his neck as he pressed harder, then more and more, till finally he was all the way in. His head fell back, I sharp moan left my lips. He lowered himself, letting his body rest on mine, he thrusted into me; not even letting me get use to the feeling. No, Daryl was as eager as I was and that made it all the better. he thrusted into my cervix several more times, making room for himself inside me,

"Jesus fucking christ, (y/n), " He whimpered, scanning my face and my body, "you look so fucking good. You feel.. so.. fucking good."

He sped up, pounding my insides out, I couldn't contain myself any longer, I almost forgot I didn't need too. We were high up, no way anyone could hear me. Louder moans began leaving my body, I begged for him to never stop, to make me cum, to go harder. I wanted every inch. Hushed moans were escaping Daryl's lips, he smashed his lips against mine, trying to conceal them. But we were fucking like animals now, bodies sprinkled with sweat, shaking, he groaned against ear, as I cried and whimpered in his. My hands were getting tangled in his hair, we were both close now. A few more rushed thrusts and I cried out, my body going weak as he kept thrusting into me. I gripped Daryl's back, sinking my nails into his burning skin, his husky breathing heavy in my ears. I came again, my legs began to shake, Daryl was still grinding into me, he cursed over his breath and his body tightened and in one swift motion he leaped out of me, and grabbed his cock, aiming it at my abdomen. He released his load onto my shaky stomach. I took a deep breath, gaining consciousness again after my climax.

I sat up, my nose leveled with his hard-on, I gazed up at him seductively, I grabbed him at the base and wrapped my mouth around it, sucking him completely dry, he caressed my cheek. I let go and let him walk away to grab a loose rag he had handy. He whipped the cum from my stomach and chest and threw the rag on the ground next to his pile of clothes.

We both laid back down, he kissed my forehead and his finger drawing lines on my cheek and neck. Daryl hummed, "You know, we're never leaving this guard tower now." I started tracing lines on his arm, admiring his physique. I let out a breath and smiled. "Sounds perfect to me."

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wp: thewriterdoll

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead

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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month

Note

Ok, writing request time:

Perhaps someone is captured and there’s a rescue. I love comfort with that type of angst hehe

Link had tasted blood many times.

The first time was when he’d fallen flat on his face in Zora’s Domain while chasing Bazz. He’d also lost his first tooth as a result. But he’d gotten himself hurt plenty of times since then.

It had never been like this, though. The taste stayed, stuck in his mouth because he hadn’t had any way to fix it, he hadn’t been able to drink something. His throat was drier than the sand that was stuck in it, and he coughed a little as he huddled in on himself.

He’d been training and training, yet the moment he was confronted with danger, he’d gotten himself captured. He felt absolutely disappointed in himself and angry.

Worse than anything, though, he felt scared. The thirteen-year-old hadn’t expected to be jumped by these strange men, and they’d dared to try and take the Master Sword away as well. He was so stupid, and now he had the indignity of staring at it through the bars of his cell, reminded that he’d managed to get himself into this mess.

“If he bears the sword, then he has to be the one!” one of the soldiers hissed to the other.

“He’s just a kid, there’s no way,” his companion huffed, crossing his arms.

“Then what about the sword?” The first one asked. “We got information that the sword had chosen a wielder, and this kid has it!”

Link glared at the guards, but he didn’t bother saying anything. His father usually wouldn’t when people were threatening him, after all.

His father. He hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed in him. Link was so angry at himself - he’d fought off almost all of them before two of them had hit him from behind. His head still ached horribly from it.

Stupid or not… he just wished someone would notice he was gone. He had to try to figure out how to get out of here, but he’d never been in a situation like this before.

He couldn’t let his fear stop him from escaping. There had to be a way to break out.

Link took a steadying breath, eyes observant as he ignored the conversation going on between the weird guards. They all dressed the same and hid their faces behind masks that looked like some absurd rendition of the Sheikah symbol. Maybe…

Link’s train of thought derailed as the guards turned their attention to him. He grew more alert, stiffening and straightening his back, waiting for some kind of threat. What had they just said? Were they talking to him?

Whatever they were going to do, they never had a chance. One of them yelped as something whistled through the air, a familiar sound to Link’s ears. He perked up immediately, seeing the arrow that embedded into the guard’s back as the other one drew a sickle, ready to fight. Link shot to his feet, rushing towards the felled guard and reaching as far as he could to get to his keys.

The other guard was stabbed through the chest, and Link recoiled his hand as the man nearly fell on it. When he glanced up, he felt immediate relief flood his entire body, and he almost cried at the sight of the familiar soldier.

“Papa!” He croaked, voice cracking, scrambling to the locked door to his cell.

His father stood in front of him, moving so fast Link could barely keep up, defeating every enemy that rushed into the area. Then he hastily grabbed the key from the dead guards, unlocking the cell, and Link slammed into his embrace. The hug was brief, though, far too brief, before Abel ordered him to get the Master Sword. The pair rushed ahead, and Link saw multiple Hyrulian soldiers fighting the strange men dressed in red.

It didn’t take long to find the exit to the canyon fortress, and Link was limping by the time they got to safety. He’d almost forgotten they’d hit his leg really hard, and it was starting to bother him a lot.

Once they were somewhere safe, Abel immediately dragged Link back into a hug. Link could feel his father’s heart racing against his ear, even through the chainmail, and he let himself shiver as the adrenaline wore off.

“Papa, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, hiding his face so no one else could see his tears.

“Ssh,” his father hushed him gently. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, little knight.”

The relief he felt at those words, paired with the steady and tight embrace from safe arms, wrenched a sob out of the young soldier. His father hushed him again, even softer than before, and then gently pulled away to look him over. Link could hardly see him through the tears, but he couldn’t even express how wonderful it was to just see his father’s face.

He hated how scared he’d been. But…

Warm, calloused hands moved along his forehead, then his cheek, tracing the blood trail from his temple. He watched his father’s eyes harden a little at the sight of it before melting once they made contact with his own.

“Oh, Link,” he sighed a little, and Link let out another quiet sob.

He couldn’t keep crying like this, and he knew it. He’d never really seen his papa cry, and he knew that he was the best soldier there was. He couldn’t break down like this every time there was danger - this was part of his job as a soldier!

His father must have thought the same. He didn’t hug him again, though he wiped the tears away wordlessly, thumb caressing his cheek. Link sniffled and but his lips, trying to get the hiccups under control.

“Where are you hurting, son?” Abel asked softly.

“My head and my leg,” he answered, trying to stop his voice from wobbling. “Papa, I’m sorry.”

Abel’s brow furrowed a little, and he pulled Link to walk with him. The young knight couldn’t really tell where they were, the place was surrounded by cliff-sides and rocks, but they were moving towards an area where he could see more Hyrulian soldiers.

“Link,” his father started, and Link stiffened a little at the gravity in his tone. “I… this is my fault, not yours, so stop apologizing.”

“I got myself captured,” Link argued. And I’m crying about it like some scared little child.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Abel said firmly. “This is not your fault. You fought off plenty of them before they captured you. I’m proud of you… and I’m sorry I let this happen.”

He was sorry? He had no reason to be! Link had defeated plenty grown men by this point, he’d proven he should be able to function like any other foot soldier. It made sense to leave him alone like his father had! This was Link’s fault!

Link found that he didn’t have the energy to push the matter, though. He just wanted to hug his papa again, but Abel didn’t seem in the mood, his own expression dark as he strode into the military camp.

By this point Link had managed to stop crying, and he tried not to attract attention to the tear tracks on his cheeks. Many knights glanced at him worriedly, and a few called out in greeting and relief. Link tried to smile and nod at them before he was guided into an empty tent.

Abel set to work quietly, gently pushing Link to sit on the ground and kneeling beside him. He cleaned the blood off his face, washed it gently out of his hair, and he checked his leg, wrapping it up. Only then did he pull him to his chest, and Link melted into the hold. Thankfully there were no more tears, but he never wanted his father to let go.

They stayed there in silence, with Abel slowly working his fingers through his son’s hair, until Link finally fell asleep, safe in his father’s care.

When the boy’s breathing had steadied, Abel finally let his own emotions spill out, burying his face in his child’s hair.

Goddess above. He’d almost lost him.

I’m such an idiot, he mentally berated himself. Just because the child was an adept fighter didn’t mean he should be left to his own devices.

He couldn’t leave Link alone. Not anymore. He wasn’t just a little boy going on adventures. Not with that sword on his back.

It had only been four months, but the boy was attracting attention now. And Abel was terrified.

He’d have to train Link harder. And he was not leaving his son alone again.

Abel huddled closer to his little knight, never letting go, not as the sun set, not as the crickets started to chirp, not as the world quieted around them. He never let go.

#you ask skye answers #lovely smiles #writing #abel #breath of the wild link #botw link #legend of zelda #don’t sorry Link it’s ok to be scared #Your dad was freaking terrified #They’re both stupid with emotions it’s great 👍🏻#Link has no idea what the Yiga are #Abel’s only just learning about them #I imagine they were less of a serious threat and more an occasional nuisance without a name before things started getting serious

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whispereons · 1 year

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Oracle!Reader Part 9

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 8, Part 10

Warning! This chapter has some gore and death! Remember my sagau has darker worldbuilding and it's an imposter au! Yanderes is a warning in itself.

Muffled thumping and talking bothered your slumber. Feeling groggy you opened your eyes slowly. A groan slips past your lips as your head pounds when you move to sit up. What happened last night?

Memories of the night before coming back to you in a trickle before it rushes your mind all at once. Your mask!

Urgently you feel your face and relax a little at it still being there. But what if Kazuha took it off and put it back on? You would be put in a cell, right? The bedding underneath you were still soft and warm in fact something even warmer was on your legs too...

Looking down you see a head of white and red hair resting on your leg. The sleeping face of Kazuha with bed hair was sitting on a chair letting his upper body rest on the bed.

As cute as he was, sleeping very content on your legs you needed answers to whether he removed your mask or not. Why he was sleeping here was secondary.

"Kazuha? Kazuha, wake up!" You shake his shoulders gently as you call his name. He wakes up almost immediately no doubt due to his sensitive hearing.

"Y/N? Why are you-? Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." It doesn't take Kazuha long to realize the situation as he jumps away from the bed in a hurry. The slight red to his ears as he turns his head away from you is an easy indicator to his embarrassment.

"It's fine really. You carried me back to my room, right? Thank you for that." His reaction was technically positive while referring you by name meaning he didn't take it off. You should be fine... for now.

"It was no trouble Y/N, especially as you had done the same for me the first night. It's just a little worrying how tired I got once I laid you on the bed. I must have been exhausted from the battle since I didn't drink anything."

Kazuha's complexion starts to cool down as he speaks about the sudden sleepiness. It's quite convenient, a little too convenient. Teyvat probably had a hand in this. You were grateful for it either way.

Politely you dismiss Kazuha who is more than eager to escape the situation. Packing up the last of your stuff and freshening up, you leave the room and climb the stairs.

The cawing of birds become clear, and you look to see the bustling pier of Liyue Harbor. You recognize it as the farthest pier from the city entrance. Unlike the game where you only saw a few people and sellers, it was much busier now.

People of all colors and clothing walked around buying, selling, playing, and working. Liyue was said to be home to many people meeting, so it was nice to see an actual busy port.

Tightening your grip on the strap of the bag, you hope that the crowd will help you escape from meeting any acolytes. Zhongli, Ningguang, and Yelan were the top people to avoid. A smart, well connected Ningguang is far more dangerous than the isolated adeptus Ganyu or Xiao.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Turning around at the sound of your name, a hug from a very excited chef and panda nearly topples you. Smiling a little you hug her back.

"Woke up fine after passing out like that Xiangling?" She pulls away with a pout at your words. Guoba is still clinging to you, and you pet his head while smiling at Xiangling.

"I'll be able to handle more next time! I swear it." You nod along to her determination before asking her a question.

"Where's Xinyan? I know she had a performance today; did she leave already?"

"That's correct. Xinyan had to leave around the same time Beidou left for business. Furong relayed her message to me about it."

Kazuha strolls to where you're standing with Xiangling. He's carrying a small bag with him hinting that he might be staying in Liyue for a while.

"That's a shame, maybe I'll get to see her when I'm in Liyue Harbor. I'm guessing you both have your own ideas on what to do in Liyue."

Speaking casually, you begin walking off the boat onto the port, Kazuha and Xiangling follow behind you.

Xiangling speaks about fishing before going to Wanmin Restaurant where she can go back to helping her dad. Kazuha's calm voice mentions a trip to the Lisha area where he had yet to explore.

Keeping your tone light, you vaguely speak of traveling around and the possibility of visiting another nation. It's best to have a flexible track record to avoid being stuck in any minor lies.

The crowd around you seems to grow thicker. It pushes the three of you together into a clump in the crowd. The smell of fish, sweat, and salt is grossing you out.

Kazuha's featherlight grip on your wrist and Xiangling's warm hand on your shoulder are what helped you all stay together and escape the masses. You sigh in relief at the cool breeze sweeping away the hot sticky feeling.

Quickly you begin saying your goodbyes to them only to be surprised by their slight clinginess.

"Why are you leaving so fast? I can treat you to a meal at Wanmin Restaurant first." She keeps her hand on your shoulder as she inches closer. Trills come from below and you look to see Guoba clinging to your leg. When did he come over?

"I agree, we don't have to split so fast. If anything, you can explore the Lisha area with me." Kazuha changes his grip from your wrist to your hand with ease.

You would be more than happy to, but you really didn't want to attract more vision holders. They would inevitably ask about you since you awakened most of them. That would lead to more questions, more lies, and less freedom.

"I'm sorry but I do have things to take care of in the city first. I don't want to hold either of you back. Xiangling, the fish you want are only around this time of day and Kazuha, I won't have you waiting hours or even days for me." You speak with firm tone and escape their holds.

Xiangling and Guoba wear matching sad puppy looks while Kazuha seems calm. The slight tremble of his hands as he waves goodbye to you doesn't go unnoticed.

He really can't understand just why he's so attached to you. It's not like him to get this troubled by saying goodbye to people he's met during his travels. His hand shook resisting the urge to hold you again.

Perhaps some time away from you would be good. For you and him.

You turn the corner around Hanfeng's Ironmongers and release the breath you've been holding. Relaxing your shoulders, you resist the urge to groan as you walk along the stone floor.

This was certainly a new pattern that you've begun to notice in your acolytes but not unwelcome. Being clingy and attached to you will help blind them from any slip ups you might make. It was nice to feel loved by your comfort characters too...

The headache you've been sporting since you woke up pulses as if reminding you of its existence. Drinking on a boat was not your best decision but you wouldn't count it as your worst yet. That spot belonged to your moment of weakness with Gorou that gained Yae's attention.

Sighing you keep walking trying to remember the first stop you had planned.

"-thank you for supporting the Adventurers' Guild." Your ears perked at the end of the sentence and a person in the signature green outfit.

That's right, you wanted to finally join the Guild since you never got the chance to in Inazuma. With renewed vigor you walk further and climb up the stone steps.

As you begin climbing the wooden staircase (was it always this high?) you see a black hat and two long twin tails as you climb up. The body gestures and promotional voice are a clear indicator to who is gracing Lan, the Liyue Branch Master, with her presence.

"This new proposal is designed to make anyone, especially you agree to it. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is always up to date, so we increased the number of coffins you get with your first order to 150 wooden coffins due to departure of Rex Lapis."

You get to the top of the stairs letting you have front row seats to the amusing sale performance.

"I hope you remember the on-site cadaver collection service covering almost every region in Liyue. Because I'm proud to say that we now cover them all. The fee is still very affordable of course!"

Hu Tao smiles perfectly as Lan only gets more annoyed.

"Even when you had the traveler, I still rejected you."

"So, you do remember! That's perfect as now I won't have to drag her here to be a reference again. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor fully understands why you may be hesitant to agree due to the social ideals. Despite the fact that everyone and everything ends. But it truly is in your best interest to agree to my proposal."

Hu Tao seems to get a little more desperate as Lan presses her hands to her temple.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." Your honest thoughts are spoken aloud drawing the women's attention to you.

Unlike Hu Tao's cheery and overly persuasive voice, you take on a more relaxed tone.

"You want to keep your adventurers safe and making them agree to this would look bad is what you're thinking right? But don't you see how Hu Tao's proposal is making them safer? An adventurer agrees to this job knowing that their life is in danger, if they get scared at the thought of signing that waiver then they aren't cut out for adventuring. How would they survive when attacked? They won't, so this may help prevent needless deaths."

Hu Tao's eyes sparkle at your words as Lan seems dumbstruck. You don't blame her, a random person coming up and taking Hu Tao's side on her business practices is a rarity.

"Now if you agree, you could prevent a lot of heart ache for those who are connected to the adventurers too. Someone has to pick up the bodies, Hu Tao's on-site cadaver collection is the best option. If not them then you'll need to have a different adventurer pick them up, have the family pick them up or pay a bigger fee for the Parlor to do it. You wouldn't want someone who was friends, coworker or family to deal with that corpse if you don't have to, right?"

This was all stuff you've wanted to tell Lan when you saw this scene in Hu Tao's story quest. It felt good finally getting it off your chest. Hu Tao's idea was really more like insurance similar to those who worked dangerous jobs like construction.

"Someone that recognizes my genius! I thought I had a way with words until I heard you speak of possibilities I couldn't even fathom. Tell me what's your name?"

Hu Tao shakes your hand excitedly and before you can even open your mouth to respond she looks back to Lan.

"But before that, I would like to seal the deal with Miss Lan on the offer. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has a long and detailed history of honoring the client's requests on their death bed. So, agree to this now and reap all the benefits!"

"I said no, I'm not telling you again Hu Tao. Say what you will but I'm not changing my mind. And you, do you have any actual business with the Adventurers' Guild? If you do, speak to Katheryne if not then leave."

You chuckle at the way Lan stubbornly rejects Hu Tao with a scowl before piping up coyly.

"Well lucky for you Lan, I'm Y/N and I'm looking to be an adventurer." The smile you have seems to annoy Lan even further. She mutters something sounding very similar to "of course they are" and points at Kathryne.

"Miss Lan may be unwilling to partner up with me but the same can't be said the same for you Y/N. Those eyebags, slumped shoulders, and frizzy hair. All of that to point to you being chased by something intangible. Why don't you come over sometime and I can get you a 30% discount on a nice coffin as thanks for your help?"

Were you really that haggard looking or was Hu Tao exaggerating it to sell to you? The speed Hu Tao can switch targets from Lan to you is bit startling. Her elemental ghost creeps around her back to wrap around your waist pulling you closer to her.

"Much like you said earlier, an adventurer's life isn't easy! If you agree now, I can promise a special on-site cadaver collection that can extend as far as Monstadt and Sumeru. Buy now and save later, it's the families that regret not buying a coffin or spot for burial."

Well, you did vouch for Hu Tao's proposition earlier so it would be hypocritical to refuse now. But what if you're dragged back to Inazuma and die there? Or worse your identity is exposed leading to you not being allowed a funeral?

The furrow of your brows and finger on your chin as you mentally compare the pros and cons makes Hu Tao smile wider. Until an employee from the Funeral Parlor runs up the stairs calling her name.

"Director Hu Tao, we need your help with the same customer from last week. She keeps trying to change the plan last minute!"

Sighing in annoyance, Hu Tao releases you and steps backward letting you have your personal space back.

"It seems this must be all the time we have together Y/N." She keeps her hand over her heart as she speaks dramatically before wistfully continuing. "A meeting with someone like you is once in a lifetime, so here!"

A business card with the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor name, symbol and address is thrusted in front of you. The address changes to something readable as your fingers brush over the words and her cold rings as you take the card from her.

Do you even want to keep this paper? It's like a guaranteed ticket to meeting Zhongli who you've felt very conflicted about since you arrived here. He and Venti have had thousands of years to grow as worshippers while watching the cult grow. If anyone could pick up your lie, it would be them. Maybe burning the paper would be the best option.

You wave in slight befuddlement as the employee drags Hu Tao away in a hurry. Once she's out of sight, you turn back to the Adventurers' Guild front desk.

"So how do I start?"

After filling out the stacks of paperwork Katheryne handed you, you give it back and crack your wrist. It had asked all manners of questions from 'do you have any control over the elements?' to 'which of the three mushroom types is edible?'. Something tells you Lan made it purposefully harder.

Katheryne disappears into the building with Lan and after a few minutes she comes back out with a smile.

"Congratulations, you've been accepted into the Adventurers' Guild. I am unable to draw up an adventure rank for you but here is your adventurer handbook."

You take the familiar handbook from her and wince at the way her voice glitches when speaking about your adventure rank. Katheryne has always been a meta character so perhaps with your isekai'd statues the system is struggling. Or Teyvat is doing this to protect you as it's heavily implied Kathryne was created by Sandrone, the Fatui Harbinger.

"Due to your lack of adventure rank we will skip that area. Instead, we can give you the choice of wearing your regular clothes or the adventurers' uniform. It's made of material designed to stand against attacks, the weather, and long durations of time."

You smile and shake your head. That uniform would be a dead giveaway to your new job. Plus, it was kind of ugly, there was no way you would run around looking like Tingle from Zelda.

Wait why did they never offer the traveler the option to wear the uniform?

"Then let's get to the main aspect of adventuring, which is commissions. Between the choice of a single daily commission or four weekly commissions, you chose the latter. You are free to pick up your commissions tomorrow morning. Any questions or concerns?"

There was no option for four daily commissions on the paperwork. They must have given it due to the traveler proving their strength using the Dvalin stunt that happened right before the 'Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild' quest. Or because it's a game.

"Just one, will I have to fight abyss mages and hilichurls? Since I wrote that I could control some elements and fighting skills."

"Yes, you will have to face such monsters since you said yes to both questions. Of course, you won't be facing strong ones as all new adventurers start with easy monsters until their adventure rank rises. Unfortunately, since we can't assign you a rank, you will never be assigned commission focusing on stronger enemies."

What a relief! You already felt horrible at the thought of fighting against the cursed khaenri'ahs. Making the fight more difficult would just make it worse.

"Then ad astra abyssosque, Adventurer! With effort, you shall reach the stars and conquer the abyss!"

That signature phrase makes you smile at the robotic woman before leaving down the stairs. That had to be the simplest job interview you've every applied for!

Not to mention this is the only one you've ever successfully gotten hired for. Most deny you for not having a high school diploma and the rest for not having a GED. You would have gotten one if your old boss ever let you. But the way a gang keeps you trapped is by cutting off any other options. If you never get better, you can never leave.

You walk back down the stairs and stuff the handbook into your bag. What to do now? Visiting Hu Tao is not an option, and this was Liyue for crying out loud! You couldn't explore Inazuma in fear of being seen but the problem didn't exist in Liyue... for now at least.

Glancing at the teleport waypoint in the middle of the city, you make sure to keep a good distance from it. Accidentally activating it would be the worst thing especially with all the people around.

Pushing back any worries you begin exploring the Harbor while checking stores for anything useful. The red of the building frames were such an eye-catching design compared to the monochrome and neon buildings on Earth.

The lanterns and lights were off, but you could already imagine the sight of them illuminating the city. One thing you did note was how everyone walked on the stairs and avoided the smooth stone. Wasn't that one reserved for royalty or rather the Archons? Best that you avoid it too.

Unable to read the signs you took to spying the wares to see if the stores have what you need. Camping supplies like a tent, sleeping bag (the closest thing was a sleeping mat and a blanket), travel-sized hygiene tools, a lantern that holds a candle and a multi tool. Were the first things on your list.

You couldn't stay in hotels or get lucky enough like you did to stay with the Kamisatos so it's best to be prepared to sleep outside. Hotels and even motels are expensive so it's best to save money until you have a general income established.

Having a game bag was such a blessing. The shopkeepers looked surprised when you stuffed the whole tent into it but not to the point where it's absurd. The adepti inventions and the traveler seemed to have made all these things rare but not unheard of.

Another high priority was medical supplies. There was a chance that the Statue of the Seven could heal you but that could summon the respective Archon too. You didn't want to bleed to death while walking to one either. Unless you could teleport to them too...

With a good-sized medical kit, you go to the Wanmin restaurant and merely order from the outside. A good heaping of raw ingredients is added to your bag along with a cooking pot.

Second Life, the store nearby is perfect for some of the missing items like milk. The bag is timeless, so nothing ever rots or spoils. If you had something like this on Earth, you wouldn't have spent years going hungry.

You end up near Xigu Antiques and take out Beisht's scale from your bag. If you ever got low on money, then selling Beisht's scale could work. But using it as a bargaining chip or as a verification of being an oracle would be ideal.

"This scale is unlike I've ever seen. It's not only in perfect condition but it's overflowing with hydro energy. Inventors would pay around 5 million mora to power inventions using it. While jewelers like us would pay up to 2 million mora for it. Are you interested in selling it?"

You give a polite refusal before being extra careful in storing the scale. The last thing you want is its price tag going down. Only one thing left on the checklist of items you wanted to buy.

As you ran around looking for that particular shop, you slowed down near the toy seller. Granny Shan smiled at you with wrinkles crinkling as you admired the kites and toys on the bench.

"Hello young one, interested in any of the toys? The ready-made toys are all child sized but I'm open to commissions for specific toys as well."

There wasn't any point in buying anything. The money could be better spent on living expenses rather than kites or fireworks. With a well-mannered smile you're about to decline until you spot a toy design on a piece of paper.

The air in your lungs struggle to leave you as your hands gently pick up the paper to see it closer. A grey cat plushie design with black and white patches graces your eyes. Your lips are dry, and your throat feels tight.

"This design... Can I get the first finished product?"

"I would be happy to. This kind of toy must bring back some childhood memories, right?"

Granny Shan is oblivious to your inner turmoil as she writes down your name and takes the appropriate mora from you. "It'll be done in around two days. Feel free to pick up that day or the day after."

Thankfully it wasn't that expensive, and you leave the stall trying to regain your bearings. The reminder of your beloved Ashtray was sudden but bittersweet. You had a similar plushie in Earth that comforted you, maybe having one here would help you too.

After walking in a daze, you find yourself in front of a shop that was hidden away. It wasn't in the game but maybe that's because it would have been useless to note. Entering the shop, the sight of wind gliders sends you some excitement and nervousness.

Wind gliders of different designs and colors are hung around the shop as protective gear is stationed around on tables. The metallic of the middle structure of it are cold to the touch. A contradictory to the soft cotton hiding the bendable mechanics of the wings.

You're quickly attended to by an employee as they explain the functions and unique color schemes behind each glider. Some designs have monochrome colors to let the buyer color it themselves while others are bejeweled to hell and back.

The one you end up buying is a mild colored glider that suited your color scheme with gold and black mechanical parts. Hopefully you won't regret skipping on the protective gear, Teyvat would protect you from hurting yourself... right?

Who are you kidding? You didn't have a clue on how to use it. Gliding in the game and gliding in real life were two different things. Although they explained the basic of attaching it to the back of your clothes and how it'll automatically deploy at certain velocity. That didn't fix the fact that you don't have a license to use it or any actual knowledge.

There's a bookstore in Liyue right? You already needed to buy some books on camping and the in-depth flora so you can pick up a more detailed gliding instruction manual too.

Feeling a bit lost you climb the red staircases vaguely remembering that the bookstore should be above ground floor. What you end up coming across first is the Heyu Tea House where Yun Jin usually performs.

It's a lot bigger than it was shown in game. This one actually looks like it can hold her performance. A border is set around the stage as a paper is stuck to it. Getting closer you run your fingers over the words.

'Yun Jin performing in less than two hours! The final act to the opera: The Lonely Chameleon!'

Great, now you know exactly where not to be in two hours. You would undoubtably miss whatever story she would be telling as it's the last act. Why be there and potentially draw attention and embarrassment to yourself?

Continuing your journey, you end up being forced to walk past the Northland Back. Vlad, the daytime guard that you were cheering on to end up with Nadia, the night guard was a lot more intimidating in person.

You walk past quickly as the memories of meeting Childe, learning the truth of Zhongli and stealing the chest inside the bank enter your mind. It was years ago that you did that quest, but it felt nostalgic with you walking past it like this.

Confusion is clear on your face as you look across the staircase and see the bookstore much farther than you thought. Slapping your hand lightly on your face you audibly groan at the realization.

You climbed the wrong staircase.

After backtracking, getting a little more lost and finally climbing what you think is the right staircase you are greeted by the bookshelves. A sigh of relief leaves you as your fingers trail against the spines of the books to read the titles.

Most of these you already have in the game screen and can access anytime. An in-depth gliding book, natural Liyue flora book, and a camping book are all paid for with your mora pouch that is much lighter than when you first arrived at Liyue.

Unfortunately, you had to give up on finding a book on tracking and hunting. Seems someone had already bought the last copy.

Slowly you walk back to the area where the bridge connected to the Harbor. The sun was close to setting with the orange hue embracing the sky. Most people are already home with only a few children and the usual dogs hanging out on the bridge. Passing by the alchemy table and pond your tired thoughts begin to wander.

To think alchemy was a real thing in this world. In some ways Teyvat surpassed Earth's technology using it while they were also limited due to it. You could probably make a lot of money by inventing the most useful tools you saw on Earth. Like the creation of a bicycle or at least a tricycle was revolutionary during this era.

"I'm happy to walk ya back Yun Jin but I really can't stay."

"I understand Xinyan so thank you for escorting me back to the Heyu Tea House."

You freeze at the foot of the bridge as the faint figures of Xinyan and Yun Jin walk from the other side of the bridge. Yun Jin must have gone to watch Xinyan's performance but wasn't hers supposed to start in less than an hour?

A loud bang catches your attention as the sound of electro crystalizing is heard from the city on your left. Two geovishap hatchlings speed out of somewhere from the city as Keqing chases them. The hatchlings circle around Keqing as she continuesly dodges their attacks.

"Everyone be careful! Please keep a clear distance from this area for your own safety!"

Watching in surprise you stand at the foot of the bridge as the kids and dogs get closer to you. Seems Beidou wasn't kidding when she said that the monsters and Ley lines were acting strange. The game has had monsters get close to the cities but never inside it.

As Keqing continues to block and attack the hatchlings, Xinyan and Yun Jin get to the halfway point of the bridge. Heavy footsteps of multiple guards can be heard from the direction Keqing came from.

The geovishap hatchlings startle at the vibrations and curl back into balls moving in a fast pace toward the bridge. The same bridge that you were in front of!

Urgently you're about to move out the way when the children hold onto your clothes in fear. Combine that with the two dogs blocking your feet, moving out of the way was impossible.

Did you have enough time to get your sickle out of your bag? Was there anything else you can use?! The hatchlings speed up as Keqing notices your predicament and rushes over. You can already tell that even if she used her skill, she wouldn't make it in time.

Trembling the kids close their eyes and bury their heads into your clothing. The dogs bark and growl at the approaching hatchlings. Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes and hold your arms out in some form of defense.

The rough rocks of the hatchling scrape your hand and you swing your arm to the side from the pain. The hatchling makes a pitiful whimper as it's pushed back by the sickle appearing in your hands.

In surprise you examine the sickle in your hands. Did you really get the ability to sheathe and unsheathe your weapon without manually holding it? It's quite late seeing as you could have used this during Beisht's battle but better late than never.

Did the creatures really not recognize you as the creator?

Your blood from the scrape drips down your hand and hits the ground. You could tell that something changed within the geovishap hatchlings... The one that scratched your hand started to spin around in circles for seemingly no reason.

The second hatchling lunged at the first one with teeth and claws barred out. It pins the first one to the ground and brutally stabs it as it bites chunks of rock out of its skin.

Everyone around stops at the scene and watches it in horrific disbelief. The blood splatters all over the floor and the smell of copper invades your nose. The bloody barely moving corpse of the hatchling starts to weakly crawl to you.

The kids shriek and the dogs whine as the chipped bloody geo claw reaches toward you. Unlike how threatening it felt earlier, the sight of it trying so desperately to reach you had grief swelling up inside.

The second hatchling with bloody rocks and crimson flowing out of its jaw follows it as it's club like tail raises. The tail is slammed down onto the it's victim with no remorse repeatedly. As the rocky exterior is beaten away blood flies off the body.

Your body takes the brunt of the splashing blood as you cannot stop staring at the corpse. By the time the tail is lifted off the body, all that's left is a bloody pulp of rock, scales and flesh.

Everything is silent for a moment as the sole Geo hatchling looks up at you. It seems happy? Maybe even proud of what it did. It rips off the gold horn from the corpse and places it at your feet.

You stare down at the item as you shakily pick it up. It's still warm. Whether from the blood or the newly deceased creature, you aren't sure.

The background seems to blur as you stare at it. The children running to their parents, Keqing yelling out orders, Yun Jin and Xinyan trying to get past without attracting the attention of the hatchling. All of it fades away.

What caused this situation to happen? They didn't recognize you until your blood dribbled out. Teyvat was calling strong creatures to protect you so maybe the weaker ones hadn't got the message yet? Should you be mad at the hatchling that stands at your feet looking at you with adoration?

If a person did this, you would be appalled. But nature was never kind and Teyvat had its own laws. Even if you did kill the geo hatchling for murdering its brethren, it wouldn't stop anything. They aren't like humans who can understand your words and worries. Besides the hatchling didn't do it in your name like the acolytes' sacrificial events, it did it to protect you...

You snap back into attention as Keqing teleports using her skill above the hatchling. It curls up and rolls around you to escape using the bridge. The faint trail of blood in its wake is only mildly off-putting compared to earlier.

In its hurry it slams into Yun Jin's chest. Her clothing is smeared with blood, and it rips from the rocky scales. She stumbles back with a pained cry as Xinyan growls and summons her weapon.

"Get away from her!" Xinyan barely misses the hatchling as it digs under the ground and reappears behind them. Xinyan is about to give chase, but you grab her arm in a haste.

"Just leave it be, there's more important things to worry about! Yun Jin's show is starting in less than an hour."

Yun Jin stands up from the ground and the damage had already been done. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was smudged, and her clothes were torn with a blood smear.

"Oh no, oh dear. I was supposed to perform in these clothes, I had no costume prepared. If I go back now, they'll be so caught up in fixing me that the show will be ruined."

Yun Jin's despair quickly captures Xinyan's attention, and you glance at the geovishap hatchling that flees the area. Some of the Millelith guards are about to give chase but Keqing stops them.

"I think we still have a chance to fix things." Your voice has a glimmer of hope as you take in Yun Jin's appearance. "I don't know how to do your hair, but I have experience in makeup and clothing. If we all work together, we could get it fixed up in time."

"Is that really a possibility?"

"Don't give up hope Yun Jin! Y/N is right, if we go somewhere and fix it up, you might make it! You know I can help with all that stuff too."

Yun Jin smiles feeling a bit better with Xinyan and your reassurance. Before you can start looking around for somewhere to work on it Keqing walks up to your group.

"Hello, I wanted to come over to amend the situation that I could have prevented if not for my own lack of skills. Situations like these may not be under the Yuheng's responsibility but as a member of the Liyue Qixing who was here, I should have been able to stop the geovishap hatchlings.

As much as I would like to properly introduce myself, it's best that I cut to the chase. Yun Jin, you are performing soon, and your friends want to help you fix it correct? I'll pay a room for you in the Yanshang Teahouse and have someone bring over any material you might need."

This was a real lucky break, but Keqing keeps glancing at you, as if she knows or wants something. Everyone saw how the hatchling presented the horn to you, hopefully she's not suspecting you to be behind the Geo hatchlings attack.

Xinyan and Yun Jin are quick to agree as you all hurry to the teahouse. The hostess that you remember being really bitchy before Yelan took over was pleasant at the sight of the very popular vision holders. You ignore the side-eye she gives you as you all pile into a room.

Xinyan is creating a list of necassary materials to remedy Yun Jin's situation with Keqing as you clear the table of all the decorations. The whole next 10 minutes is a blur. The only thing you focus on is cleaning the blood from her outfit and repairing the holes as Yun Jin sits in front of a mirror in some spare clothes. Xinyan is focused on redoing the hairstyle.

Keqing only stopped to drop off the supplies before leaving for work. She didn't ask you anything but the way she stared at you whenever she thought you weren't looking says otherwise. Knowing your luck, Ningguang will have heard of this too. And being in the teahouse that Yelan owns? Yeah, you're screwed.

Deciding to push it to the back of your mind, you focus on the dress in your hands that's almost done being repaired. You were no professional sewer, you just had so much practice in sewing your clothes that this came easily to you. Same with your make-up skills, your job on Earth required you to constantly change faces. So, your make-up skills were more in the contouring section. Always used to obscure your features rather than enhance them.

The dress looks brand-new as you examine it closely for any signs of imperfection. Satisfied at your job you stand up and go over to the duo. They've been chatting about how the Heyu Tea House owner would react to Yun Jin arriving so close to the beginning of the opera.

"Sorry to interrupt but I finished fixing your dress. Do you want me to help you with your make-up or are you all good?"

Yun Jin jumps at your appearance and nearly drops the brush she was using.

"Thank you so much!... Y/N? I'm so sorry I never even got to properly introduce myself to you and you were still kind enough to help me. Is there any way I can repay you for all you've done for me?"

You smile gently at the formal woman as she stresses out over her lack of manners. What a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter.

"Please don't worry about that. You're a friend of Xinyan's right? I came on the Alcor with Xinyan, and I was more than happy to help. The situation earlier left everyone quite frazzled. I really don't need anything as repayment. I just hope you can make it to your show in time."

Yun Jin only looks more regretful at your generous wish. Xinyan finishes her hair and scoots back as she grabs the hat. She takes the sewing needle you were using earlier and begins to repair the hanging tassels.

"Don't feel bad Yun Jin, Y/N is a good person! I never got to tell you in detail how the trip with the Crux went this time but after your show I can tell you all about it. Ya know that oracle I mentioned before? Y/N is that oracle!"

Careful not to mess up her hair, you begin applying the red eyeshadow as Yun Jin puts on the light red tinted lipstick. "Is that really true? I'm not doubting you, it's just incredible to hear."

"Yes, to put it simply I tend to resemble the creator due to the powers I'm granted. One of the major ones is how I can connect with the creatures of this world." Your downcast eyes make Yun Jin send you a worried look.

"Is something wrong Y/N?"

"It's just that I think the geovishap hatchling may have sensed the creator's presence on me and instead of attacking me like they do to the awakened acolytes, it reacted weirdly. I think the Yuheng may be under the belief that I did something to make them react like that."

You finish applying it and lean away from Yun Jin. The girls share a look with each other and begin reassuring you that there's no way you would get in trouble. It's when you hear a particular sentence from Yun Jin that your pursed lips curl into a grateful smile.

"I have a performance that requires me to speak with Keqing tomorrow, I can explain your oracle status and clear up any misunderstandings that may have arisen."

"I would be so thankful for that Yun Jin! You would really be my hero."

Calling her a hero makes her pale cheeks heat up a little as she stands up.

"Think nothing of it Y/N. Now I believe everything is repaired and ready. I'll change and meet you outside as soon as I possibly can."

Smiling happily, you wave with Xinyan and leave to the entrance of the Teahouse. Xinyan pats you on the back with an ecstatic smile.

"We might be able to arrive on time, we really couldn't have done it without you Y/N. If you have time, would ya like to watch her show with me? The final act usually has a quick recap and the story in this one is pretty simple."

Xinyan looks at you with expectant eyes as you remember her telling Yun Jin that she wouldn't be able to attend. What made her change her mind?

"That sounds like fun! I've never seen an opera before, would I need to buy tickets?"

"Don't worry about that! Yun Jin always has private tickets for anyone she wants to personally invite. I don't usually go since I've never been too fond of opera, but I want to support Yun Jin. It would be a lot more fun with you."

Yun Jin comes out at that exact moment looking nearly identical to her pre-attacked appearance. Xinyan keeps her fingers to her lips signaling to keep your agreement a secret. You nod back to her; it was nice seeing them get along so well.

Getting there at the last second, the troupe calls her over in a hurry. Yun Jin can only briefly wave goodbye before disappearing behind the topaz curtain.

The Heyu Tea House was packed to say the least. Fighting through the people, you and Xinyan managed to find a seat close enough that Yun Jin would notice you both immediately.

Eyes stare at your table or rather at Xinyan. You had only gotten this seat because they moved away in fear without either of you doing anything. Not that you were complaining, if they wanted to be chicken then that's on them.

If only they stopped glaring at Xinyan for simply existing. Now doesn't that bring up memories of your own childhood. No one really liked being saddled with the orphan kid.

Xinyan doesn't even react and only smiles when the curtain pulls away to reveal a few backup dancers and Yun Jin posing. Her voice rings out in Chinese as they start dancing and performing in harmony.

You don't miss how her eyes light up at the sight of you and Xinyan watching from the table. A separate narrator begins to recap the previous acts.

"A chameleon with no one and nothing left. What a pitiful existence. Yet it strives for some meaning or person to live for, it works tirelessly each day. Changing its colors, it's position and its soul for that singular purpose. Taken advantage by each animal requesting a color. At long last it's used every color and been rejected by each one. So now it's left to wonder; what color was its true color?"

Each animal that had taken advantage of the chameleon appears in costume around Yun Jin. The lanterns dim as the moon starts to rise setting a perfect backdrop.

The singing slows down as Yun Jin speaks mournfully.

"Not a single color keeps them with me. No matter how hard I try to blend in, to be accepted it is but a lost cause. Should I find my original color and live all alone? Or should I give one last ditch effort?"

Colored lights and decorations spin around Yun Jin at her last line. When it's pulled away her hat had changed to a multicolored fan of hairpins. A long robe covered her dress with flags in each color stood proud fanning out from behind her.

Her singing is high-pitched and melancholic. All the other animal performers crowd around her as she sings. After each verse she belts out and poses, they briefly stop and bow to her.

You couldn't understand what was being said but judging by their actions, it seemed the animals finally accepted the chameleon due to the rainbow of colors.

A last long note as the animals pose in various positions around her until only the moon shines down on Yun Jin. She looks up at the moon as she starts her speech with an empty voice that rises with emotion.

"I am loved, adored, and nearly worshipped so why am I as lonely as before? If the only difference between the me before and the me now is the color, I display then is my color the only reason they love me? Is this the life I want? Is this the love I desire!?"

The drums beat and the music rings louder. The animal performers move away in a fast pace as Yun Jin tears off each flag. The animals scramble to pick each colored flag and hold it out to Yun Jin but she ignores them. Instead, she grabs the hairpin on her head and tears it off.

The animals run around her in a dance as longer flags that cover the sight of her fly around. When she's revealed she's back in her normal clothes and a single dagger lies in her grasp.

"If that is the only way I will ever be loved then this life of mine is as useless as my colors."

With a single motion the dagger is 'stabbed' into her heart, and she falls backwards with the animal performers catching her. They gently set her 'dead' body on the ground and mourn her. The curtains close and the audience erupts into cheers.

You clap and smile as the curtains open and the performers bow with Yun Jin in the front. For reasons unknown to you, the play had shaken your heart like an earthquake to a fragile little house.

Xinyan excitedly congratulates Yun Jin as you compliment her as well. Cotten in your ears make what they're saying muffled. Smiling you say your goodbyes and leave them. The ghost of Xinyan's hand reaching for your shoulder is ignored.

Instead you focus on what matters, your identity and living situation. Yun Jin already agreed to clear up the situation with Keqing, the horn given to you was safely in your bag, your job with the Guild was confirmed, and you avoided any high-profile acolytes that you're wary of.

Hopefully Yelan will never investigate you seeing as you stayed at the Yansheng Teahouse.

Out of curiosity you check the price of a week at a small motel. You promptly leave after they tell you it would cost 210,000 mora for a single week. If you paid that, you'd be fresh out of money by the end of the month. Things were expensive since it's Liyue but that was just too much.

You make your way to the bridge where the whole geovishap hatchling murder happened. Sleeping in the tent you bought is the much smarter and better financial decision... Even if it was the more dangerous one.

Not a single soul is around as you cross the bridge. The grass crunches under your shoes as the uneven stone makes your footsteps ring out in the night air. It turns into a dirt path and the city lights fade from how far you've gone.

Lighting the candle in your lantern you hold it out in front of you as you continue walking. The path splits and you stay on the right side due to the faint lanterns that are hung around that direction.

Cobblestone patio on the left and two huge identical stone statues on the right can be seen as you stand in the middle. The spot of dirt you choose to camp out on the patio gives you a perfect view of the statues. The mist flower and what you think is an adepti machine goes ignored.

It's been a quite a few years since you've ever had to put up a tent. But the survival skills come back to you quickly. With the tent set up and a small campfire going, you set a pot over it.

Swiftly you open the game screen and find the needed recipes for any simple food to make. The matsutake potatoes and meat are put into the pot and you turn your head to grab a plate. You aren't surprised to see it already done when you turn back.

You gobble down most of the matsutake meat rolls and stop when the bushes on your left begin to shake. Freezing mid-bite, you stare at the bush intently. When something begins to tumble out of it you jump to your feet and summon your sickle.

An unfortunately familiar bronze creature unravels itself from its ball and stares at you innocently. That damn geovishap hatchling has appeared again.

Sighing you flop back onto the ground with no fear. It may not have crimson liquid staining its body, but the smell of copper was still strong. There was no way it's not the hatchling you met in the city.

It creeps closer to you with every passing second. You can see the marks from Keqing's sword and electro cover its bedrock body. Taking pity on the poor hatchling, it's still a baby after all, you pat the spot beside you.

With a happy growl it sits next to you, and you give it the last of the meat rolls. Happy noises escape it as it carefully takes the food from your hands and eats it. That seems to have completely softened the reptile as it snuggles into your side.

Despite what it did earlier, your heart melts like wax under the sun, and you pet its head. You scold it in a faint voice.

"You shouldn't go into the city, it's dangerous. Now that your friend is gone, it'll be easier for you to get hurt. Stay close with your family so that you don't get hurt."

It's eyes close and it whimpers. It may not understand your words, but the main message seemed to have resonated with it. Your hand brushes against one of its injuries and it flinches.

Should you use some of the ointment from your medical kit to help it? With purpose you drag your finger lightly over its cuts and scraped areas. The wounds begin to glow gold and you close your eyes from the brightness.

Once it dims you open them to see the injuries healed.

Being the creator is one thing, but being the equivalent of a Statue of the Seven to the creatures is another. You're basically capable of healing everything but yourself!

The brief annoyance fades into fondness as the hatchlings springs up and rolls around in happiness. A sudden wave of exhaustion hits you making you groan and struggle to stand up.

You put out the fire and crawl into the tent, the bed is welcomed after such an exhausting day. The rough ground beneath the thin bedding and cold air nipping your skin brings back memories of the years you spent sleeping in alleyways and parks.

Maybe comparing yourself to a Statue of a Seven was more accurate than you thought. As the creator you shouldn't be this exhausted after healing minor wounds. So, it would make sense that you would need to practice or gain more power through touching the Statues of the Seven in order to heal more without getting exhausted.

Your train of thoughts slow down as sleep overtakes you. The faint thudding of the hatchling outside makes you feel somewhat safe. Is this life something you'll truly get used to? Or will you end up giving up like the chameleon?

And it's done! Now that Y/N has some freedom, I can start implemeting certain game ascepts. And if I don't enter specific ones then I probably forgot so feel free to comment any that you would want to see! This chapter was supposed to be just a nice day of touring Liyue and the geovishap hatchling was supposed to be annoying/cute and progress the plot. But damn did it get darker. I do want to say that Kazuha's last line wasn't him removing himself from his obsession. Kazuha is a very self-reflective character and all that he's gone through has added to that. I originally was going to have the opera nameless and just a quick description less show, but I had fun writing one that would fit with the plot. Welp time to finish 100% the Summer event! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

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myownwholewildworld · 1 month

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wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 8

chapter 7 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 9

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: when death comes knocking, you can only answer the door.

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek where do i even start 🥺 i’m just gonna say i’m sorry in advance and leave it at that, but if you read between lines you’ll understand. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! they do keep me motivated. as always, THANK YOU for reading. see you on the other side! x

warnings: 18+, mdni. a LOT of angst and drama incoming. cutesy fluff. established relationship (my babies 😭). no smut in this one, don’t hate me! mentions of alcoholism and drugs as coping mechanisms. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). clickers steal the show 😖. death everywhere so be warned. swear words. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n. joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~5k.

tags aka the drama wagon (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

The patrolling shifts had increased around Chicago River and Interstate 90. The Rioters had allocated more resources to survey the borders of the area their people inhabited. In the following days to your disastrous incursion, clickers’ activity had peaked. They were coming closer, so it was decided to dispatch them as they neared.

You were all tired, but there was no rest for the wicked. They kept on moving eastwards, as if something was calling them. No one had been able to figure out why, but the answer to that question didn’t really matter. You suspected that something happened that night at the hospital ― maybe Sasha and her team did something they shouldn’t have.

You would never know, so you tried to stir your thoughts away from what would remain a mystery.

You rolled on bed, the early morning light shining a ray on your face. You grunted in discomfort. Your whole body ached ― those patrols were physically intense, but also mentally exhausting. After all, the infected had been people. A father, an auntie, a brother-in-law, a loving child… All those stories were lost to the wind, and you just hoped there still were people who remembered them as they had been before succumbing to the fungus.

You pouted ― That wasn’t how you wanted to start your day.

Still sleepy, your hand dabbed the bedsheets on your right, unconsciously looking for him.

Joel wasn’t by your side. You frowned in confusion and sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes. As you got up and walked towards the en-suite, you heard Joel and Tommy talking on the other side of the door, where the living room was.

It was a heated argument ― an everyday occurrence lately. Since you three arrived at Chicago almost five months ago, the brothers appeared to headbutt very often. It didn’t take you long to realise that Tommy’s attitude had gradually changed over time, the alcohol being the main culprit. The bubbly, kind Tommy you had come to meet was buried somewhere underneath that ethanolic stench.

You missed his jests, his nonchalance, his light-heartedness. Buy you did understand him too ― he needed an escape from reality. You all did, really. It was just sad that was his choice of inflicting himself with absent-mindedness.

“You spent the night in the fucking cell, really?”, you heard Joel whisper angrily.

Tommy replied, but his speech was so slurred you couldn’t make out his answer.

“I don’t fucking care for your excuses anymore, Tommy, you need to get your shit together. I need you sober, for fuck’s sake ― the situation is getting dire here, we’ll need to leave soon. In this state, you can barely walk”, you knew Joel was getting frustrated attempting to reason with the younger Miller.

You contained a fatigued sigh ― Joel had tried his best these past months to help Tommy straighten out his path. But you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped. You just wished Joel understood that. But you knew he wouldn’t give up on his brother so easily. His only living relative.

You sauntered towards the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You were in the middle of doing so when you heard Joel enter the room. His reflection appeared in the mirror in front of you and you smiled at him, your mouth full of toothpaste. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly as he placed a heavy hand on the small of your back, his lips brushing your right temple. You closed your eyes at the soothing touch. You quickly bent over to spit the toothpaste and rinse your mouth.

“He’ll come around”, you said as his hand draped around your waist, yours stroking his forearm instinctively.

Joel humphed. “I hope so”, he muttered, his mouth pressed against your crown. “It’s not safe here anymore, darlin’, I think we should head somewhere else”.

“I hear Canada is lovely this time of the year”, you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. His expression didn’t flinch ― worry distorting his rugged, gorgeous face. “I know, I know… Could we wait a few days at least? Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve”, you blinked at him.

He considered it for a few seconds before giving in. “Alright, we’ll leave on the twenty sixth”.

You clapped your hands together, a smile widening your features. Joel cocked an inquiring brow.

“Well, Joyce is throwing a party on Christmas Day at hers and, uhmm, I kinda told her we were coming?”. His brow furrowed even more. “Pretty please?”, you begged, your fingers laced in a prayer.

You knew Joel didn’t like socialising nor big gatherings, but it was just one teeny tiny ask. You flashed your eyelashes at him.

“Okay, it won’t hurt, I guess”, he conceded reluctantly.

With an excited squeal, you turned around in his embrace, circling his neck with your arms. You stood on your tiptoes as Joel leaned forward to kiss you.

The day went by slowly. You had been assigned to the evening patrol ― your hunting duties put on hold until further notice. With all this clickers’ activity, it wasn’t safe to venture out. To your dislike, Joel had been in the afternoon one, so you kissed him goodbye when you took over. At least Tommy was with you.

You were stationed in the bridge on West Madison Street, the Lyric Opera of Chicago to your right. There was a total of ten people in your group, each one of you covering different positions. When clickers approached, you shot them through the rifle scope. It had become a mindless game, like the one you used to play in the arcade when you were younger ― Wolfenstein 3D.

Hours had gone by, and you had been standing up for so long that your feet hurt. You eyed the red, thick metal railing to your left and, with a little jump, you sat on top ― your legs dangling in front of you, facing southwards and the rifle conveniently placed on your lap. Tommy joined you a few minutes later.

He remained silent and so did you. Although he was somewhat sober, you could smell the alcohol on him. It was bad enough that he drank himself to oblivion in his free time, but it was not great he came to patrol with dulled senses.

You took a deep breath.

“Your brother needs you, y’know?”, you said with resignation. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, but you could see the pain in them. “We’ll be leaving in three days, Tommy, and we both need you. This reckless path of yours could have dreadful consequences, not only for us, but for yourself… We are both here to help you out, but you’re shutting us out ― Joel is worried sick and, to be honest, so am I. And I get it, this world sucks… but you’ve got us. The people you are meeting up with… They aren’t good for you.”

He didn’t say a word for a long minute. It was probably not fair of you to pester him with your not-so-uplifting speech, but he needed to hear it. As much as you liked Tommy, what troubled you the most was that it would destroy Joel if he lost Tommy too. It had taken him a long time to open up, to start living again, and Tommy was undoing all that hard work Joel had put in.

He sighed heavily, turning to look at you.

“Do I? And please don’t get me wrong ― I’m happy for both of you. But you’ve got Joel and Joel’s got you. Again, nothing wrong with that, but it sometimes feels lonely, y’know? That’s what drove me to Laney and her group, they get me. Yeah, sure, the alcohol, the drugs ― it ain’t great, but it helps. But I know I need to get my shit together, believe me, I do, it’s just… hard”, he shrugged.

Your eyes softened, downcast expression. You knew you were just brushing the surface; it wasn’t just that he felt left out. This new world was devastating, it toyed with your mind, making you believe things that were never really there ― a figment of your imagination, of your worst fears.

You palmed his forearm to cheer him up.

“As hard as it is, I’m sure you’ll still come out the other end just fine”, you smiled, but he was evading your eyes. “You only need to reach out, Tommy. We’re here for whatever you need of us.”

You got home past midnight. You were so worn out, you just whispered goodbye to Tommy and headed towards your shared bedroom with Joel. The handle made a screeching noise, then the door creaked when you pushed it. You scrunched your face in frustration ― you didn’t want to wake Joel up if he had fallen asleep. He had trouble in doing so, his nightmares still haunted him.

You quietly closed the door behind you. The room was dark, the silence only broken by his faint snoring. You grinned ― he did snore, as much as it pained him to admit it. Tiptoeing towards your end of the bed, you scattered your clothes on the floor. Only wearing your panties, you sneaked under the bedsheets. There was no heating, but Joel’s body radiated enough warmth to keep you both cozy for the whole night ― so you curled up against his back, nipples grazing his bare skin, your left arm around his waist and your hand gently pressed against his chest. You could feel his ribcage raising with every breath he took.

He lulled you to sleep, your mind slowly drifting away. He really was your safe haven.

You smiled absentmindedly, a snug sentiment weighing in your belly. You kissed him where his shoulder blades met and whispered, “I love you.”

Maybe he dreamt it. He was not sure.

Maybe his unconsciousness made it up. He was not sure.

However it came to be, that “I love you” had been haunting his mind the whole day. His chest felt tight, a longing ache lodged in his core. Joel had not been able to get rid of that feeling ― being honest, he didn’t want it to disappear. As much as it was painful, it was also hopeful.

His heart fluttered with yearning at the memory, only coming back to reality when you elbowed his side. He had not heard what you said, but your features had lit up with your laugh. The biggest muscle in his chest skipped a beat at such beautiful melody.

“I bet you were the taciturn type as a kid, right, Joel?”, Joyce asked him, question marks dancing in her pupils.

“I was a normal, boring kid. Played a bit of baseball and went on a few fishing trips with our old man, but that’s about it. So yeah, I guess taciturn covers it”, he replied, spooning the stew into his mouth.

Tommy huffed taking a sip of the moonshine in his cup, but didn’t say anything.

The three of you ―Joel, Tommy and yourself― were in the canteen in the Art Institute of Chicago. Joyce, her granddaughter Ava, Walter and a few others were sat around the table, everyone sharing funny snippets of their childhood. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, which seemed to have lightened the mood a bit, some people had even sang some Christmas carols.

“What about you, sweet pea?”, Joyce turned her attention to you.

“I was a weird kid”, you admitted with a laugh. “Used to love bugs, and I really mean love bugs. I had a huge terrarium, a beautiful ant’s nest. I used to go out and picked some of them off the anthill in our backyard to bring them to my colony. Not gonna lie, it was fascinating seeing how the ants would work together to build their little glass community”, you shared while devouring Joyce’s stew. “Then one day, quite a few ants bit me as I was trying to relocate them to a different part of the terrarium, and they fucked me up real bad. Got a terrible infection, was in hospital for two weeks. When I came back, the whole colony was dead, my parents didn’t even let me have a look at it. It was heartbreaking. After that, I steered clear of any type of bugs. I cared for them, even named every one of them, and that’s how they paid me in return? Little bastards”, you cackled, shaking your head.

“You were indeed weird, sweetheart”, Joel muttered so low, you thought you were the only one who heard it.

You patted his hand with a chuckle, unconsciously leaning towards him, your shoulders touching. You always gravitated towards Joel, you just couldn’t control it. Your eyes met and you giggled ― his smirk widened.

“Guilty”, you whispered, his hand enveloping yours under the table.

You had forgotten Joyce was sat across you until she cleared her throat.

“So, you two lovebirds are a couple yet, or what?”, her not-so-innocent question caught you completely off guard.

Shit, shit, you thought, almost choking on your food. You had not talked to Joel about what you two really were. You loved him wholeheartedly, but you didn’t need to put a label to your relationship. At least not yet. You didn’t want to pressure him ― you knew Joel would come around when he was ready.

“Uh, well, we…”, you stammered, your heart racing so fast you thought you were going to throw it up in your bowl.

Joel’s hand gripped yours tighter.

“Yeah, we are”, he replied, matter-of-factly.

Your soul literally left your body. You scrutinised his face in awe ― your lips dissevered, sparkly eyes, speechless. A wave of relief washed over you. He did love you; you just knew it in your heart. The immense love you suddenly felt almost throttled you. If your brain was a functioning organ, you would have hugged and reciprocated him ― but your mind was still short-circuiting.

Joel’s hazel eyes held yours prisoner. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he didn’t need to be ― his orbs spoke for him. They were soft, tender, loving. You heard Joyce’s snicker, but your eyes could not leave Joel’s. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn’t ― your heart was drowning in oxytocin.

“Why do you look so surprised, sweet pea?”, said the older woman, hardly containing a guffaw.

Before you could find any words to answer Joyce, a shrieking cry disrupted the festive atmosphere. People got up a few tables away from you, screaming so loud you couldn’t make out their words.

A few seconds later, another commotion took place but from the other end of the room.

“Infected! They are infected!”, someone shouted.

Panic spread quickly. People started running, cramming around the two exits. Pushing their way out, elbowing anyone in their way with no regards to children or the elderly. Then you saw a young girl in the middle of a circle, people trying to keep their distance from her. You recognised her from the patrols but couldn’t remember her name.

Then she propelled forward, tackling a man to the ground. He screeched loudly, trying to free himself.

“No, get away from me! Aaaarghhh!”, then silence.

You had gotten up. More cries came from the opposite direction, but you didn’t dare to look. Joel’s hand on your shoulder forced you out of your trance, and you turned to look at him.

His expression was a reflection of yours for a fraction of a second. The fear, but then the resolution.

“Move, move, we gotta go. Tommy?!”, his hands were on your back, pushing you to walk in front of him.

The younger Miller went in front of you, gun on hand, to find the way out. Then you remembered the firearm in your belt and swiftly gripped it. You were about to run behind Tommy when you realised. Suddenly stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face Joel. You looked at him intently, then to Joyce and her granddaughter.

You couldn’t leave them behind. Joyce was the best person you had known in a while. She was like family to you. And you had already lost all of your blood relatives. Joel had one look at you and understood you were not going to accept no for an answer.

“Joyce! Ava! C’mon!”, he shouted while approaching them. Joel picked up little Ava in his arms while Joyce ran towards you, thick tears blurring her vision.

You held Joyce’s trembling hand as Tommy guided you out of the building onto South Michigan Avenue. You looked back a few times, ensuring Joel was right behind you. Ava was sobbing loudly, her tiny face against the curve of Joel’s neck, wetting his t-shirt. The fearful look in his eyes told you a sad story ― you knew exactly who he was thinking of. A gut-wrenching feeling sat in the pit of your stomach.

The streets were crammed with people, everyone screaming names at the top of their lungs. You recognised a few faces: Walter, Eric and his mother, Troy, Kelsey…

“They’re coming through the bridge on West Adams Street!”, someone wailed.

All of you looked in that direction and saw a massive herd of clickers galloping towards you.

“RUN!”, you shouted at your group, pulling Joyce’s hand.

You all ran northwards, across Millenium Park. You could feel your lungs burning, your brain entering fight-or-flight mode, your heart racing so fast you were on the verge of having a cardiac arrest. But none of that mattered ― you were focused on getting out of there, all of you. Tommy, Joel, Joyce, Ava, yourself. You were going to make it out.

“Go to William Fahey bridge, it’s closer!”, Tommy yelled once on East Wacker Drive.

More clickers were coming towards you from the west ― you heard someone around you say that all the bridges on North Wacker Drive were packed with infected.

“They’re here! THEY’RE COMING!”, Joyce wept.

The whole moment was so hectic, with no time to process what was happening. You all sprinted to the only bridge in the hands of the government ― you had no other option. You were almost halfway through the bridge, just a few yards more and you would be on the other side.

As you were racing, you heard a gunshot behind you. You came to a sudden stop to check, letting go of Joyce’s hand ― Joel had just dispatched a clicker which had come too close.

“Joel! Come on!”, you begged, getting closer to grab him by his free forearm.

Then you saw them. Waves of clickers coming towards you, people falling to their demises. Your eyes widened, terror pumping through your veins. You shot a few of them, your aim perfect. But there were too many to fight, fleeing was your only real option.

“Don’t stop! Let’s fucking go!”, Tommy howled, waving at you.

Then chaos unfolded. Gunshots swirled around you. You all ducked behind a car to avoid the trajectory of the bullets ― the government soldiers were shooting to whoever attempted to cross the bridge, clickers and humans alike.

“Help!”, a cry to your left made you turned around in a panic.

Joyce was flat on her back, fighting off an infected. You couldn’t think, so you just reacted ― you leaped forwards, tackling the clicker. Knelt on top of it, its disgusting teeth snapped close to your hand. You felt a brief pang on your wrist as you lodged a bullet in its forehead.

With tears darkening your vision, you came off it and crawled to Joyce. Her eyes, devoid of life, stared at the cloudy, dusking sky. Her lifeless expression was filled with terror, tears still running down her cheeks. Blood was surging from her neck ― unconsciously, you covered the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“No, Joyce, come on, wake up”, you whispered, grief tugging at your lungs.

She could not be gone just like that. But she was. Joyce was dead.

“Up! Lift the bridge!”, a man’s voice was carried by the wind.

Suddenly, the ground underneath you started moving up, the bridge parting exactly where you were. With no time to think, Joyce’s body rolled off the edge into the river as you tried to hold on to something to avoid the same destiny.

That something was Joel’s firm grip on your arm. His eyes wild with dread, he pulled you up and back into his arms. His trembling breath caressed your temple as he hugged you tightly. You knew he was as scared as you were, albeit for different reasons.

But there was no time for the shock to wear off. Off the corner of your eye, you saw little Ava running towards the edge, kneeling on the border, her tiny hand reaching into the abyss underneath. “Nana! Come back, nana!”, her wailing tone gave you goosebumps.

“No!”, you and Joel shouted at the same time, both lunging forward towards her.

And then she was gone too. The rotten hand of a clicker wrapped around her tiny wrist, and she fell off the bridge. Her piercing shriek was still ringing in your ears.

Joel and you remained flat against the asphalt, disheartened and broken.

“I had to let go of her for one second, you were falling, I―”, his voice faltered, his eyes broadened with remorse, transfixed on the exact spot Ava had disappeared from.

He was reliving his worst nightmare again. Your heart bled for him. For Joyce, for Ava. For yourself.

“Joel, don’t―”, you couldn’t finish. Don’t do this to yourself, you wanted to say.

“Get up! MOVE!”, Tommy shouted.

He had fended off the clickers who made it across the bridge before it was lifted. You hadn’t realised his efforts until you swept your surroundings and saw the bodies littered around you. Joel shook his head to clear his mind, casting off all emotions, and got up to his feet, helping you up in the process.

Then the three of you started running towards East Illinois Street while the government soldiers kept the clickers at bay as some of them tried to jump from one side of the bridge to the other ― this time, at least, they were aiming better than they did before.

You were still in living hell, with no chance to digest what had happened yet. It was like walking blindly through the darkness, unable to find the switch to turn on the lights. Your emotions had deserted you, at least for the time being. You needed to find shelter before you could shatter.

You raced for what felt like hours but was only minutes. You turned the corner on Erie Street, near Northwestern Hospital. The streets were filled with soldiers and uniformed police, shouting directions at the unhinged mass of people who were trying to find cover.

You stopped running, feeling like fire was consuming your lungs. Joel and Tommy stopped too to catch a breath. You bent over, hands on your knees, to aid your uncontrolled breathing ― Joel’s hand rubbed your back.

“Laney, wait up”, you heard Tommy say, and supposed that Laney and her group had made it out too.

You frowned when you saw blood dripping from your inner wrist on to your jeans. You turned your hand around to check the wound out.

Your breath didn’t reach your lungs. Teeth marks were imprinted on your skin, a grotesque sight. Your heart came to a halt, and then it pounded so hard your ears rang.

I’ve been bit, you thought, realisation dawning on you. Fuck, I’m bit.

Even though you were internally panicking like you had never before, you straightened your back and looked at Joel blankly. It felt like it wasn’t you who was talking, as if you were seeing yourself from outside your own body.

“Joel, I’ve been bit”. Your voice didn’t feel yours ― calm, ethereal.

He was watching his brother walk away, and then his eyes darted to yours in less than a second. His pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared, his lips pursed. A vein twitched in his jaw, his anxiety peaking to the highest level possible. You saw his hand shaking when he grabbed your wrist to inspect it himself.

Joel didn’t say a word. He didn’t have time to do so. You hadn’t realised that Tommy had stopped walking towards Laney and had drawn his gun as he was retracing his steps back to where you were.

“Joel, move”, the barrel was pointing at you, his hand steady.

Panic set in. Was he really going to shoot you? Just like that? Like your life didn’t matter at all? Like he wasn’t your esteemed friend? In front of Joel? Was this how you were going to die after all?

Questions flooded your mind, death knocking at your door.

Joel positioned his body in between you and Tommy ― one hand reaching back to keep you behind him, the other one in front of him at waist level, palm down, to keep Tommy away.

“Tommy, please―”, he implored in a hush.

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his features were torn. His defeated tone ate at your conscience.

“She’s been bit, Joel. She ain’t coming with us, she can’t”, as much as Tommy wanted to convey a reassuring tone, he couldn’t.

Why was he talking like you were not there, like if you were already gone?

“Tommy, don’t do this. I lov―”, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Don’t say it, she’s dead”, Tommy cut him off before Joel could finish his appeal. “If you stay, you’re going to die. Come with me please, we’ll go with Laney and her group, we’ll survive this. You will survive this”, he nodded in your direction.

You were “this”. He was telling Joel he would get over you once you were dead. And you wanted him to listen. You were doomed, there was no coming back from this. You had seen people turn ― you had a couple of days tops before you would get lost to the fungus. Some people only lasted hours. If he stayed by your side to see you wither away… it would break him. For good.

“Joel, listen―”, you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his wrist ― a silent plea dying in your lips.

“No, don’t say a word”, he barely looked over his shoulder, unable to face you yet. “Tommy, I can’t. I just can’t”, he said under his breath.

“Choose then. Either you’re coming with me or you’re staying with her. But I won’t stay by your side to see you destroy yourself.”

An anxious knot formed in your throat. Was Tommy really going to make Joel choose between you and him? That was so fucking cruel you couldn’t believe your ears. You gaped, trying to say something, but Joel took a step back which forced you to do the same.

“Tommy, are you fucking serious?”, Joel asked, a shift in his tone from incredulity to betrayal.

“There’s your answer, I guess”, the younger Miller replied angrily.

Tommy simply walked off, not looking back, not even once.

Both Joel and you froze in place for a long minute, trying to wrap your heads around what just happened.

Your eyes drifted back down to the wound. Pus and blood oozed out. Your chest heaved, reality setting in. You were going to die. This was not what you had in mind for Christmas. How could this happen? Why you? Even with your mind racing with trepidation, you didn’t regret killing that clicker. What you lamented was that it had been for naught ― Joyce and Ava were dead.

“Hey, look at me”, Joel’s voice brought you back. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs sweeping away tears you were not aware of. “Look at me”, he repeated.

You looked up at him through damp eyelashes, memorising his face. His beautiful brown eyes were swirling with shock, with pain, with darkness, with guilt, with loss. His jaw was so clenched his lips were just a fine line. You momentarily shut your eyes, nestling your cheek into his hand before kissing his palm and taking a step back.

You could not look at him directly. The pain was too grave, too profound ― so insatiable it was consuming you. “You gotta go, Joel. Tommy is right. I’m… I’m dead. It’s just a matter of days, maybe hours. You can’t stay. You can’t follow me where I’m going.” The words escaped your mouth in shortened bursts, unable to keep a steady tone.

He took a step forward and cupped your chin, forcing your head up. His sad eyes captivated you, pulling you into their orbits, as if you were a tiny meteor dancing around too close to the black hole of his irises.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Even to the fucking edge of the atlas”, he muttered breathlessly. “I love you, so don’t ask me to leave you behind. I’m staying, till the bitter fucking end”, your heart dropped to your stomach at his confession.

This was not how you had expected things to be. You were supposed to have time with each other, all the time in the fucking world. And that time had just been snatched from you mercilessly.

Life was so fucking unjust.

You couldn’t stop the tears any longer ― they overflowed your waterlines, your vision so smeared you couldn’t see his face anymore. Your head tilted forward, until your face was buried in his chest.

Joel hugged you tightly, feeling like he was starring in a twisted horror movie. A dark void had replaced his heart, which had been completely ripped off his chest. He was barren inside. His breaths were shallow, they didn’t even reach his lungs.

Had he forgotten how to breathe?

“We need to get off the streets”, he managed to mumble, holding your hand and taking you away.

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