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thesunloveschips · 22 days ago

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Obsessed - Part 5 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: We continue the sex from where we left off previously.

A/n: Apologies for the delay. I was genuinely worried about whether this chapter was going to be good enough. Thankfully, @findingstephanie and @div94 were a huge help. ✨✨ Everybody clap for them because the smut is now smuttier. (I'll be crying in the corner for the contribution of the Internet in uniting smut lovers)

Warnings: smut, full-blown smut, like Azriel throwing reader around kinda smut, oral sex (male & female receiving), Azriel's tattooed chest, minors please stay away.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

“Wrap your legs around me.” Azriel ordered, unyielding and firm.

He didn’t look like the composed man whom she’d dined with or went grocery shopping. He was unhinged, deranged even.

Y/n complied as she brought her hands behind his neck.

He lifted Y/n, his hands under her thighs, and walked towards his bedroom.

The feel of his hands on her skin made her bury her face in his neck because how large were those hands?

She imagined how well those hands would grab her breasts and ass. How spectacularly he’d spank her.

And that hand and those tattooed fingers wrapped around her throat while he fucked her stupid was. . . An aroused Azriel looked like he’d do all that and much more.

And she wanted all that and much more.

It was dizzying to be held tightly as he lifted her, when her breasts were against him. And from the way he glanced at her upon that contact, he was also affected by it.

This man was large. Intimidatingly so.

So what about his cock?

That painful bulge on his pants was enough to make her nervous.

But gods, she wanted it. She’d cry and beg for it.

She wanted to be railed till she couldn’t understand anything other than him.

She could see the startings of his tattoos which eventually descended and spread across his chest. The nape was inked here and there but his neck in general was clean, displaying his clear skin.

At this point, everything seemed to be a prelude to how frenziedly he’d fuck her and how willingly she’d submit.

The golden lighting was dim, perfectly complementing Azriel. The sheets were cold. Y/n was wearing only her panties when Azriel made her sit on the bed.

He now towered over her, putting all her fantasies to shame with his ravenous gaze.

That inked chest was a vision. An inspiration for images, each more provocative than the previous.

“Y/n?” She felt hot and light. So sensitive and drunk on his touch. Y/n really did but she really needed to be thoroughly fucked right now.

She was consumed by her lust enough that it was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything other than his touch.

“Stand up, sweetheart.” He kissed her deeply when she obeyed, maybe as a reward.

“Do you trust me?” He rasped like a cunning predator ready to ruin her to the ground.

“Yes.” She received a soft kiss in return for her compliance.

“Take off my belt.” Y/n blinked. She’d definitely read that line in a dark romance novel. When he pinched her nipple, she let out a surprised squeal.

What washed over her was so hot it was electric. It was so sudden and too powerful. She nodded and her hands rose, heading towards his belt.

Oh. Was he going to actually. . .

Was he going to be rough?

Would she get to taste his cock?

The idea of it excited her. She was now impatient.

This man, so perfectly crafted and intimidatingly large, desired her. And as she unbuckled his belt, Y/n felt confident. He was attracted to her.

She felt glorious as she eagerly unfastened his pants and pulled it down and his undershorts just enough. The raw desire between them, now a palpable thing.

The sight of his cock made her want to cry in gratitude because thank fuck for this unholy monument.

Her hand extended to touch it when Azriel caught her wrist. “No touching.” She looked back at him, offended by that. What was the point of getting here if they weren’t touching?

But then he leaned in and growled. “Kneel.”

****

Azriel had to remain in control. He knew that much. Y/n hadn’t had sex in a while so it would be inevitably painful for her in the beginning and he was determined to make her comfortable before he indulged.

But all that determination went out of the window when he saw her breasts against him as he took her to bed. And when he’d glanced at her and saw her peering up with eyes filled with confusion and trust, he faltered.

He was depraved and deprived and only determined only to fuck her like a primeval creature. But he couldn’t deny how much he adored this woman.

And while his desire battled with his worry for her, Y/n gave him no room to think any further when she obeyed him and kneeled. She was so good for him.

Azriel brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips before she opened it enough for it to slip in.

He felt the tip of her tongue against his thumb while his woman sat there innocently as if she wasn’t the reason his cock was raging and aching.

“Open.” Her lips parted and he saw that tongue. His hand impulsively went to the back of her head and brought her head closer to his cock.

He saw how her eyes widened, eager and afraid. And without any further instruction, her tongue darted out to lick him like an ice cream. From the bottom to the top. And she began teasing him around the tip.

Her hand gently took hold of his cock. She took her time to gather her saliva, spat on his cock, and used her hand to gently spread it.

Now, Y/n was a decently tall woman. There were few who were taller than her but she was so small compared to him. Small hands, small mouth, completely small.

She was too soft.

Too gentle.

He felt it acutely when her fingers teased over the veins of his cock, his grip on her hair tightening. Her tongue continued to lick him.

Y/n. . . his beautiful Y/n pushed her stray curls behind, as if preparing for something.

Azriel craned his neck when she sucked the tip with a wonderful amount of force. She was. . . heavenly. And such a dirty little girl.

He was this close to taking advantage of her hair in his hand. Of pushing his cock in. His knuckles were pale, veins pulsating as he tried to restrain himself from doing just that.

Her hand fisted the rest of his cock gently.

Too gently.

Oh.

His Y/n was a confident, cunning seductress out to hunt him and he was already bleeding on the ground for her.

“More, Y/n.”

He barely got the words out but the little minx looked up at him, removed his cock from her mouth, and looked at him all pretty with a coy smirk. “What?”

“Suck harder, sweetheart.” He repeated and brought his cock to her lips. And as soon as she opened her mouth, Azriel grabbed the back of her head and slammed in.

Y/n was so fucking pretty as those teary eyes looked up at him.

So fucking gorgeous.

Nearly naked and on her knees. At his mercy. He hadn’t planned on a blowjob right now but whatever they were headed for better than anything he’d planned.

All her whimpers and cries and her tears. And Azriel barely remembered that he wanted to come inside that sweet pussy first.

He remembered how tightly she’d clenched around his fingers. Gods, he was going to enjoy claiming her.

This beautiful woman, such a delicacy, he’d feast on her again and again.

He’d ruin her so well. So thoroughly she’d never even look at another man..

Or maybe he’d crawl to her since his desperation was already established.

But her mouth felt too good right now. Her face was so pretty as she struggled with his size, tears streaming down her cheeks. The look in her eyes made determined to unleash himself inside her pretty mouth.

And he gave and gave and wanted to give more and more and but not now.

He took out his cock, finally giving her enough time for breathing, and pulled her to her feet.

Fuck.

His Y/n. His woman. So fucking beautiful licking her lips. He had no other thought as he pulled her into a kiss.

He wanted to breathe this woman into him. All of her essence, his and his only.

With one hand grabbing her ass and the other buried in her thick hair supporting her head, Azriel asked. “That greedy for my cock, pretty girl?”

“Why didn’t you come in my mouth?” She was gasping for air.

“I plan to come in your pussy first. And when I want to, I’ll use your mouth. Is that clear?” But he kept looking at his lips, letting a thumb brush over them.

He’d take that mouth. Azriel would fuck her in the shower like that. And then he’d beg on his knees for Y/n to one day wake him up with a blowjob.

Y/n gave him a secret smile. He pulled her hair at the lack of an answer, baring her neck for his mouth. “Words, Y/n.”

“Yes, sir.” And any semblance of control he had was out of the window.

****

Azriel threw her on the bed and wasted no time in hovering over her. Y/n knew calling him sir had done it. She’d seen his eyes darken and her pussy ached.

Calling him sir seemed like the best idea she’d had recently. How much longer could she poke him before he fucked his life into her?

Azriel now kneeled at the side of the bed and she whined. His hands spread her for his convenience, threw her legs over his shoulders and he began feasting on her for the second time.

Her panties were ripped to shreds and discarded somewhere she couldn’t care about.

“Hanhhh.” And if there’s anything Y/n could say confidently right now, it was that Azriel had a very wicked mouth and an even wicked tongue.

His tongue moved over the slit, parted her, and easily found her clit as if he’d known her body for ages. He flicked her, teased her, again and again while her hands were clutching the sheets.

Her impatience rose and so did her excitement. She was so close and it was so easy. She’d been sensitised after the first time he ate her out at the table. “Az!”

Her head turned to the side every now and then, eyes shut, and she was begging for relief. To be finished and Azriel was determinedly pursuing her.

“Please, please, please, please, please.” Y/n cried loudly as she found her pleasure and shattered.

She was numb from it all. And just when she thought she couldn’t feel anything more, Azriel hovered over her, parted her legs and settled between them.

Y/n knew he was feral for her as he brought that delicious cock to her. She was aching, and absolutely ready to cry and scream if he began teasing instead of fucking her properly.

He closed in, bringing all of that heat with him to her breasts and abdomen. And he entered her surprisingly slowly. Azriel’s face displayed his pleasure—eyes shut tight, mouth open, quick breaths.

Y/n was, in simple terms, being split apart.

She took quick breaths, trying to cope with the pain and adjust to him. He was slowly sliding inside her, easing in.

Gods, Azriel was actually keeping his promise of fucking all the air out of her.

And fuck her all the way to her ass but Azriel looked way too alluring, lost out of his mind as pleasure enveloped in the form of her very own pussy.

A sense of pride bloomed in her for being the cause of his pleasure. But the pain kept returning and kept melting away the more he pushed in.

She didn’t realise that sex after a few months would hurt her. It didn’t matter how many fantasies she had of fictional characters or of random hot strangers.

She felt herself become sensitive. Y/n could feel her nipples against his sweaty chest, the press of his hard muscle against her soft curves.

And Azriel’s fingers began playing with a nipple while he sucked the other softly to ease her through it.

When he was completely nestled inside her, the best of sensations overwhelmed her.

For all his dominance, Azriel continued to be considerate and greatly restrained as he entered her slowly.

“Fuck.” The word sounded foreign to her due to its tone. He was now ready to let go. Y/n could feel it in his gaze, his warmth, and his touch.

And once she’d relaxed and found her pleasure, Y/n called him. “More, please.”

“All okay?” He stopped his ministrations on her breasts and rose to meet her.

This man now cradled her. And she loved it. And all her affections and desires for him became overwhelming and she was close to crying with how insanely good she felt.

“Yes. Move, Az.”

“Still greedy, I see.” He grinned wickedly, as if he was not sweating and desperate for her. Azriel pulled himself partially out of her cunt and she whined in complaint, not enjoying that.

Now, Y/n was not a virgin. Neither in body nor in spirit. She’d read more than enough and explored less than enough and was curious to explore.

And Azriel had a habit of empowering her in ways unknown.

Her legs were spread apart to accommodate him and now, she wrapped them around his hips.

A lustful groan escaped him when Y/n used her conjoined legs around his hips and pulled his cock further inside, moaning in satisfaction at the impact.

“You little demon.” His eyes blazed, acknowledging her lust for him and he thrusted in harshly, finding satisfaction in her moans.

“Fill me up.” They were three words. Three mere words. And he’d unleashed himself on her.

“I want you.” Another thrust. “Every.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Time.”

“And yet hhhanggh-” Her nails were now digging into his back. “You tease aahngh too much.”

“If you can speak, then I’m not doing my job so well.” Azriel removed himself from her. Y/n whined as he rose like a death god, dark and cruel, and removed his body and his heat away from her.

His hands settled on her hips and he flipped her so her ass was in the air now.

What was that?

What the fuck was that?

Why was that so hot?

Why was he- Y/n moaned when Azriel fucked into her in one smooth movement.

She was clenching his cock tightly. He pushed her head into the pillows and leaned, warming her body with his own. “Hold the pillows tight.”

And as he began to lose his control, his manners, and any sense of consideration, Y/n moaned and cried at his frenzied thrusts.

She knew nothing else but his cock as he slammed into her repeatedly, fucking her like nothing less than an insatiable beast.

Was she grabbing the sheets or the pillows? Y/n couldn’t comprehend or care for it.

All she cared for was this man on his knees behind her, so thoroughly claiming his ownership of her, making every inch of her his.

He was ensuring her body knew his grip on her hips, his cock in her pussy, his mouth on her neck, his breath against hers.

And for all that he had teased her for this long. . . well, there was no teasing in what he was doing at the moment as he thrusted ferociously.

She was crying again. Her eyes were hot and wet and the tears were already on the sheets. “Please.”

It was there. That spot he’d been wildly ramming into. Oh god, she was going to break. To crash into some place.

It was dizzying as she neared it.

“You like that?” She felt a harsh sting on her ass. He’d smacked her. She was probably reddening by now.

And when she didn’t answer, she felt his hand on her hair, wrapping it around his fist. Azriel pulled her hair, bringing Y/n easily up and his other hand wrapped around her throat to further support her against his chest. “Answer me.”

From this angle, she could see their conjoined shadow. Could see him pumping into her like a beast. Could see her breasts bounce wildly. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh fuck, yes!”

Azriel leaned towards her, the familiar feeling and warmth of his chest against her back so perfectly arched for him.

“Such.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Dirty.” Thrust. “Girl.” Thrust. “For me.”

He was so close to her and even then she wasn’t satisfied. She wanted him ingrained in her being. His touch and warmth.

The scent of sweat and sex was all around them. Azriel was still furiously thrusting his cock inside her and Y/n was blissfully moaning and falling and finally, she was shattering.

Even then, Azriel refused to let her go. Refused to let her breathe as he continued fucking her into her orgasm and beyond.

“No more.” Y/n wanted to breathe. At least for a while. But Azriel showed no signs of stopping. He continued to slam into her as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

And she was just his to fuck and use as he pleased. She could only moan and cry. Tears flowed freely as she was brought to another orgasm made her tremble.

Azriel made an lustful, inhumane sound like a roar or a growl as he came. She could feel him inside her, cock softening and their fluids running down her thighs.

This was it. She’d never felt this perfect. This desirable. This sexy. And Azriel was there, making her feel all of it, prompting her to believe it.

But when he removed himself from her, she cried. She was now frustratingly empty.

Y/n only felt his hands gently embrace her as he settled her down. He wrapped the blanket over her and moved around a bit.

She felt his hands on her inner thighs with something cool. “Sweetheart, let me clean you up.”

And she felt the cool and tender graze of intimate wipes in her inner thighs.

Y/n watched him and brought a hand to his cheek. He looked at her and she felt so comfortable. And so loved and cherished. This was surely a dream, wasn’t it?

She smiled and Azriel kissed her lips. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Forty seconds.”

“Thirty.” Azriel pulled back and did something and something. Y/n had closed her eyes, drifting away to blissful sleep.

Footsteps sounded and he’d probably left the room. She didn’t keep count of the seconds but he was back by her side soon. She looked at him with a tired smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Azriel adjusted all the blankets and tucked them both in cosily.

“Did you lock your door?”

“Yeah. I just checked.” So that’s why he’d left the room.

“And the lights?” He joined her in bed, entering the blanket and kissing her forehead.

“All switched off.” Y/n felt his hand on her cheek and his body come closer to her.

“Good.” She closed her eyes and snuggled closer, relishing in his warmth. “How are you?”

“I’m great. How are you?” Gods, he was so perfect. Was there any need for this much perfection in one person?

He switched off the bedroom lights and laid down properly on the bed, her body finding comfort in his steady warmth.

“I’m great.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Was that bad? She liked him, didn’t she? And maybe, he liked her too.

“Come closer, Az.” She invited, extending a hand that found his chest. Azriel took it immediately and moved closer.

And yet, she felt that he was definitely not close enough. Y/n caressed his hand with her fingers.

“Close enough?” He asked so softly, she could’ve fallen asleep. This man exuded warmth and something so powerful yet gentle.

“Not nearly.” She whispered, arching her back so her breasts would be pressed even more against his chest. Y/n draped an arm around his midsection and brought herself closer.

She craned her neck and moved forward to kiss whatever part of him that her lips would touch. It was probably his jaw from the bone structure she felt.

Azriel leaned forward, his hands wrapping around her waist and he gently kissed her forehead. “You’re so beautiful.”

“It’s dark in here.” Y/n felt something wrap drop over her body like a veil. And it was easy to find peace in his arms and drift away to sleep.

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

****

Taglist:

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bigfatbimbo · 3 months ago

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Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment.

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub.

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you.

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns.

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him.

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened.

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process.

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject.

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments.

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food.

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards.

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt.

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped.

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head.

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?”

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking.

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics.

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course.

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #bill cipher x you #bill cipher fluff #fluff x reader #bill cipher #x reader #gravity falls imagines #bill cipher imagines #inbox open

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 5 months ago

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So I absolutely despise the Senti-Rich kids plot, and I get the feeling you dont like it much either

Can you think of any way to make a plotline like that actually work in ML?

You would be correct in your assumption! There are a lot of ways to make that plot work. I'll list a few going in rough order from least changes to canon to most extreme changes to canon:

Never use the peacock for canon fodder sentimonsters or mention that sentimonsters have a remote control and the ethical issues become a lot less complicated, letting you treat the peacock like a wacky fertility drug. This path is kinda boring and still makes the Agrestes look bad, but it would remove all my main issues.

Modify the peacock so that there's something to make it clear that the senti kids are different from a normal sentimonster. I think I've seen someone mention the idea that, to make a living senti, you have to give up part of yourself and that's an interesting idea, though I think that sort of nuanced commentary on infertility is too complex for a kids show. Still, the general concept could work, especially if you added a way for a living sentimonster to break free of their amok.

Lean into the secret society stuff the show hinted at with things like the Diamond Dance and whatever the weird mask party was back in season four. Have some sort of rich people conspiracy to have perfect children that the heroes have to stop.

Along similar lines to the previous or in addition to the previous: actually acknowledge that you've introduced a slavery plot to your show and let there be a free the slaves plot. And I mean really free them. None of this, "well, you're technically still a slave, but we've given you the remote control, so it's fine! Just never ever let that ring out of your sight, okay? And be careful about giving yourself orders by accident!"

My favorite path: change the peacock's power to be something else, but keep the general plot line of that power being used in relation to Adrien (and the other two, if you want). I'll admit that this one is somewhat similar to the first idea, but the reason I like this and not that is that I just generally hate the idea of magical designer babies, but I like the idea that Emilie used the peacock for Adrien's sake. It's nice dramatic tension. I actually assumed this was going to be the big reveal up until we learned the peacock's power. Post reveal, I assumed that I was wrong because the sentimonster stuff seemed like too stupid of a move for anyone to make. I also find the peacock both overpowered and too similar to the butterfly, so I've wanted it to be something else ever since it was first introduced. The sentibaby plot line just further fueled my dislike.

#ml writing salt #senti salt

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evilgwrl · 1 month ago

Text

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Nine)

CW: Female masturbation, brief description of male masturbation, reader is kinda like Bella from twilight when he disappears, hot and steamy shower hookups, humping with no clothes on, THEYRE ABT TO FUCK!!!

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

NOTE: I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has been PM or leaving little messages in my requests. Thank you for your ongoing support during my time away from the app. On a short note, if you are ever struggling with mental health or issues in general, please feel free to message me. I appreciate the love you guys give me, it really does make writing so much easier from the continuous support

It was void — a soft hint of nothing penetrating the air like poison. It had been nearly two weeks, a perpetual torture of hearing nothing, seeing nothing. You weren’t sure what was worse; him leaving with only a scribbled note or the idea that he wouldn’t come back.

Before him, it never mattered. His presence was occasionally, only lulling you to sleep in the simmer of a summer night as his feet padded gently across wooden floors, floors you had now stepped on. Your skin felt engraved into his apartment, every board digging into the thickened skin of your feet like a tattoo.

You felt grumpy constantly, soppy fingers nestled into your cunt to ease the pungent ache of arousal that leaked from your drowsy heat. The crook of your neck was constantly hot, overworked with sweat as you cried out into the air, head thrown back in an attempt to build the never-coming release.

Your hips would rock in a fastening motion against the vibrating toy; nipples perked up from the arrogant breeze that kissed your skin, the window open as delicate flutters of your throat filled the air.

You were desperate and incredibly overworked, always working past your designated hours to distract yourself. When you weren’t in the office, you were out, crammed into a pushy bar as you chugged down the searing taste of golden liquor, your belly hot with turmoil as you nudged away anyone who got too close, anyone who wasn’t him.

You were perplexed by the growing emotions that consumed you, confused as to why you felt as strongly as you did so quickly. Maybe it was the way he took care of you, licking your slick into the pool of his mouth until you gushed around his tongue. Maybe it was the way he fucked you, nudging every crevice of your cunt with precise expertise, that had you crying. Or maybe it was the way he watched you, eyes lapping in every delicate movement you made, observing you like a trained hawk.

Days went by slower, draining on like they were anxious to be replaced by the moon, the constant need for brightness scorching your skin as you huffed and puffed. The atmosphere slowly began to transition, the leaves turning a crisp malt before they would eventually crumble under the wind.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay longer, I could get a head start on-“

“Go home, Y/N, I see you more than I see my own husband these days, enjoy your weekend.”

You grumbled, feet skidding against the carpark floor as you slammed your door shut, anxious eyes staring into the backseat before flicking the lock. There was a dull ache in your lumbar spine, coiling into the middle of your back as you jammed the gears into drive.

Like clockwork, you sighed as you drove past the roads you had driven on with Simon, remembering how warm your mouth was, stuffed full of aching cock that later bruised your pillowy walls. Your finger flickered to your car play, adjusting the sound before you began to mumble lyrics into the air.

The sound of gravel skidded against worn tyres as you pulled into your cul-de-sac, brows furrowed at the plain sight of your neighbour’s side. You felt like a clingy ex, desperate for any lick you could receive from the man.

Simon felt just as tortured; his body was scolded with fresh wounds and bruises, blown welts of blue and yellow gouged into his skin in an eerie display of his work. When his finger wasn’t pulling a trigger, ripping the hairs from his nose as gunpowder and gnarly metallic drenched his olfactory organs, his wrist ached with a twisting motion, tugging at the fat of his cock in the barely luke-warm showers as his mouth filled with water.

It was unusual for the man to feel this needy, his sex drive was normally relatively low, especially whilst he was away on deployment. The Lieutenant wasn’t dumb; he would never allow himself to grow distracted on the job, but he never thought he would have a greater reason to go home.

“Ay’ Lieutenant, ye’ excited to go home ‘n see that pretty lass of a neighbour?”

Simon’s face turned sour as he looked at Soap, “Watch ye’ mouth, Johnny.”

Johnny snarled into a cheeky grin, tipping back the shot that melted into the glass as Price clapped the two men on the back.

“We did well, gentlemen. Our flight leaves at 0600. Take some time off during our break, make the most of it, a’right?”

“Is there ever a break in the Task Force?” Gaz quipped, boyish smile on his face as more alcohol found its way into their systems, throats burning at the foul aftertaste. The banter from the men didn’t simmer down for hours, endless rounds of drinks lined across the bar table before they stumbled back to their quarters in the dead of the night, duffle bags tucked neatly into the corners of their beds.

The smell of espresso burned through your nose as you crowded into the line of the coffee shop the next morning. Saturday mornings in your town always seemed the busiest, dogs barking on leashes at ongoing birds as Mothers cooed at their newborns and businessmen honked at the elderly, steaming a trail of gas down the intersection.

The flat white you ordered was duller than usual as the half-full cup made its way into a crammed bin. Your keys felt heavy in your hands as you flickered with the lock on your front door, barging it open with a grunt before you locked up. Dusk began to fall once more, the sound of cicadas chirped into the hues of the sunset before darkness consumed outside the walls of your house.

Your mouth was stuffed full of cheap Chinese takeaway as you binged another episode of Criminal Minds, tongue-tingling with the residue of roasted duck before you yawned, huffing into the bathroom as you stripped yourself bare.

Simon was quick to thank the taxi, bag tucked tightly in his calloused palm as he made his way up the porch steps. He stared at his slight reflection in his window, tugging his front door open as he kicked off his boots. A smile etched onto his face as he heard the dampened sound of clutter on the other side, undoing his belt as he wove his door shut once more, eager fists banging upon yours.

You grunted into the air at the sudden interruption, leg soaked with water as you dipped it in to test the heat. Your dressing gown quickly scolded you as you wrapped the garment around the bareness of your skin, nipples strained against the thin fabric as you muttered to yourself.

The knock repeated as you grumbled out, “I’m coming!”

Wood swung open as your eyes widened, taking in the dishevelled, yet incredibly striking appearance of your beloved neighbour.

“I missed hearing you say that.”

His voice was rough, the lack of sleep and obvious torment he had succumbed to during his time away evident as you gawked at him.

“Simon? Hi – You’re home.”

“Landed about an hour ago.”

Your brows furrowed as you ushered him in, the breeze drifting under your attire as you shivered slightly.

“How was –“ you paused, “How was your deployment?”

“Gruelling, but it’s work.”

You nodded, taking in the sight of him again as you swallowed thickly.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Simon shook his head, eyes flickering up and down your frame, taking in the leftover moisture that drenched your calf and the way the fabric stuck a little too well to you.

“I could go for a shower,” he stated.

Your back was burning hot, cool tiles barely succumbing to the growing desire that fuelled through you as the man pushed you against the drenched wall, your core whining for its needed release as your legs locked around his hips, pussy clenching around nothing as the girth of his shaft ground against your sloppy mound.

Scorched kisses buried into your neck, impaling into your flesh as you offered him more skin to toy with, heavy gasps pounding through your lungs as you whined, a tight grip coiled around the back of his neck.

“Si-“ you squeaked as a heavy grip found your chest, tugging at achy nipples with a swelling grip.

“Missed your voice,” the man practically growled before your lips interlocked, tongues exploring the depths of your mouths in an attempt to make up for lost time. You could taste the alcohol and smoke on his, and he could taste the caffeine on yours.

“I didn’t know when you would come back,” you panted in between the movement of your lips.

“Don’t think I could’a spent another day without your cunt.”

His words were foul, yet your pussy practically squelched, throbbing with neglect as you mewled against him, tugging his bottom lip in between your teeth as he grunted, rubbing his tip against your wanton entrance.

“Please fuck me, Si.”

“If you insist,” he grinned, cowered into your neck with an arrogant smirk before the inviting heat of your fluttering cunt welcomed him.

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orb-art · 4 months ago

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Tentatively uploading all of this spec evo stuff I did today and yesterday. I wanted them to be less humanoid and if nothing else I think I've achieved that.

I've probably been messing with this species and its world for like a decade, but I keep reworking it and so much of that work just sits in old sketchbooks and google docs. They have a very special place in my heart <3

Oh yeah also the Mormon pre/during/afterlife is there too?? No relation to anything else.

Some older ideas from previous years. They kind of have maintained that general look for a while. Not a huge fan of some of this anymore like what the hell is that massive "scavenger"??

Stab-sex is kinda tight still if you ask me.

#speculative evolution #speculative biology #alien species #original species #sketch

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sanarsi · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 4

Food play

Marcus Acacius x prostitute!f!Reader

Gif credits @a7estrellas

Summary: General likes to brighten up his evenings with your companion. This time he's in the mood for more fun. Warnings: +18, MDNI, pureee smut, unprotected PIV, multi orgasm, food play, nipple play, soft!dom!Marcus, kinda dirty talk Wordcount: 1,3k An: I’m so sorry but I have no idea how to write like a BIG food play. It's totally soft, more of a tease than real play.

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

He liked to watch you, taste you, penetrate you.

You were his favorite and that’s why you visited his chambers every night. At first you wondered, how on earth this man still had so much energy to do sex marathons for several hours.

You certainly weren't complaining, Marcus was the lover you never had, caring and charming. He never hurt you, which was rare in your profession. And despite all these years in your arms, he still hasn't gotten bored with you.

"That's right, little flower, lift those hips for me," he panted with satisfaction as he watched you ride him.

Sweat poured down your bodies, mixing with the several orgasms he had already whipped out of you. You were really tired but still had a big smile on your face as you showed him your best skills.

You wouldn't be able to sacrifice yourself for anyone like you did for him. The sight of bliss on his face as he watched your body with lust was worth the fact that you couldn't walk afterwards.

You rolled your hips, holding him deep inside you, and his body responded to the movement with strong shivers.

"Fuck, don’t do that," he hissed, tightening his grip on your thighs to stop you from moving any further.

"Why not? I thought you liked it," you gasped but as he wished, you returned to your previous movements.

"I love it," he corrected, "but I don't want to end our fun yet."

You smiled widely at those words and started using him for your pleasure again.

Marcus let you do that all the time because he loved it, when his cock brought you to such a state, that sometimes you forgot his name.

But today was different, today he just wanted to watch you and relax. He sat comfortably on his big bed, drinking wine, eating fruit and admiring the sight of your wet body.

Unfortunately, you liked his attention, when his hands roamed your body, when his lips were occupied yours.

So when he took another piece of peach, you perfidiously snatched it from his hand. He didn't say a word, watching with curiosity what you were going to do.

“Why do you give them more attention than me?” you asked, examining a piece of orange fruit. “Am I not as sweet as them?”

His lips parted in response but then your hand slowly began to slide up your stomach, leaving a wet trail of sweet juice in its wake. He followed the shiny strip with gaze, from which single drops flew, creating a path that ended between your legs.

“Because I’d like you to sink your teeth into me too.” You bit your lip, hiding your growing smile.

You continued to rock your hips gently, letting his tip tease the head of your uterus.

Your hand traveled higher and higher, between your breasts, to your nipple, which you slowly circled a few times so that it soaked in the sweetness of the peach. Marcus watched this as if hypnotized, still unable to answer you.

But he was able to act.

The moment you started to caress the other nipple, he sucked on the first one. You moaned, closing your eyes as he greedily began to lick the juices from your skin. With a grunt of pleasure he sucked, nibbled and licked sensitive flesh, causing a new wave of excitement to plan in your clit.

The slight grinding against him was enough for another orgasm to start building in your core. Your moans and new teases woke him up enough that he didn't want to just watch you anymore, so you had the desired effect.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever had in my mouth, flower," he gasped before he got to the other nipple, letting another fulfillment take over your body. It got even wetter between your bodies as your climax shook your body.

He didn't even give you a moment's respite as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and forced your body into faster movements.

When your nipple was already standing hard in his mouth and all the juices were licked, he began to run his tongue along a trail that led up, through your neck and into your mouth.

He pulled away from you when he felt an obstacle in his path, a piece of peach resting between your lips. Eyes clouded with pleasure only enticed him to bite the protruding piece.

You moaned when his lips immediately attacked yours, pieces of fruit hitting your tongues connected in a thirsty dance.

You finally got the attention you wanted, your bodies pressed tightly together, sticking from yours and peach juices, his moans disappearing into your mouth as your walls continued to clench around him after your orgasm.

"You have me every day and you're still so thirsty," he growled and gripped you tighter. His cock began to enter you faster, the increasingly intense friction causing you to tremble.

“Marcus,” you groaned between moans and threw your head back.

His tongue was immediately on your skin, licking up the last of the sweetness. The sounds that left your lips were starting to drive him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the pace, your bodies were starting to slide against each other, but luckily you still had your tricks that worked perfectly in situations like this.

You rolled your hips on his cock and watched with a drunken look as the approaching abyss appeared on his face more and more clearly.

“I wanted to give you a break today but you’re so greedy,” he gasped and winced in pleasure as an orgasm slowly began to build in his core. “I think I raised a monster.”

You snorted at his words because he was right, before him, no one had been able to make you feel that way.

You both were breathing heavily as you worked towards your shared orgasm.

“But I like it that way,” he admitted with a blissful smile before you allowed yourself to sink into his mouth. The sweet taste of fruit still lingered on his tongue as it crept into your mouth.

The sheets beneath you were already soaked through, but Marcus had gotten used to the way your body responded so intensely to his closeness. In fact, he was flattered when he saw the embarrassed faces of his servants when they had to change his sheets day after day.

Your shuddering breath mingled with his as you chased your fulfillment. “Please,” you whispered, and that made him dig his fingers hard into your hips and help you bounce on his cock.

You both moaned at the intense feeling that carried you all the way to the end. Just a few loud slaps of skin against skin and a wave of fulfillment washed over your body. You began to tremble and gasp as you tensed in pleasure over and over again.

A throaty groan escaped him at the feeling of your pulsating pussy opening the gates to Olympus for him. His balls squeezed in a long awaited orgasm, leaving his seed inside you.

Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against yours and allowed his cock to finally soften. After so many hours, a moment of respite was like salvation.

“You were wonderful,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek.

You ran your fingers through his wet curls one last time before moving to stand up, but surprisingly his arms still held you tight. You smiled, looking at him with anticipation for him to let you leave, but he had no plans to do so.

“You’ll stay with me tonight.”

You were frozen at his words, as he had never allowed you to be more close than necessary before. But who were you to oppose his will?

“As you wish, my General.”

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist

#sanarsi kinktober 2024 #marcus acacius x y/n #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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im-secretly-a-frog · 3 months ago

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Random Jonathan Sims head canons

He uses a cane -i just like the idea and I'm a cane user too, also I was robbed of my previous cane using Jon (Watson, fuck you BBC let me have my disabled rep) so I'm making this one a cane user

He is transmasc, but generally doesn't relate super hard to gender as a concept -this is probably just me self inserting at characters I relate to again, but is that a crime??

He wasn't actually that good in school and frequently just kinda left. Walked off. He gets distracted by things. Of course if he cared at all about the assignments they were impeccable, but most assignments he didn't like so he just didn't do them. He was however great in uni, because he chose that one, so his stubborn ass was going to be the best at it.

#TMA #jonathan sims #jon sims #headcanon #my headcanons #headcanons #tma podcast #tma fandom #tma jon #queer #lgbtqia #lgbtq #the archivist #the magnus archives #the magnus pod

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deathbxnny · 20 days ago

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Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlechinno genshin #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #x reader

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heartpascal · 2 years ago

Text

the world is brighter

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel is trying to be someone he’s not.

▹— a/n: so this is meant to be the reluctant daughter fic…. and it didn’t turn out exactly the way i planned :( not sure that i like it at all honestly, but i wanna put smth out for y’all and this is 13K words that i cba to rewrite so… love you.

▹— warnings: references to suicide attempt, familial loss, previous good relationship with (assumed) biological dad, blood, so much blood, murder (you kill someone), fighting, i think you could class this as dissociation/blackouts but i’m not sure (pls tell me if it’s something different), fighting, canon-typical violence, angst — please tell me if there’s more, ive been trying to keep up to date but i’ve written this fic over so many days. be mindful, this one might be kinda heavy.

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours (if you’ve been tagged it’s because you requested to be on my general taglist! if you want your tag removed, drop me a message! <3)

masterlist

howl’s song associations!

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Living in Boston QZ hadn’t been your idea. No — you never would have chosen the so-called safety of the walls, which were only filled with bad people and worse authority, but you had been left with no other choice.

Pronounced an orphan on your way to the QZ, you didn’t know what else to do. With nobody to guide you or advise you, you had gone ahead with the original plan, walking the final twenty-something miles alone, in some sort of absent state.

The journey was a blur, and so was the arrival, you only really remember seeing the green flash of the cordyceps tester, reminding you of all you had lost. Every time you closed your eyes after that, the shade of green haunted you.

They had put you up in a FEDRA school, and so you began your training to become an officer. You hated it, hated the FEDRA organisation as a whole, and hated being in Boston when the person who had wanted to be there didn’t make it.

You tried not to make a habit of sneaking out after the first time, but you couldn’t help yourself. Most days, you were so exhausted from your nightly adventures through the QZ that you got everybody into doing more drills. Not many people were a big fan of you, but that was the way you preferred it.

You liked being alone, really. Enjoyed the silence that echoed through your room, the absence of other people letting you simmer in your own feelings. Your father had always reprimanded you for wallowing in your own self-pity, but he was no longer around to do such a thing. So, you wallowed.

Between climbing out of your bedroom window, jumping across rooftops to reach a particular apartment building with an actual view outside of the wall, you spent your time disconnected from the hellscape you lived in. Everything felt so far away, so out of touch, and the only moments you blinked back to reality, you were dripping in blood. Down your face, your hands, so much of it that you didn’t know where it started or ended. Or if it was your own.

Everything coming back into focus at once was dizzying enough, and sometimes that feeling was so closely related to blood loss that you had been sure somebody must’ve stabbed you, must’ve finally managed to get past your survival instincts, must’ve brought you to your end, at last.

But then you’d wake up, blood dried, no sign of the looming figure of death in front of you. There was only one occasion where the blood must’ve been mostly your own, and that was a broken nose. You pretended not to be disappointed, each and every time. Despite everything you had done to survive, everything you still do, there was a darker part of you that hated yourself for it. That blamed you.

It was one of those times yet again, where one moment you swore you were paying attention in your FEDRA classroom, and the next you blinked, eyes opening to the sight of bloodied hands in front of you.

It was everywhere, you would swear on it, underneath your fingernails, between each digit on your hand, even dripping down your wrist. It was warm and clung to your skin, even when you wiped your hands against the jeans on your legs. You blinked again, finally moving your eyes away from your sticky hands, and you gulped down a lump in your throat at the sight in front of you.

You recognised the man — a snarky guard at FEDRA, one who always had it out for you. You could see a slither of the face that always glared over at you underneath all of the red blood.

It didn’t take much realising to know that you wouldn’t get away with this thing, that this would be something that killed you. If they found out, if, then you were dead.

You needed to know, had to be sure, if this was going to be the final thing, your final action, if you had actually killed a FEDRA guard. But despite that, despite knowing that you didn’t have another option than to look if his chest was rising and falling, you couldn’t draw your eyes in the direction. Even when you tried, your chin fell to your chest, eyes back on the hands that were cradling one another in your lap, feeling far too heavy for your arms.

With the sharp way your breath was coming into your chest, you were starting to realise that your hearing hadn’t returned with your sight, and you jumped when the realisation brought it back, a rush of sound hitting you all at once.

The distant sound of gunfire, the whirring of a generator nearby, the sound of your own hyperventilating breaths, it all echoed too loudly, far too much going on for you to comprehend it all. So much so that you missed the footsteps heading your way, missed the sound of crunching stone as somebody else stepped foot on the rooftop.

A hand against your shoulder had you rearing around, fists drawn back and pushing forward until they hit the person, hard, and the hand was immediately withdrawn. You continued forward, eyes blinking closed in a flinch as the hand grabbed your wrists, holding tight until you stopped trying to pull them away.

“Jesus Christ— Tess, get on out here!” The voice belonging to the person holding on to you yelled out, about as loudly as he dared, and you bared your teeth with clenched fists at the woman who pulled herself up from the fire escape on the apartment building.

“Jesus,” She echoed, looking between you and the FEDRA agent with raised eyebrows, a slight grimace, marring her features. She looked over at the man who was grasping your wrists in a bruising grip with a questioning gaze. “What the fuck went on here?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You spat out, tugging your arms, trying to get out of the man’s grip as you grit your teeth, your mind still reeling with everything that was going on.

He stared sternly at you, “You gonna calm down?” When you responded with a more than angered nod, he nodded, releasing your wrists and stepping away, leaning to look at the FEDRA guard still lay at your side. He kicked the guy in the side, and there was no hint of a reaction. “Dead.” He told the woman, Tess, with an odd look on his face.

“Well, shit, kid.” Tess sighed, hands on her hips as she looked at the situation before her. She shook her head with a tut, and approached to have a look at the guard herself. “What happened?”

You just continued baring your teeth, metaphorical hackles raised high, and Tess just responded with a blank look on her face, a dismissive purse to her lips as she moved her gaze over to the man.

He tilted his head, looking between you and the body, “Could’ve been anyone.” He suggested to Tess, rocking his head from side to side in something like deliberation. You stared hard at the two of them, confusion still buzzing through your head.

“Could’ve been.” She agreed.

They shared a look, communicating between only their eyes, and they had no reaction to the way your hands clenched, your head snapping between them. You didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t understand what was going on, and you had no idea who these people were. It really didn't provide any reassurance, and your eyebrows lowered over your eyes, a glare prominent on your features as Tess huffed.

“C’mon, kid.” The man said to you, offering a hand to help you up from the ground. When you stared at him, that glare on your face, he raised his eyebrows in annoyance. “It’s either you come with us, or you’re found here with him and hung. Your choice.” He told you, hand still offered out, and you grit your teeth as you took it, letting him pull you to your feet, and steady you when you stumbled, everything feeling a bit too real.

You focused on where you were going, rather than who was leading you there, as the two of them took you down the fire escape, hurrying you into an open window on the second flight down from the top. You didn’t take any notice of the bloody handprint Tess wiped away after you had managed to get yourself through the gap, instead looking for the doors.

“You can calm down, kid, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” Tess said, sounding snarky as she moved past you to their kitchen, where she helped herself to a glass of illegal alcohol. You raised your eyebrows, knowing that wasn’t a FEDRA-supplied bottle.

You huffed, watching the man look around the area before he shut the window, flicking the lock into place. “Can never be too careful.” You murmured in response.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Tess said, somewhat amused. “I mean if anybody here’s showed some aggression, that’d be you. Gonna tell us what went on up there?” She asked between careful sips from her glass, measured, or maybe, savouring sips.

At her question, your eyebrows furrowed once more, and you pulled your bloodied hands close to your chest, jaw clenched.

“No?” She asked, leaning forward with an expectant expression, and she opened her mouth to ask some more questions, say something else, but the man cut her off.

“Tess,” He warned, eyebrows raised, “Take it easy.” He glanced back to you, to the hands you held close to yourself, and frowned. With a nod of his head, clearly expecting you to follow, he headed down the hallway. You looked at Tess, hesitantly following the man as she nodded with an exasperated scoff.

He opened a door, revealing their bathroom, which had certainly seen better days. You wouldn’t exactly cheer for the bathrooms at FEDRA school, but jesus — at least it was better than what the general public got. “Head on in, clean yourself up. Don’t want anybody seein’ that on you.”

With some reluctance, you kept a hostile expression plastered on your face as you stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the tap in the sink and running your hands under it. Up until that point, you had remained ignorant to the way the blood clung to your skin, sticky and not quite cold, but now there was the opportunity to be rid of it, you became desperate.

The water helped, slightly, but not fast enough for your liking, resorting to the scraping of your dull nails against the drying blood, up until flakes of red started to melt away, colouring the water as it drained.

Their mirror was broken, and you couldn’t have been more glad. You were sure that if it had been there when you glanced up, if you had to look yourself in the face, you would be sick. You didn’t want to face the fact that all of this was real. You had just killed a FEDRA guard.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, now.” The man said, reaching into the sink and pulling your hands away from the stream of water when you ignored him. He shut the tap off, staring at you with that same strange expression, only glancing away to grab the towel that hung over the door. You took it, drying your hands hastily before you shoved it back towards him.

You were shoving past him before he could get another word out, barely even able to grab the towel as you passed it back. He blinked, a frown forming a deeper crease than usual between his brows.

“Listen, I—I really need to get back. Curfew is going to be over soon, I think.” You fumbled around the words, hurrying down the hallway you came from and spinning around in the room to try and reorient yourself. You finally saw the door you believed to be the exit, and headed towards it.

“Well, hold up,” Tess said, frowning and reaching out to you, stepping back with a slight scoff when you moved away from the reaching arms. “Daylight’s gonna break any second, you’d be better off waiting for curfew to be over with. And,” She added, tilting her head at you with a stern look, “You still haven’t told us what went on. We’re covering your ass, right now. If anything goes to shit it’ll be us keeping you safe. You realise that?”

You did realise something — and that was the kind of people you were dealing with. You’d heard from them, and not from the FEDRA teachers, but from other trainees, other students.

When the world went up in flames, FEDRA had been the first to seize onto power, and they held on to the pretence that they had never let go. But the world was still burning, and the people had begun rioting, and there was another opportunity for a power-grab. It was people like this who had taken that opportunity, who had made something of themselves in a world on fire.

You knew then that the way she had likely gotten that bottle of alcohol was through her own network. She was a manipulator, clearly, a blackmailer. She used the resources she had, and she definitely made the most of them. She wasn’t bluffing.

“So, what? I don’t tell you and you sell me out?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. Part of you wants to hear her say it, though, wants to hear the admission of being a bad person. Then again, maybe she was the good guy, you thought, after remembering the blurry image of that guard, lay still on the roof above where you stood.

Tess tilted her head, “Pretty much.”

“Well, fine. Be my guest. As much as I would love to comply with your blackmail, I couldn’t tell you. Don’t have a fucking clue what happened up there. I’d say try asking him, but…” You snarked in response, another bare of your teeth, another raising of your hackles. Tess was looking more frustrated by the moment, if the slight twitch of the skin of her brows said anything. She held herself together pretty well. If it weren’t for the stark difference between times like now and the times of blacked out memories, blurred images, you likely wouldn’t have even noticed. But it was like everything was so clear when you actually looked, and you noticed details that most people wouldn’t.

“Joel,” Tess sighed out, and even the cadence of her voice revealed the annoyance that was growing within her. “Help me out, here?” She asked, because despite every front that the man put up, he was still better with kids than she was. There was something about him, an authority, she wondered, that just made people fess up.

You looked over to the man, to Joel, to see his eyes looking at you with more recognition by the second, a pull to the frown on his lips that suggested he knew something that you didn’t. You weren’t a fan of the look.

He gritted his teeth at the whole situation, his chest aching with familiarity. Joel knew, probably better than anyone, that look in your eye. “I believe her,” Joel answered Tess, hesitantly, rolling his eyes when the two of you immediately looked at him with dumbfounded expressions. “Look, Tess is right. You’re better off sticking ‘round here ‘til curfew drops.” He told you then, his voice gruff as he leaned to look out of the window, seeing the light outside growing brighter each passing minute.

You huffed, but crossed your arms in defeat, shoulders slouching where you stood.

“But remember, you owe us.” Tess said scathingly, a crease running along her forehead before she turned away, heading down the hallway. She pretended that she didn’t hear the way you scoffed at her words.

You and Joel stood opposite each other, the room tense. He cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms so the two of you didn’t mirror each other quite so accurately, and he turned to grab his own glass of booze. “So, uh, you go to school? FEDRA?” He asked, talking over the sound of liquid being poured into his glass.

“Yeah.” You responded lamely, tapping a foot against the floorboards of their apartment, avoiding looking at the man.

“You know the guy, then?” He questioned, eyebrows raised as he turned back around to look at you.

The look you gave him was scathing, but you gritted your teeth and responded anyway, seeing no other choice. “I guess. Gives me— gave me a hard time for dumb things. Don’t know what happened last night, before you ask.” You said, correcting your words to the past tense, and your chest felt hauntingly empty, despite what you had done.

Joel shrugged at you, “Wasn’t goin’ to.” He responded, mouth set in a thin line before he took a long sip from his drink. “Get some rest, kid. Got an hour or so, yet.” He told you, seeing your exhaustion before you had even felt it, apparently.

You blinked at him, surprised. The idea was tempting, you could admit, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to go to sleep around two strangers. At any moment, they could have a change of heart. It was best to stay on guard, to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. That was the way you always played these type of things, and it worked out.

He drained his glass, shrugging at you when you didn’t move to head towards the sofa he had vaguely gestured at, and said, “Suit yourself.” Before he walked down the hallway, following Tess.

You waited there for more than a few minutes, so still, making sure you didn’t make a sound, waiting to hear when one of them would come back to keep an eye on you. You had never felt more confused when they didn’t.

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Ever since then, the world seemed to blur around you even more. And despite getting out in the hold at school after getting caught trying to sneak back in, it didn’t deter you, and they didn’t seem to suspect you of anything. You had heard the whispers about the dead FEDRA guard, though.

You tried not to listen.

Instead, you spent even more of your time sneaking out, but allowed that haze to fall over you with even less of a fight each time you went out. It was easier, that way, to let the world fall away and leave you with memories smudged in blood, that you certainly didn’t remember acquiring. Nothing in them was clear, and the cycle of waking up covered in blood didn’t stop.

More often than not, though, it was beginning to be your own blood. Apparently, your hazed self had become terrible at picking the battles you fought, and you’d blinked back to reality more than once when sparring at school, the jolt of pain when somebody caught an injury bringing you back faster than anything else had.

When you blinked back into reality this time, however, it was with warm blood dripping down your face, a hand gripping onto your head and keeping it upright when it began to fall to one side. You didn’t expect to see a familiar face, that was for sure.

“Joel?” You asked, incredulous, your voice slurred as you spoke through blood in your teeth.

“Well, she’s alive.” He said, not to you, barely even acknowledging your questioning tone as he glanced behind him to somebody you couldn’t see. Tess, presumably. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, kid?” He grumbled, voice gruff as he looked over your head for injuries, a grimace on his face at the amount of blood dripping down your temple.

His hand left your head a moment later, and you just about caught the weight of it before your chin could hit your chest, leaning back and settling the crown of your head against what felt like a brick wall.

A hand against your shoulder caught your attention when your eyes had been drifting closed, without you knowing they had even begun to do so, and you blinked them back open. “Jesus, how many times are we gonna have to save your ass?” Tess asked rhetorically, a grimace that matched Joel’s on her face as she looked at the state of you.

“‘M fine.” You grumbled, moving to try and push her hand away but only pulling your hand back with a hiss at the sudden throbbing pain that bloomed in your fingers.

Tess smiled sarcastically, “Yeah, sure you are. Those are broken, by the way.” She said, nodding down to the fingers on your hand which were bloodied and bruised, swollen and now so painful you had to grind your teeth together. Your knuckles were split, and you looked around, seeing no sign of a body, but you couldn’t help wondering what the other guy must look like.

You didn’t say anything else to her, just focusing on keeping your eyes open and attempting to remember whatever had happened to lead you to such a state. Nothing came up.

Even when Joel lifted your arm, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he pulled your elbow around his neck until he was holding most of your weight. He stumbled slightly when you did, and let out a gruff comment about you handling some of your own weight.

You did your best, but he ended up practically carrying you all the way back to their apartment, which was a couple of blocks. You vaguely wondered how they had even come across you, but figured you were in no place to ask questions.

“Remember what happened this time?” Tess asked, opening the door to their shared apartment so Joel could pull you through it, his arms straining to keep you upright. It was a much harder task when you were conscious but barely in control of your own limbs. He had thought about carrying you, but decided that was much too strange.

You shook your head, but realised she was facing away from you, and you hoped Joel hadn’t noticed your mistake. “Not a fucking clue.” You slurred out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as it tried to spell out the words.

Joel huffed out a breath through his nose as he set you down against their couch, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed his muscles, feeling a distant ache in his arm from being so tensed. He went down the hallway a second later, disappearing from your view.

“You are one lucky kid.” Tess drawled, the scene so familiar to the first time you met the two of them, as she held a glass of alcohol loosely in her hand. Distantly, you wondered if they had a glass every day, and if that meant they had shitloads of the stuff stored away somewhere, but decided you probably shouldn’t be thinking about it.

You scoffed, brows furrowed in aggravation despite the fact they had probably saved your lives. “Yeah, lucky. Sure.” You said, likely the clearest you had been able to speak since you’d woken up. Or become aware. You weren’t really sure which was more accurate.

Tess smiled, a sarcastic one that was full of humour and annoyance, “Oh, you don’t think so? Should we think about what could’ve happened if somebody else had found you there?” She asked, eyebrows raised, and you grit your teeth to stay silent.

You, better than anyone, knew what could’ve happened. You knew what people in this QZ — hell, in this world, — were capable of. So maybe you were lucky that Joel and Tess had found you, considering that they hadn’t ratted you in to FEDRA just yet, but you knew that the one thing this world would never generate is trust. They could be just as bad, or worse, as anyone else who might have discovered you there, bloody, injured, and completely unaware.

After all, you were at their apartment, with no idea why.

“She knows, Tess,” Joel grumbled, reappearing from the hallway and looking just as unhappy as ever. He sighed, drawn out and heavier than you had expected, and held up a wet cloth. “Come on, kid, get yourself cleaned up.” He handed it over to you, and ushered Tess to follow him back down the hallway, where they spoke in harshly whispered voices.

You wiped the side of your face, getting rid of the sticky blood that was coming from the side of your head. It was kind of difficult to do with no mirror, but you wiped as much of it off as you could get to before you stopped, breathing through the pain in your head, your fingers, the left side of your chest. You grimaced as you tried to wipe blood away from your split knuckles, your broken fingers. It hurt, and it was too real of a pain.

You paused when you heard Tess’s voice raise, “She’s going to get us caught, or killed, Joel!” She said, before her tone lowered once more, further discussion happening between them. You wondered what they could be talking about — they held no obligation to pick you up off of the streets. They didn’t owe you anything. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t owe them anything, either. Everything they had done was of their own volition, meaning you hadn’t forced them into anything.

For whatever reason, they felt the need to help you. You couldn’t pretend to understand it, but you did know that this couch was much more comfortable than the stones of whatever street you had been lay on were.

Joel came down the hall soon enough, a crease between his brows, and he grunted when he saw the poor job you had done of cleaning yourself up. “Get to the bathroom, kid. We’ll patch you up there.”

“Why?” You asked, before you could help yourself. They didn’t need to be doing this, so why were they? Tess was right, you were only a danger to whatever operation they had going on, so why?

“It’s either that or you carry on bleeding out on our couch.” Tess called out, rustling through something as soon as she emerged from the hallway, busying herself in drawers and cupboards.

You figured it’d be in your best interest to not bleed out on their couch.

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Weirdly, it was the fourth time you ran into Joel and Tess that everything seemed to fall into place. Except this time, it was you doing just that, running into them. Or more accurately, him.

You had hit against shoulders in your fast pace, sending various people tumbling backwards or stepping out of your path. Helpful for you, yes, but also helpful for the group chasing you. You tried not to look back, but the footsteps chasing you were growing louder and you had to know how close they were.

One look over your shoulder led to you colliding with somebody, and you cursed as it sent you spilling to the floor at their side. With a scathing glare on your face, your heart going a mile a minute, you looked up to see none other than Joel fucking Miller.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” Joel murmured, eyes wide as he looked to where you had fallen after running into him. The alarm in your eyes made him move to face where you were looking, and there were three of Robert’s goons. He noticed, quickly, the knife that one of them was holding.

Without a second thought, he stepped between you and the group approaching, his hands clenching into fists as he grit his teeth. He wasn’t good at negotiating, at talking — that was more of Tess’s side of the deal. If it came to it, though, he could take on these fools. And he could play it off as if he was defending himself from the knife they were carrying, if need be.

They sputtered to a stop in front of him, a wary look exchanged between the two men, as the woman behind glared daggers at him. “Come on, Miller, move outta the way.” The man holding the knife said, tilting his head to one side as if that was going to make Joel listen to his directions.

Joel’s eyebrows set lower on his face as he looked back to you, with your wide eyes, and the way you scrambled up to stand just behind him. He huffed, a tired sigh leaving him, and turned back to the goons.

“Not happening.”

The three of them scoffed, incredulous, and the woman stepped forward with a sneer on her face. “What? You some kinda saviour now, Miller? Gonna start defending all the helpless little girls?” She said, voice venomous, but she stepped back when Joel went to move forward.

You, however, were not having that.

“Helpless?” You questioned, a scathing heat burning its way down your throat, “I’d like to see you go and ask your boss how helpless I am.”

Joel’s hand blocking your path stopped you from stepping towards the woman, your teeth bared at her, but you remained behind the man. You may not like listening to him, but he seemed to know what he was doing far more than you did.

“You bitch,” The final man said, no weapon held in his hand, but there was something dark about him that even Joel could see. Joel pushed against you, putting you further behind him as the man stepped forward. “When I—”

Joel’s eyes darkened considerably, and he knew from the expressions on the group’s faces that they had seen his face harden. “When you what?” He asked, looking down at the group before him, something violent in his words, as if daring the man to finish his sentence, to say something that Joel didn’t like, to give him the excuse.

“Can’t you just mind your own goddamn business, Miller?” The one with the knife asked, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl as he tried to catch a good look at you from around Joel’s shoulder.

“This is my goddamn business. Now run yourselves back to Robert before this gets out of hand.” Joel said, the threat in his words clear despite him having said nothing particularly violent. It was explicit in his tone, apparently. His gruff words were somewhat of a comfort to you, though, a slight relief that you could stop running, for now. You were also hoping that this meant your messed up shoulder would be your only injury of the day.

“Are you having a fucking laugh?” The woman asked, incredulous, as she stared at where Joel stood tall in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Joel asked, being met with nothing but deadly silence. You peeked around his arm to see the three of them looking like fools in front of him, their cocky, entitled attitudes falling apart under the weight of his words. The three of them shared a glance, gritted teeth and angered glares, and looked to Joel with a more than annoyed expression.

The man with no weapon caught sight of you looking around Joel, and pointed his hand at you, “Just you fucking wait.” He threatened, putting his hand down when Joel’s shoulders straightened, his legs moving to take a step towards the man, who quickly backed away alongside his two companions. They left without another word, throwing angry looks over their shoulders until they disappeared out of sight, at which point Joel turned to you.

“How is it that I always find myself savin’ your ass?” Joel asked, mostly to himself, as he looked at where you stood, a hand holding your other and close to your chest. He sighed, heavily, “You hurt?”

“I’ve been worse.” You admitted, though Joel knew better than anyone. He could see on your face that the swelling from around your black eye hadn’t long faded to almost normal, he could see the stitched cut along the back of your forearm, could see the way you winced as you attempted to shrug, give up halfway.

Joel nodded, studying you for a moment, his eyes drawn to the way your clothes had been ripped after your fall to the ground. He frowned. It was getting colder as the days went on, and he was already sceptical about the lack of layers you wore. He huffed out another sigh, a frown pinched between his eyebrows, and looked back down the street to ensure the goons hadn’t decided to come back. When the coast was clear, he turned back to you where you stood almost nervously, and he realised this was the first time he had seen you out during the day time. Every other time he had discovered you it had been the midst of the night.

“C’mon, let’s get back.” He murmured, keeping the mean look on his face in case anybody else came after you. For once, you didn’t say anything, just following along at Joel’s side, wincing every time you moved your arm.

“I remember what happened this time,” You offered, when the two of you finally reached Joel and Tess’s shared apartment, with you taking your seat on their couch with a half-repressed sigh. Your feet were aching, and your shoulder was killing, but at least you could rest here for a while.

Joel looked up from his rummaging at that, surprised by not only what you said, but the fact that you had said it at all. Each time, one of them prompted you for information, and you never remembered. Or you weren’t willing to share the small details you did recall. It was strange for you to offer such information to him. “Yeah?” He prompted absently, continuing to look through drawers after his slight pause.

“Yeah,” You answered as you raised an eyebrow at his actions, wondering what he could be searching for. Before you could lose your nerve, you continued, “Got into some stupid business with some guy called Robert, and then he tried to rip me off. I got kicked outta school trying to get what he needed, too.” You scoffed as you spoke, paying less attention to Joel’s reaction and focusing more on your annoyance at the whole situation. “I just… got angry, started hittin’ the guy. Then ran away, and they started chasing me.”

“What were you goin’ into business with him for?” Joel asked after you had finished, his eyebrows creased together. Robert had a way of getting to old world stuff, but everyone knew he was dodgy. Often times, it was double-sold, or broken. He was a scammer, and that was coming from Joel, who had upped prices to ridiculous amounts on the shit he and Tess smuggled in, per her order, of course.

You huffed, “I dunno, just wanted something. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He didn’t have it.”

“Well, you tell me what it is and I’ll see what I can do.” Joel offered, unsure as to why. He hated himself for doing this, for letting you in, for feeling some inexplicable reason to help you each time you were hurt. He couldn’t understand it. Perhaps, he could say you reminded him of someone who’s name he refused to speak, but that wasn’t right. You shared very few similarities with her, in fact, Joel would argue that you looked more like him. That lost look in your eyes, the blurred vision you saw through when he found you covered in blood, the memories lost to bloodshed… it was like looking in a mirror.

He felt some sort of responsibility towards you — as if helping you could heal his own wounds. Joel figured he should’ve known by now that something like that would never work.

Perhaps, he just wished that someone could’ve pulled him out of that state, when he was in it. He couldn’t say your reasons for being like this, hell, it could just be a product of the apocalyptic world you lived in, but he figured that one day, you’d grow to be like him. And god, he was hoping that you could avoid it. So if him helping you could do that, could steer your path away from seeing him in your reflection, he’d do it.

“I said it didn’t matter.” You responded, snappily. Clearly whatever you had been after was personal, held close to your chest. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting to reveal it.

Joel said nothing for a moment, but looked at you from where he stood across the room. “You got kicked outta school?” He asked, instead of pressing the subject. He saw a weight lift off of your shoulder at the change in topic.

“Yeah, got caught sneaking out too many times. Said I must have some place else to go, and that I’m old enough to know what the fuck I’m doing.” You said, rolling your eyes at the memory. You weren’t all too bothered about it. Learning about the world through a government’s perception wasn’t all that mind blowing, and you hated drills. You didn’t want to be a FEDRA soldier. So, in reality, it was quite the gift.

You had to think that way, too stubborn to remember how your father had always talked about you going to those kind of schools, about you getting an education that was more than him just pointing out words and teaching you basic math. He had never quite understood that you learned more from him than you would from anybody else.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched, a look that was almost concern shining through his eyes. “You’re just a kid.” He said, having no reaction to the way you glared at him.

“I can take care of myself.” You told him, firmly, trying your best not to think about how many times he and Tess had pulled you out of shit, likely saving your life. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, all you had was yourself.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, eyebrows raised at you, as if he was proving his point by asking it, especially when you didn’t answer immediately. All orphans went to FEDRA school, until they were old enough to get sent to a position as a guard or they were kicked back out to the street. He knew you weren’t old enough to be put in that position just yet. After all, FEDRA didn’t allocate housing to people of your age.

You looked to your hand in your lap, picking at the blood still stuck underneath your nails. “Not important.”

“No?” Joel asked, just a hint away from mockingly. You furrowed your brows at him, a frown pulling at your lips in defence.

“No.” You answered.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You think now, that you would have never been in this situation if you hadn’t accepted Joel’s insistence that you stay with him and Tess. It had gotten to a point of normalcy, something so close to domestic that it had you sneaking out of their apartment, up the fire escape back to the roof where it all began to unravel, all those nights ago.

The stain of blood on the ground is still there, and you had been staring at it long enough that you were starting to miss where it began and ended. You still couldn’t pull the memories from that night from your skull, and you were starting to think they weren’t in there at all.

It had all led you to here, to where you sat, legs swinging over the edge of the air-conditioning unit on the roof of the building. Or at least, that’s what Joel told you these things were. You frowned at the memory.

You hated the way you had let all of this happen, had let yourself get closer to the people who seemed to always be there. They were more present in your life than any other figure, even before you moved in with them. It had seemed as if you only woke up from your haze when they pulled you out of it. You couldn’t begin to understand why, and honestly, you didn’t really want to.

All you knew was that this was exhausting. You had been present for the longest time you could remember since before your father had… well, since before everything changed. And it was all because there was a ball of anxiety in your chest, hammering loudly within the beat of your heart.

Maybe it was selfish, or foolish, maybe it was both, to feel so dejected over something that should be good. But it was all feeling too familial for your liking, and it was like a constant waiting game, constantly wondering when the other shoe would drop. There had to be some sort of catch, something would surely go wrong, because life with Joel and Tess was becoming too comfortable. You should’ve been happy for it. Perhaps any other kid your age would have been, but all you could think of was the time before Boston.

Images of a house, a father who cared about you, who bought you paints and brushes even when that would have been better spent on new boots for himself. You could remember the way the sole had been peeling away when you had last seen him, remember the way he had yelled at you, begged you to leave him behind.

Sure, you had listened, had walked away from him slumped against the wall of a decrepit convenience store, but you had never truly left him behind. All the times you had spent in Boston, in a subconscious state, there had been no more memories. Before Tess and Joel, the most vivid thing you could recall was your dad.

If you closed your eyes, shut out the image of the blood staining concrete, and focused hard enough, you could hear his laugh. Reluctant laughter was something you had often drawn out of him, because he found the only joy he had left in the world within you. But there was always that nagging worry, at the very back of his mind, reminding him that things weren’t okay.

Hell, the whole reason he had insisted upon leaving the house where you had spent most of your life was because he believed you would be safer in Boston, in a QZ rather than a small community with not enough firepower to cope with any hordes.

He’d been a firm man, with a furrow between his brows that you could now see in Joel’s face, and you hated it. Your dad had given up everything for you. Why were you seeing similarities between him and Joel?

“Come on, it’s time to get going!” Tess called to you, dragging you from where you were trying to conjure up an image of your dad that wasn’t his last moments. You huffed, pushing off of the air conditioning unit, and headed down the fire escape, taking your backpack from Tess where she held it out to you.

It hadn’t been your choice to go along with Joel and Tess, more of an order, given that they didn’t want to leave you alone at their apartment. They were running low on ration cards, not enough for you to survive alone, especially if anything went wrong. That was the whole purpose of their trip, they had told you, to get something they could trade for more cards. The two of them hadn’t explained to you the radio and music catalogue that sat in their apartment, but you had figured out that it must’ve been some sort of communication system. If you were going to go off of the way Joel’s head had snapped up when some song you didn’t recognise came on.

The three of you were setting off the next day, so it must’ve meant something to them.

Joel had said something about you being in for some kind of treat, assuring you that the trip would be worth it, despite the way you remained unconvinced. You didn't want to leave the QZ again, but part of you, that stupid childish part, was curious.

So you followed them.

You were quiet most of the trip, despite Joel trying to encourage conversation with you, a crease of concern to his face the more checked out you became.

In your own defence, you seemed to be on guard well enough when you retreated to that state where it wasn’t really you, and the whole trip was too familiar. If you didn’t focus hard enough on your surroundings, you would wake up and be with your father again, or you’d lack attention and hear that gunshot as you walked away.

It was easier this way. Safer.

You also didn’t expect for Joel or Tess to notice anything different, but then you were blinking back into reality some time later, though you couldn’t tell how much. Joel’s face was in front of your own, his eyebrows furrowed, expression angrier than you had seen it in a while.

Looking around the area, over Joel’s shoulder, you saw a burning building some ways behind him, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “What happened there?” You asked, your throat sore as you said it, your chest aching, and you were more confused than anything else at the sensation.

“What were you thinking?” Joel seethed, seemingly becoming angrier at your question, and you tried not to pay the emotion any mind. You looked around again, squinting your eyes and catching sight of Tess stood before the building, her gun raised to the doorway as if expecting something to come out of the blaze. “Huh?” He questioned, drawing your attention back.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, getting more confused by the second. You looked down to where your fingers were apparently covered in soot, and slowly connected that with the burning building across the way. “Wait, did I—”

“You can’t check out like that! You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel said, and you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder far more gently than the way he was speaking. He seemed… frantic, almost. You frowned, because nobody had ever really noticed you blanking out before, or at least, nobody had ever said anything to you about it.

Your awareness came back to you fully then, and you could feel the heat from the fire even all the way over here, so you couldn’t imagine the heat Tess was feeling. With a huffed breath, you pulled yourself to your feet, shrugging Joel’s hand off when he tried to help you as you stumbled slightly. Your bag felt lighter than it had before, but at least you still had it.

Joel grumbled, his hard expression unchanging as he turned away from you to go and grab Tess, nodding at you to follow them as you hurried away from the burning building, blinking as you tried to remember what had happened.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Arriving at Bill and Frank’s compound was… overwhelming. Which was probably the biggest understatement ever.

Tess and Joel didn’t think it pertinent to tell you where you were headed before leaving Boston, and you weren’t all that well versed in where smugglers got their items to smuggle. You figured it would be some run down place, that was mostly untouched by the outbreak.

You didn’t expect this.

Initially, it reminded you of the small community you had lived in with your father, all that time ago. Though this place was guarded much better, with that electric fence that Joel warned you away from. The houses looked good, and there was one down the street, with a wide porch and old kids toys piled in the garden, which made your heart clench.

You wanted to retreat back into yourself, to hide in that haze, to let the blanket of emptiness cover you, but then Frank was emerging from the doorway of their house, his grip tight on a walking stick, but his smile was wide. He was tailed by Bill, whose hands hovered hesitantly as he followed Frank.

“Tess! Joel!” Frank called, and held his arms out for Tess when she approached, sharing a hug like they were family. You were pretty sure that they were just friends, had no connection before the outbreak. It was strange, really, to think of hugging someone that wasn’t a relation. Or perhaps it was the caring part of it that had your brows creased. “And who’s this?” He asked, smiling at you.

With a nod from Joel, you introduced yourself to the man, trying not to shrink into yourself at his cheerful demeanour, and the suspicious glances of Bill from beside him.

“Bill, it’s fine,” Frank sighed, a roll of his eyes as he turned to the man. “Go get started on dinner! We’re going to sit out here, while the weather is nice.”

Bill grumbled, eyes darting between the three of you and the man he loved, but he turned with a resigned sigh. Frank grinned, a fond look on his face.

Tess busied herself setting the table, ignoring the way Frank scolded her for doing his job, only shooting him an exasperated smile. After a moment, Frank realised there were only four chairs set around the small garden table.

“Oh, I think there’s another in my art room.” He said, as he looked between you and the four chairs.

Unable to help yourself, “You have an art room?” You asked, which was probably the most you had spoken for the past few days. You ignored the way Joel seemed to perk up at your words, a glance going between him and Tess.

Frank smiled. He seemed to do a lot of that. “You wanna have a look?” He asked kindly, nodding his head and starting towards the house.

“Go on.” Joel encouraged with his monotone murmur. You hesitantly followed Frank into the house.

You didn’t look around much, instead opting to focus on keeping close to the man in front of you. If you looked to closely, you think you might see similarities to the home you had with your dad, and after already shutting down once on this journey, you figured that Joel wouldn’t be too pleased if you did it again.

It was wracking your nerves, the closer you got to Frank’s art room. You wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, not even your father, had he been here, but you were scared. You had gotten so good at removing yourself from a multitude of situations, but the concept of art had you grounded in place no matter how much you might have wanted to fade back into your mind. You can remember nights spent staying up late, dipping brushes in colours that resembled the world around you almost too accurately. The gentle swipe of paint across paper, canvas, walls, wood — whatever your father could give you, at the time.

It was the best thing you had.

You realise, now, that you had been escaping from the world for your whole life. Only back then, it had been to nicer lands, beauty put down on different mediums so you could physically touch it, could know it was true, it was real. The only thing that had changed was your method of escaping, really. Where you had once clambered for colours and depictions of the world in a different light, you now escaped to the very depths of your mind, hidden deep under sadness and fear and loneliness. Somewhere that you couldn’t be disturbed, wouldn’t have to think about the world and what it had taken from you.

You’re scared of wanting that old method of escape back.

When you enter the art room, you know your fear is valid. You know that the longing you have for paints and pencils and whatever supplies your father could get his hands on was back, or perhaps it was just the longing for your father returning full force from where you had buried it. Whatever it might have been, it was overwhelming.

It made everything feel like it meant more. Like the careful brushes of meticulously selected colours on white canvases was personal to you.

Frank’s art was covering the entire room, a stack of empty canvases in one corner, dwarfed by the amount of wooden frames that had sketched or painted pictures stretched over them. It was bright in here, the colours seemingly glowing from the light that was shining through the large windows, looking out on parts of the garden.

“This one isn’t finished,” Frank said, his voice quiet, and you looked to where you had forgotten he was standing. He leant heavily on his walking stick, gesturing with his free hand toward a canvas stood upon an easel — the first easel you had seen. When your dad first encouraged your interest in art, he had told you all about what his time in art class at school had been like. He’d told you about the easels, the shitty school paints — which were heavenly compared to what yours had been like — and his own art teacher. But easels weren’t the most common thing, and so you had never used one.

The painting that stood upon the strange-looking three legged stand looked like the beginnings of Bill’s face, blue eyes surrounded by carefully mixed colours to bring about the contours of the man’s skin. It was much better than anything you had ever painted.

“Have you ever painted?” Frank asked, after a few moments of hesitation. He’d lived in the apocalyptic world, too, but he hadn’t grown up in it. The man had more awareness than you expected, given his presence in such a protected home, but you supposed that if he knew Tess and Joel, it made sense that he would be sensitive of the world’s horrors.

You looked at the paintbrushes set out to dry beside an open window, and quickly drew your gaze away. “Yeah,” You responded, voice uncharacteristically gentle. You cleared your throat, annoyed at your own involuntary vulnerability. “My dad used to get paints, before I got to Boston.”

If Frank noticed your choice of pronoun ‘I’ and not ‘we’, he didn’t comment on it. He let your words settle for a moment, and you realised this was probably the most open you had been, the most you had spoken of your life before Boston. It was almost… sad. You think your dad would’ve loved Bill and Frank’s home, and the knowledge that nobody else would ever be able to consider what he would like was a painful admission.

“Well, I’m sure you could take some back with you.” Frank offered, a gentle smile on his face. He seemed to know more than he let on, even when your words were limited and he didn’t know you, hadn’t even met you before today.

You tried to brush your discomfort away, tried to unwind the stiffness to your shoulders. “That’s okay.” You said, fiddling with a button on your jacket as you took one more glance around the room, an uncomfortable tightening in your throat. “We’d better get back.” You prompted, walking to the chair in front of the easel and picking it up, gesturing for Frank to lead the way back to the garden.

“You alright?” Joel asked quietly as you set the chair down by his side, taking a seat in it a moment after as Frank and Tess began chatting away.

“I’m fine.” You snapped.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was on the way back from Bill and Frank’s that everything seemed to go wrong. For this portion of the journey, you made sure to cling on to every slither of awareness you had, digging your claws into consciousness and not letting go. You wouldn’t admit it, but the whole situation on the way there had shaken you.

You supposed it was different to the way blanking out in the QZ had been. After all, there was a certain amount of control in the QZ, much less of a wild factor than there was in the outside world. You could anticipate everything that you might come into contact with at the QZ, and each time, nothing was scary enough for you to even consider holding on to consciousness. Out in the real world, that was very different.

Despite travelling in it to the Quarantine Zone, there wasn’t a whole lot of that you could remember after the incident with your father. Everything was unpredictable, out here, and you were foolish to forget that. Especially after what it cost you the first time.

There may have been something else, though, something that had your fingers grasping onto reality so tightly you didn’t think you would ever let go. And that was the fact that it wasn’t just yourself that you were putting in danger, anymore, but Tess and Joel, too. And would you ever be able to forgive yourself if you came to awareness, just to see their blood on your hands? To find their bodies lay still? To be at fault once again for killing the only people left in the world that would see you safe? You could pretty confidently say no, you would never be able to forgive such a thing.

Even with your best attempts to cling on to your own awareness, it was clear that Joel and Tess didn’t quite trust your efforts. Given the fact that they refused to let you take a watch when night fell early, stopping to wait the darkness out just over halfway back to the Zone. Tess had already taken first watch, shaking Joel awake despite your offer to watch the area for him, so it was just you and Joel, Tess’s breaths long-since evened out.

“You can get some rest, y’know.” Joel said, his voice low to avoid waking Tess. You were well aware that she was a light sleeper, though you couldn’t blame her. It was the apocalypse, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like you were able to catch much sleep, too hyper focused on staying present to drift even into slumber, fearing you wouldn’t become conscious afterwards, fearing you would just wake.

“‘M fine, Joel.” You grumbled in response, eyes flitting around the rustling grass surrounding you, as if something was going to jump out at any moment.

Joel huffed, something between exasperation and vague amusement in it, and shook his head. “Sure, you are, kid.” He responded, adjusting his grip on the gun and resigning himself to the fact that you were going to stay up, no matter what he said. “Not gonna let anythin’ hurt you, you do know that, right?” He asked, after a long pause, and ignored the unpleasant way your face twisted.

“Why do you two help me? I don’t get it. Not done anything to help you, so why?” You questioned, instead of answering his question, too desperate to know to avoid the opening in the conversation. Joel sighed, a roll of his eyes, a deflection, as always.

“So impossible to believe that we could just be good people?” Joel replied, after your expectant silence lingered on uncomfortably. He shuffled, pausing when Tess moved, but only turned in her sleep.

You huffed, and Joel tried to ignore the way he was sure it sounded just like him. “Yes, it is impossible to believe that. You found me after I…” You paused, unsure how to go about admitting something you didn’t even remember. “After that FEDRA guard. Good people wouldn’t help me, after seeing that.”

“Been in your shoes, kid.” Joel said, at last, and you furrowed your brows at his answer. And the nickname he had taken to calling you. Joel didn’t exactly want to talk about it, both for the unpleasantness he had experienced and the worry that you’d retreat if he was honest. He could barely even explain the why to himself, so he had no idea how he could formulate it into words to tell you. “Not a good place to be, even worse if you’re alone.” He admitted, though he hadn’t been alone for as long as he could remember. There had always been Tommy, and after Tommy there was Sarah, and then his brother returned, but even then — he had Tess. But despite all that company, Joel knew exactly how it felt to be isolated, to be alone in your situation, to feel no other option than to retreat into yourself to get through the day.

He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone you.

You wanted to deny it, to tell Joel that you weren’t alone. That you already had a family you loved, that you already had a dad who cared about you, but what could you say? The truth was, he was gone.

“Get some sleep.” Joel said, dismissing the conversation before you could figure out anything to say. You just frowned at him, staring at him like his expression held all the answers, but as always, Joel revealed nothing. No reasoning, no answers, nothing. Finally, you turned away from him, resting your head against your backpack, eyes remaining open so you could keep an eye on the forest ahead of you for the last few hours of the night.

When the light finally a swept the last of the darkness away, the three of you set off again. Now, you were at the final stretch of your journey — so close to the QZ you could almost smell the pungent scent of fire and unrest. You never thought you’d be glad to see the decimated land around the Boston zone, but here you were, five steps ahead of Tess and Joel, who shared secret glances, communicating in a language you couldn’t understand.

They joined your side when you paused, waiting for them, just along the edge of where FEDRA usually patrolled. You looked to the two adults expectantly, not sure where you’d be entering the Zone, and figuring you must’ve been out of it if they had ever actually told you that part.

Now this, this was where it all went downhill.

“On your knees.” A voice from behind the three of you said, and you recognised the sound of a familiar FEDRA officer, from your time spent as a trainee. You just hoped he wouldn’t remember you. “I said, get on your knees!” He repeated, when the three of you had hesitated a moment too long, stepping forward and jabbing the end of his gun into the back of your knee. You grit your teeth as your knees buckled from the hit, dropping to the ground with your hands raised. You watched Joel and Tess follow when the guard moved towards them. Joel’s jaw was clenched.

“We’re just lookin’ to get to the QZ, man, that’s all.” Tess said, keeping her hands in the air and her head tilted as she tried to negotiate, as usual.

“Just a precaution, ma’am.” The guard responded, a snark to his voice. Despite what he said, when you first arrived to the QZ, there was no precautions this far out. In fact, it was only when you stalked towards the gate that guns were trained on you, your wrists bound until they got you through the main gate to test you.

He was patting down Tess, and you would’ve sworn you could hear Joel grinding his teeth together, clenching his jaw shut so tightly you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had broken. Meanwhile, you focused on trying to remember the name of the guard, trying to recall his temperament, whether he was easily swayed. You blinked your eyes shut, trying to see through the haze that clouded your memories as the guy moved on to Joel, but without seeing the guy’s face, it was too difficult.

“What kinda QZ has precautions this far out?” Joel grumbled as the guard moved along, checking the distance towards the gate with squinted eyes, and trying his best not to clench his fists as the guard moved towards you.

“You born yesterday, man? World’s fucked.” The guard answered, stepping away from you and moving to go around to see the front of the three of you. “Well, I never.” He chuckled, catching sight of your face as it fell, finally putting the voice to the face as you looked at him. “Don’t recall seeing your name on the exist list, trainee.” FEDRA had a bunch of awful guards, but this guy… Jerry, you were pretty fucking sure, was amongst the worst of them.

“Not a trainee, anymore.” You bit out in response, practically feeling the two adults beside you tensing up at the FEDRA guard’s recognition of you. “You even know my name, Jerry?” You asked, tilting your head upwards with your best reinvention of the careless expression that used to rile the man up so much.

He smiled, a grin full of rotten teeth and breath that stung your eyes as he leaned towards you. You resisted the urge to throw up over his shoes as he said your name, proving your hopeful taunt incorrect.

“Alright, now, no need for trouble.” Joel said placatingly, trying to keep the grimace off of his face in exchange for a more… reasonable expression. “We ain’t Infected, just a couple of folks tryin’ to be on their way.”

“Shut your mouth, and mind your business, fella.” Jerry spat towards Joel, before he looked back to you, a grin on that ugly face. “I’ve been trying to get the dirt to have you hung for months, now. Unauthorised exit? Well, that ought’a do it.” He said, morbid amusement dancing across his face. You just bared your teeth at him, a sarcastic expression donning your features.

“Careful, Jerry. You’re soundin’ awfully obsessed. Didn’t they out you for that, once already?” You asked, sarcastically, recalling the way he had been shamed outright by a higher up for getting on the trainee’s cases too much. FEDRA was strict already, so if he was getting publicly scolded for his obsessive behaviour, you figured it must’ve been bad.

You saw the way Joel was tensed up out of the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare turn to look at him, or even attempt to see how Tess was fairing.

It was when Jerry reared back, his rotten teeth bared, a sneer pulling at his features, that you saw Joel move. He’d noticed a second before you did, the way that the FEDRA guard was reaching for his smaller weapon, his handgun, barely getting it out of the holster before Joel was launching up and forwards, pushing Jerry and falling alongside him as they rolled down the slight slope to go towards the QZ gate.

“Joel!” Tess yelled out, a curse falling from her lips as she grabbed the stuff that Jerry had been attempting to confiscate before realising who you were. She dug through her bag, looking for her own gun, too risky to have it on her person this close to the QZ for this goddamn reason. You glanced between her searching frantically and the duo fighting slightly below you, before you caught a glint of metal in one of their hands. Did Joel have a knife? Did he have a knife, or was that Jerry’s? Was Jerry about to fucking stab Joel, who had tackled him to protect you?

You stumbled down the slight decline after the two of them, just as Jerry was catching the upper hand, something red trickling down his sleeve. You pulled the very gun he had tried to pull on you from its holster at his side, before he could even react to you having moved from where you were. He was slow, this guy, but that didn’t mean he was incapable. He was freakishly strong, and he bared bloody teeth at you as he moved to swing the blade in his hands down.

A crack interrupted his movements, blood dancing a crimson path down the side of his forehead.

Jerry’s body slumped backwards, falling away from where he had been about to fucking kill Joel Miller, all for what? His helmet made a dull thunk against the ground as it connected, and Joel was groaning, shoving the deadweight off of him with a bit of a struggle.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Tess asked, grasping onto Joel’s shoulders to help him up, only for him to hiss and pull away, and you vaguely saw Tess’s hand covered in a sticky sheen of blood that had leaked through the material of Joel’s jacket. “Jesus, Joel, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” She scolded, pulling the jacket away and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt to look at the wound. She dug through her bag to pull a few rags out of it, pressing the material against the fucking stab wound, and waiting for Joel’s steady hand to take over before she moved away. “Come on, we can’t wait around. If they’re patrolling this far out, something must’ve gone down, and I doubt anyone’s far enough to have not heard that.” She said, nodding pointedly towards the gun gripped tightly in your fingers.

At her reminder, you shivered, taking the knife from Jerry’s limp hand and replacing it with the gun. You wiped the blood — Joel’s blood — off of the blade onto the side of your jacket, before shoving it back in its place on Jerry’s vest, which you hadn’t even realised was there. You wondered if Joel knew, before he decided to attack him.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You blinked, and realised you were already back at the apartment you stayed in with Joel and Tess.

Joel was sat at the table, med kit set out open in front of him, with Tess being nowhere in sight. He barely spared you a glance as you stood up from the sofa you didn’t remember sitting on, your brows furrowed as you looked around the room, as if the answers—the memories—you wanted would be revealed.

“She went to trade what we managed to get from Bill and Frank’s.” Joel told you, not even looking in your direction as he focused on fixing himself up. He had the rag in his hand once again, wiping at the blood still trickling from his wound. You wondered if Tess didn’t tell you where she was going, or if Joel just knew you weren’t present if she did.

You didn’t even know what had sent you back to the depths of your mind, this time. Was it shooting Jerry? Killing somebody whilst actually being fully responsible for your actions? Was it his threats about getting you hung? Or was it that very wound that Joel was tending to right now? The fact that once again, somebody got hurt, and it was your fault?

“Can you hand me the, uh…” Joel trailed off, gesturing over towards the counter where amber liquid sat in a glass bottle. You went over and grabbed it, placing it down on the table in front of Joel far harsher than you realised you were going to. You hadn’t quite noticed the way anger, or something defensive at least, had settled in your chest, stirring that brimming pot of guilt until it was almost flowing over the edges. “Thanks.” Joel said gruffly, splashing some of the booze onto the rag and pressing it to his shoulder.

You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, to explain himself, but he made no move to do so.

“What is wrong with you?” You said, finally, your voice loud and echoing around the barely furnished room, like it had burst from your chest, like you had no choice in the matter.

“Got stabbed, in case you didn’t notice.” Joel quipped, which seemed even further out of character for him. You vaguely wondered if you had just lost your mind, if this was all some made up scenario playing out in your head.

“Why did you attack him? He didn’t attack you, I—I don’t understand!” You told him, gritting your teeth when Joel just continued tending to his wound, not acknowledging your questioning. Part of you wished Tess was here so she could dismiss you before you could continue, but she was clearly nowhere nearby, given that she hadn’t burst into the room to stop any conflict. “Joel, answer me.”

He finally looked up, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, huh? Somebody’s gotta protect you! Lord knows you don’t do it yourself! Rilin’ that guard up— it was reckless. He could’ve killed you, kid, and what would I have done then?” Joel questioned, his voice louder than your own, a booming thing that had you wanting to retreat. You refused, pushing it down in favour of the confrontation that you’d been putting off for months, by now.

“I can take care of myself.” You answered, spitting the words out like there was a semblance of truth to them. “I’m not your goddamn kid, Joel, there are plenty of other strays you could help out if I had died.” You continued, throwing the nickname back in his face, watching the way he recoiled, something unfamiliar flashing in his eyes.

“Now, you listen—”

He tried to say, only to be interrupted by you continuing on. “No! You’re not my dad, Joel! I already had a dad, okay? I had a dad, and he’s dead, and that’s on me. I won’t go through that again. You gotta stop puttin’ your life on the line for me!”

“Kid…” Joel trailed, the confession not exactly surprising him, but he felt a twinge in his chest nonetheless. He had figured all of this was catalysed by some kind of loss, just going by his own experience with the matter, but he had never known for sure. You were closed off — another way you were just so similar to him, and you’d never spoken about any family.

You closed your eyes, tears brimming in the edges, slipping down your face, and you wiped them away with a rough swipe of your sleeve against your skin. “You don’t understand. It was my fault. If it weren’t for me, he’d—… Every day I’ve been here, I’ve just been wishing we could’ve swapped places, wishing that he was here instead of me, because I can’t do this without my dad. But—But he could’ve, without me.”

“When my Sarah died,” Joel started, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest that just her name brought. “I gave up. I—I lost any will to live, I prayed that it wasn’t real, prayed for God to switch our places, to trade her life for mine. Tried to end it, and when that failed, I got numb. Got lost in my head, ended up fightin’ anybody I crossed paths with, usin’ any excuse to hurt people, even while I was with Tess. Barely even remember it,” Joel continued, a strained laugh falling from his lips, his hand held to his chest in hopes of soothing some of the ache that originated there. “Just remember wakin’ up, covered in—in blood, not knowing who the hell I hurt. So, when I saw you, not even present in your own goddamn head, I figured that wherever you came from, whatever family you might’ve had, they wouldn’t want you ending up like me.”

That pot of guilt in your chest felt like it would explode, even as you blinked back tears, only getting harder the longer Joel spoke, the more he told you. You had never taken him for a religious man, but you supposed you could relate to that, that desperation to just save your family’s life.

“I’ve got too much blood on my hands, kid,” Joel told you, the words going past the literal sense of his own blood, spilled across his palms from that wound that you had caused. It was deeper than that, it was something you related to, like he knew that sensation of fresh blood that plagued you, like it was dripping over your hands all the time. “You gotta wipe yours clean.”

Clearly, that wound on his shoulder wasn’t his only open one. It was there, gaping in his chest, weeping waves of guilt and suffering that hit you with such familiarity. My Sarah. You couldn’t help but think about your dad, couldn’t help wondering if this was how he’d feel, if your places had of swapped.

“He was my dad,” You said desperately, like it could explain everything, like the simple statement could convey everything you couldn’t put into other words. That’s not something you can replace, something you can change, something you can forget. You opened your mouth to continue, but all that happened was the tears stinging your eyes fell, and you turned your head to the side, hoping Joel wouldn’t see the way your lip was trembling.

Joel’s arms were warm when he wrapped them around you, blood still tacky on his shirt where it pressed to your jacket, but you barely noticed it. “She was my daughter.” He said in response, and suddenly it made sense.

If anything about your relationship with Joel was true, it was that you were mirror images. Reflections. Two sides of the same coin, two sides of the same story, one that told of grief and loss and pain that would never go away. His response was the answer you didn’t even realise you had been waiting for. He was my dad, and she was my daughter. Not replacements, not something to try and fill the gaps. The acknowledgment was everything you needed to wrap your arms around Joel, to squeeze his shirt between your fists and cry, to cry for the dad that you lost, for the daughter he lost, for everything the two of you would never have again.

You weren’t Joel’s daughter, and he wasn’t your dad.

That much was true, and you knew it, because you had each other. And maybe, come morning, you would still leave the apartment like you had been considering doing all along, or maybe you would stay. Maybe, you’d let yourself have this, this little family made up of torn apart pieces, of members too damaged to fit just right, of a dad who lost his daughter, and a daughter who lost her dad.

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