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theetherealbloom · 2 years

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UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 4

Chapter Four: An Orchestration of Dissonance And Innocent Surrender

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Mention of catcalling, men being awful, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 11.1k

A/N: HELLO UM! THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU AGAIN! UM AHHHH T^T I love you guys so much, thank you for all the kind words and comments. The reblogs and then PUTTING ME IN FIC RECS WHAT– O_O Thank you guys again so so so so so much! You deserve the world <3 And as always, I put my little outline and thoughts at the end notes! Mwa ilysm

Song: Bigger Than Love by Oh Wonder

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TLOU WORLD – 2023

OLD ABANDONED TRUCK STOP– DAY

You three are at an abandoned truck stop and fully aged, weathered vehicles surround the area. The sun shone on your skin as you waited for Ellie just outside the restroom door after she demanded privacy for a bit to relieve herself. You didn’t question the kid, it was the least you could do for her.

You’re secretly admiring Joel from a distance, and you watch Joel prepare the red large gas can, a clear long tube, and a siphon. Promptly, you hear the sound of the restroom door slamming open and you look at Ellie, “You good?” She nods cheerfully at you, “Yep. All good.” And then you both approach Joel, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as you did, and you slowly take notice that the asphalt has lifted from the ground strangely. You stop walking and quizzically stare at the lifted asphalt, your eyebrows knit together and you kneel down to take a better look at it, Ellie looks at you like you’ve gone insane, “Are you alright?” she asks you, and you keep your eyes focused on the ground, “Yeah, just… It’s hopefully nothing.” You say in response and push yourself upright, “Let’s go see what Joel is up to.”

Joel is currently kneeling on one knee and feeding both tubes in the tank, Ellie stands in front of him while you stand to the left of her, “We have to do this every hour?” she asked in a bored tone. Joel glances at her in acknowledgment then continues on with the siphon, “Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water.” He grabs a rag to create a seal around the tubes, “Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.” He says as you and Ellie continue to watch him keenly, “So where’d you go?” she questioned, and he looks up at the both of you, “Pretty much nowhere.” Joel subsequently blows air into the short tube, which forces air through the short tube and increases the pressure of the air above the gas in the tank, causing it to flow through the longer tube and into the gas can. You lean your weight on one of the rusted cars and fold your arms in front of you.

“Nice! How does that work?” Ellie asks Joel and you tilt your head to the side to listen to his response, “It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid… travels against gravity because pressure…” Ellie’s lips are pressed together as she says, “You don’t know.” He stares at her before asserting, “I know it works.” She chuckles and you smirk at him, “Want me to explain it or…” He only mumbles, “Smartass,” and you roll your eyes, something truly possessed you to be bold for a moment, because you teasingly reply, “But you secretly like it.”

It earns you a look from him that causes your heartbeat to accelerate and it suddenly becomes a little harder to breathe, he only pulls away because he spots Ellie turning around to wander off, “No wanderin’.” He tells her seriously, she stops short and sighs, before saying, “Okay. This is your fault then.” She places her bag atop one of the abandoned, rusty cars, and pulls out a book with the title ‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston’, Joel watches her bewildered and perplexed as she reads out one of the puns from the book, “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary.” She gives a little laugh and you smile at her merriment as she shows Joel the book cover, “‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston.’ Volume Too. Look. You get it? ‘Too’ Like, T-O-O.” And Joel huffs and begins to stand up with a peeved look, “Oh Jesus.” But Ellie pushes on and says, “What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” You and Joel look at each other, then at Ellie, waiting for her to say the punch line, and you watch her as she slowly leans forward slowly before saying, “‘An algae bra.’ Like, algae bra.” She laughs out loud before speaking again, “I stayed up all night wondering–” To which Joel shakes his head at her, “No,” but this doesn’t deter her at all and goes on, “ where the sun went and then it dawned on me.”

Seemingly annoyed he gruffly says to her, “Feel free to wait in the truck,” and she exhales, “Okay, but just know, you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back.” Ellie puts her book in her pack and before leaving you both she says, “There’s nothing you can do to stop him.” Joel says nothing as he also leans on the old rusting car with his arms crossed, and Ellie goes to wait in the truck. You let the silence settle and give him a little bit of peace before calling out to him, “Joel.” He says nothing but he does bring his eyes to look at you. “You know it’s okay to like her. Right?” You said with the softest eyes and kind smile, and he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” You deeply exhale and push yourself off the hood of the car to stand in front of him, “You can’t or you won’t?” And he looks down at his boots, “Can’t.”

You didn’t want to put any more discomfort and decided to simply nod instead, “Okay.” He slowly brings his head up to give you a suspicious look, “Okay?” You nod, “Mhm, okay.” His eyes narrow, “That’s it? No tryin’ to change my mind?” You shrug in response, “I have a feeling you’ll do that on your own. Anyways, the gas can is full.” You raise your eyebrows, “Need any help carrying that thing?” He grumpily bends down to pick up the heavy gas can and his voice timber and low says, “I could carry you and this back to the truck if I wanted to.” You feel your brain short-circuits for a second, the warmth spreads throughout your whole body and your eyes widened in embarrassment, “Um, I’m just gonna… mhm.” And you turn to run to the truck. Joel lets out a breathy chuckle, smirking the whole time as he watches your figure run.

ON THE ROAD - NOON

The blue Chevy pulls out of the gas station and Joel has one hand on the steering wheel and his right rest on the console, while you are sitting next to him in the passenger seat, looking out at the window studying the environment, and Ellie is content in the backseat. You feel an unease settle in and create a home in your bones, not knowing what could happen terrifies you. Every possibility in your mind pops in and out, and you ponder which part of the video game did they keep or change.

“Must’ve been some truck.” Ellie says as she peers through the window glass at the back of the vehicle, Joel grunts in agreement and explains why the highways are so clear, “Yeah, they used to stick big ass plows on the back and clear the road for their tanks and such.” Ellie finds all of this very exciting and exclaims, “I wanna see a tank!” Joel looks at her from the rearview mirror and simply says, “You will.” Your eyes shift to look at Joel as he keeps talking with a wearied cynicism, “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff, but they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.”

Ellie digs through the utility pocket behind the passenger seat to find another cassette tape, she raises up enthusiastic and eager, “I got something. Here. This make you all nostalgic?” She says as she pushes up to show Joel, he takes it and you peer over to look at the title cover, ‘Hank Williams, The Original Singles Collection’, Joel replies, “This is actually before my time.” And Ellie goes to sit back properly in the backseat, “Great.”

He hums appreciatively, “It’s a winner, though.” When he places the cassette tape in the player, the rattling sound of plastic can be heard before the music begins and he cranks up the volume. Joel miraculously smiles as he listens to the song, “Oh, man.” And you raise an eyebrow at him, “Of course, you’d like this, it’s cowboy music.” You said and he lets out a small but beautiful chuckle, which causes your body to heat up. The young girl continues to explore the back of the truck, digging through the other utility pocket, you hear a quiet rustling of paper as she whips out a magazine, “Got something else.”

Joel looks at the rearview mirror again to look at Ellie, while you turn to look at what she has and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and so does hers. “It’s light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.” Your shoulders begin to shake as you try and hold in your laugh as Joel seemingly panics, “No. No, no, no. Put that back, that’s not for kids.” Ellie doesn’t listen and continues to flip through the pages, “How would he even walk around with that thing?” God, you tried to hold it in but couldn’t anymore, you’re now full-on grinning and laughing so loud and carefree, while Joel is trying his best to get Ellie to cooperate, “Please get rid of it.”

“Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” Ellie says as she analyzes the magazine, while you’re practically wheezing and happy that they incorporated this part of the video game. Joel practically gives up but Ellie decides to innocently say, “Why are all these pages stuck together?” Joel has a baffled look on his face as he lets out an, “Uh… The…” Your mouth hangs wide open for a moment and you curl your hand into a fist, bringing it to your mouth to bite back from cackling again. Ellie puts him out of his misery and slaps him on the shoulder, “I’m just fucking with you.” And throws the adult magazine out the window, it flutters out into the wind and onto the side of the road, yelling out, “Bye-bye, dude!”

You smile and think to yourself, joy itself always seems to end before we want it to. Brief and ephemeral. So, this time, you decide to let go and in this moment you can breathe. It lives in your periphery. In the corner of your eyes. Suddenly, it shows up and the surprise adds to its beauty. A gratitude for all that follows

ON THE ROAD AND TO THE FOREST - CIVIL TWILIGHT

Time moves quickly as Joel continues to drive and Ellie silently watches the view from the window. You take note of the cows grazing on grass, the cars that were left to rot, and the familiar landmarks crumbling down as mother intended to take back what was hers. They must have cried themselves a hurricane because there was an earthquake and an avalanche of change. The echo, as vast as the equator, spreads across a world of bottled-up anger, and it's too late to prevent it now.

As the hours pass by and the sun slowly begins to set, you check on Ellie from the rearview, she looks fatigued from all the driving and so do you, it’s been a while since your last road trip, and you barely had time for yourself since you were stuck in the lab all day and night. Joel sees your weary eyes and frown, he also sees a similar look to Ellie, and he decides to tell you both, “All right. That’s enough for today.” He places both of his hands to turn the wheel to the right, driving off the road and into the field, straight into a thick forest filled with tall evergreen trees.

The truck comes to a stop and you all prepare to camp out for the night. You help Joel cook and prepare dinner and Ellie keeps herself occupied as she pokes around the dirt with a stick. The smell of canned ravioli fills your lungs and your mouth begins to water. Joel taps the edge of the pot, indicating that it’s cooked and you call for Ellie to sit down for dinner. The three of you sit down in a semi-circle, with you in the middle, and Joel and Ellie on each side. You gently blow on the hot ravioli before bringing the food into your mouth, chewing quietly, and amusingly watch Ellie scarf down her food quickly. Joel looks at her kind of bothered by her manners, “Slow down.” He said, and she replies with a mouthful of food, “This is slow. What am I even eating?” Joel cuts hit food using his fork and knife and answers, “That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” Ellie brings another piece of pasta and answers while chewing, “That guy was good.” Joel hums in agreement, “I actually agree.” And you nod appreciatively as you finish your food.

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks Joel and you look to him for his response, “I figure I’d sleep tonight and drive tomorrow all day, all night get us to Wyoming by next morning.” Ellie plays with her food as she asks, “So can we start a fire? I’m freezing.” Joel gives a pointed stare, “Now why am I gonna tell you no?” She shrugs and guesses, “Because the infected will see the smoke.” He shakes his head at her, “No. Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for infected, anyway.” The answer dawns on Ellie and asks, “People?” And Joel nods, his answer to her question. She continues to press for more information, “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” And you frown, knowing exactly what people do during war or a crisis, morals are thrown out the window and everyone can do as they please. Every crime, assault, and misdemeanor is seen as means to an end, which is to take and survive. Your knuckles turn white as you grip your fork, angry at the world and the people who choose to do all forms of wrong. Joel warns her, “Well, they’ll have way more in mind than that.” Ellie nods while pouting, “Okay.”

LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – NIGHT

Your eyes are well-versed in the dark and the mind was then created to illumine the heart. And when every constellation suddenly emerged, the remote was drawn so close by telescopes and computations. You inhale, exhale, and reset. Realizing, every living creature is in a continual state of uncertainty. Even with all of your past, you’ve just scratched the surface of what it all implies. Ellie prepares her sleeping bag and so do you, placing yours in between hers and Joel’s. “Actually smells kinda good.” Ellie said as she continues to unfold the sleeping bag, you hear Joel comment, “Well, that would be Frank’s then.” She tucks herself in and you help her as you do, lightly patting the blanket as she settles comfortably. You do the same and now you’re flat on your back as you gaze at the stars illuminating the darkness and listen to the quiet rustling of the branches and leaves of the trees, the melodies sung by the chirping of crickets. Joel checks the chamber of the rifle and ensures that it’s loaded and ready just in case of an ambush, then he places it next to him. You hear Ellie take something out of her backpack and you had a sneaking suspicion it was the No Pun Intended book. The light of the lantern slowly fades away and the shadows follow the rules and the darkness expands around all of you.

Joel is facing away from the both of you and Ellie whips out her flashlight and quickly glances at her favorite book, clicks off the light, and aloud she calls out both of your names, you look at her but Joel doesn’t respond at first, you slide out a little to lean a bit forward to his side and tap him on the shoulder, “What?” he asks, and Ellie responds, “Can I ask you a serious question?” And without hesitation, he says, “Yeah.” You smile knowingly at what was about to happen as she questions, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?” A beat passes between the three of you, and you and Joel whisper simultaneously, “Because he was outstanding in his field.” Ellie rises from her sleeping bag and exclaims, “You dicks!”

A large grin spreads across your face and Joel turns around to face the other direction, Ellie begins to interrogate the two of you, “Did both of you read this?” You hear the smile in Joel’s voice as he answers, “No.” And you give an airy chuckle, “Nope.” He sighs and then tells you both, “Now go to sleep.” Ellie makes a noise of suspicion but says nothing as she tucks the book into her sleeping pouch, the hoot of an owl can be heard from above, and the howls of coyotes from a distance.

Ellie is also gazing up at the stars with you now and begins to appreciate the way they glow and shimmer. You move your head to look at Ellie and whisper, “Psst. Ellie…” She turns her head to your side, “Yeah?” And in a hushed tone, you ask, “Do you wanna learn something about constellations?” She nods enthusiastically, “Yeah!” And you begin to whisper the explanation and details, you point and trace your fingers at the stars, your rickety astrology determined to give her hope, “Orion's belt is right above the equator of the Earth. Everyone, and everywhere can see just stars in that area. A star placed above one of the poles, such as the North Star, and concealed from us in the opposing hemisphere, obstructed by Earth itself.”

She is looking at you with her eyes as big as summer tomatoes, full of admiration and awe at your intelligence like you have all the answers, and wonders if she will ever be a woman like you. She seeks an answer to her next question, “Is Orion like a place?” You smile and in a soft voice you say, “No, he’s someone from greek mythology. In the stores, he was a giant and very handsome hunter, who had many affairs and lovers. Either his assault on or admiration for a goddess named Artemis, another god named Zeus placed him amongst the stars as punishment. Stories and text sometimes get lost in translation.”

This is when she learned to wish on stars, content she hums an appreciative thank you and you give a small smile in return. After another beat passes, Ellie poses a new question, this time aimed at Joel, who had been listening to the two of you the whole time but stayed quiet, “Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”

Her words hang in the air briefly, “No one’s gonna find us.” Joel reassures her and Ellie responds with a quiet, “Okay.” She turns in for the night and begins to fall asleep. There is a sudden weight on your chest when she asked her query, and you suddenly feel nauseous at the thought of anything happening to Ellie and Joel. You close your eyes and swallow away the urge to vomit, and with the darkness, you’ve seen, your tired eyes rest and allow yourself to sleep for a while. But if you had stayed up just a little longer, you would have heard Joel leave his sleeping bag and reach for his rifle, and his footsteps walking a distance away from you and Ellie, ensuring your safety as he watches and anticipates any sign of danger, his guilt for scaring the girl keeps him up all night and the thought of you getting hurt. He holds his rifle ready, protecting the two of you who quietly snore into the night.

LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – DAWN

The sound of chirping birds wakes you and you groggily sit up. You look to your left to see Ellie who was still sound asleep, and then you see Joel standing watch with his rifle, you have a suspicion he didn’t actually sleep and Ellie’s concern kept him up. You sigh and quietly leave your sleeping bag, down your arms, a thousand satellites discover the cool breeze in the air, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself to salvage some warmth. You stretch your arms up to the sky, trying to wake your body to begin the day, then you hear the lime-green grass rustle and shake, creating whispers of sound beneath Joel’s boots as he walks toward you, glancing over your shoulder before turning to face him.

You feel his confident presence and your heart skips a beat, he greets you with his voice thick and smooth, “Mornin’.” You warmly say good morning to him in a hushed voice, you take a good look at him to see his deep eyebags, completely exhausted, and you ask, “Did you even sleep at all?” He doesn’t deny it as he shook his head, “No, I couldn’t.” You hum in response, already confirming what you thought, next, you inquire, “Do we have any coffee that I could brew? I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

“Did you not sleep well last night? Could hear you snorin’ from where I was standing.” Joel said with his tone straightforward and deep, you shrug, “Sometimes I wake up tired, and besides, I enjoy a good cup of coffee to start my day, it’s my morning ritual back home.” You make your way to the pouch of coffee grounds, open it, and inhale the aroma, and Joel observes you as you do.

You begin to brew both of your coffee, making enough to fit two insulated tumblers. You make your way into the forest, already telling Joel you needed to pee, and him reminding you in his thick Texan accent, “If you don’t get your ass back here in five minutes, I’m comin' to look for you.” After finding a bush and relieving yourself, you stand by one of the tall thick trees, leaning your weight against the trunk of the tree and crossing your arms as you watch Ellie and Joel from a distance.

You close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself and your breathing, trying to recall parts of the game you’ve seen, a little peek at what could be adapted. Unfortunately, you knew the ending of the first and second games, and you knew there was nothing you could do for the first, but the second one however…

Joel yells your name, telling you to come back already and you jog your way back, not wanting to make them wait. No one says anything as you pack up camp and hop in the truck, this time letting Ellie sit in the passenger seat while you sit in the back. The engine of the truck revs to life and Joel drives you out of the woods and back onto the highway.

Joel takes a loud sip of his coffee while you are still blowing away the steam, Ellie doesn’t seem to be impressed with the drink as she comments, “Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” With one hand on the steering wheel, he lowers his thermos and retorts, “Well, theirs was a lot fresher than Bill saved up but, yeah, this is what they sold.” The young girl looks at it in disgust, “Smells like… burnt shit.” Joel wanting to be slightly petty, takes a long, loud, pointed sip of his coffee, before turning to Ellie saying, “Eyes on the map, or else I’m askin’ you to switch seats with Birdie.”

Your heart flutters at the nickname but you hide your smile by sipping your own coffee, looking out the window as you do. Ellie smirks knowingly at Joel but doesn’t push any further, she begins to give directions, “76 West, and then… 70 West for, like, ever. Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” And to your surprise, Joel indulges her, “Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody.” Ellie straightens the map to find the tower, “Cody. Cody… Cody. Man. That is deep up in there.” Joel glances then reply, “Yeah.” The young curious kid asks him, “And if he’s not there?” He thoughtfully sighs, “Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of them in Wyoming.”

“Chee-Yen.” Ellie tries to pronounce it, and Joel corrects her, “Cheyenne.” She looks at him in disbelief, “Che… Really?” He nods as she goes on to trace her finger along the map, “Cheyenne, Laramie… Casper? What’s his name?” Joel then asks, “Whose name?” She throws back, “Your brother.” He grunts out, “Tommy.” You smile to yourself, knowing that tone of voice is him trying to build invisible walls around himself to protect whatever he has left of his family. “Younger or older?” Ellie persists, and he answers immediately, “Younger.”

“Why isn’t he with you?” She asked and you watch Joel try to evade her inquiry, “Long story.” Ellie never knowing when to give up, persists, “Is it longer than twenty-five hours? Because I think that’s what we got.” Joel looks at Ellie with a pointed stare, mouth slightly open ready to scold her but realizes she has a point. He glances at the rearview to see you looking back at him, waiting for his choice.

His eyes go back to the road as he speaks, “Tommy’s what we used to call a joiner. Dreams of becoming a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm.”

Ellie turns to him quizzically but stays silent as he carries on, “It’s what they called that war. It doesn’t matter. Point is, being in the Army didn’t make him feel much of a hero. Cut to twelve years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group making their way up to Boston which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.” He glances at the rearview mirror again and this time you aren’t staring back, you’re resting your head on the window, listening intently, “It’s where we met Tess.”

He takes a swig of his coffee before continuing, “And that whole crew, we… Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joining the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen.” Joel shakes his head in disapproval and his tone shifts into cynicism, “Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of them… delusional.”

You blink blankly and frown, not agreeing with his view but understanding where he’s coming from. His world ended when Sarah died, and since she’s gone he has no reason to go back to the way things were.

“‘Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies too. So now he’s on his own out there and… I gotta go get him.” He states and takes a long sip of the rest of his coffee, while Ellie tries to make sense of his story, another question pops into her mind as she quietly asks him, “If you don’t think there’s hope for the world why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?” A beat passes, and then he answers grimly, “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep going for family. That’s about it.”

Ellie moves her eyes to look at him, “I’m not family?” And he shakes his head, “No. You’re cargo.” Your form shrinks a little bit and think to yourself, and you secretly figure that Joel doesn’t mean that, but doesn’t want her treating him like a father yet.

You quietly exhale and will yourself to stop bouncing your leg up and down, grounding yourself. “And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” Ellie nods before bringing up more possibilities, “What if you don’t find him?” It doesn’t take him long to reply, “I will.” She shoots back, “How do you know?” With a voice so sure and confident, he says, “I’m persistent.”

And you swore you saw him glance at you from the rearview mirror for a millisecond, but you weren’t so sure, you chalked it up to your wishful thinking. It was quiet for a bit before Joel speaks to Ellie, “You got up pretty early. If you wanna grab more sleep…” Ellie immediately replies, “Pfft. I’m not even tired.”

Ellie was in fact tired, after ten minutes of saying that, she fell into a deep sleep, and her snores echoed in the car. After two or three hours Joel pulls over at the side of the road, telling you to switch seats with Ellie since he needs help reading the map. You decided not to question it and got out of the truck as he did the same. You watched him quietly open the door, and carry Ellie from the passenger side to the back seat where he gently set her.

You climb into the passenger seat and wait for Joel to sit in the driver’s seat. The map was now on your lap and you gently traced the piece of paper, lines stretching out, with too many miles to count. Dots reminds you of where you’ve been, sometimes it feels like your inner compass breaks, and your steady true north fades. You try and reassure yourself it’ll be just fine, that whatever comes next, you’ll handle it together.

Joel quietly speaks your name so as to not disturb Ellie, you look up at him from the map, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the armrest console, “Tell me somethin’ good about your world.” He grumbles, and you stagger a bit before saying, “You actually believe what I said back then? You believe me?”

He shrugs with one shoulder and taps on the steering wheel, “There’s a fuckin’ apocalypse. My guess is that anythin’ could be possible now.” You lightly chuckle, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to come up with an answer, any kind of answer, and you settle for the truth, “I don’t know. Besides the fact, we have no infected and our technology is more advanced, everything is still the same. Same landmarks, problems, the people hate the government but still need it, choosing the lesser of two evils and everyday people trying their damn best.”

He gruffly says to you, “Would prefer that over this shit.” You let out a huff, “Yeah, that’s valid.”

“Tell me about your home.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow, “Are you asking or demanding? Also, why are you suddenly so curious about me?” He’s unsure for a moment but he answers, “You already know stuff about me. It’s only fair.” Your lips form a line as you press them against each other, and your eyes shift to look at the map instead of him, “I thought you didn’t want to hear about any of our histories?”

“I think we broke that rule the moment Ellie kept askin’ about my life.” Your eyes wrinkle as you smile, “There isn’t much to say, and also I don’t really like talking about myself.” He harrumphs, “Why? You’re a scientist and incredibly smart.” You bring your eyes back to him and give him a look of disbelief, “Did you just say something nice?” His face sours and grumpily murmurs, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I’m definitely telling Ellie later,” You smile teasingly at him, and he shakes his head, “So, what did you research, discover, or whatever?” And that question causes you to inhale through your nose deeply, “Um, in 2022 three scientists were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. Basically, they got awarded for their research and I took an interest in what they found. I had a theory with what they discovered with quantum teleportation.”

Joel didn’t really understand the science jargon that was spitting out of your mouth so fast like lightning, but he was intrigued, “What was your theory?” You nervously removed the dirt from your fingernails as you replied, “It’s a little complicated.” He retorts, “I’m beginning to think that’s your favorite line.” You bite the inner walls of your cheek and exhale loudly through your nose. Joel senses you didn’t want to discuss it any further and the quiet returns. Only the muffled rumbling of the engine and the sound of the tires rolling on the pavement. The only occasional noise from the two of you was asking for directions from Joel and you giving him a prompt reply.

The hours go by quickly and the sun is beginning to set, the orange glow illuminating both of your faces. The truck begins to pull up to the outskirts of Kansas City and you silently pray that this will all go smoothly.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

KANSAS CITY - SUNSET

Ellie awakens shortly after you pull up to the tunnel and Joel slowly presses on the brakes to put the truck to stop. Joel turns off the engine and turns to you both before opening the door, “Stay put.” He grabs the rifle from the back and proceeds to scout the area. Ellie kindly asks to switch with you again and for a moment you almost decline, your gut feeling telling you something is wrong, but couldn’t resist the kid and again move to the back while she moves upfront.

Joel sees the tunnel to Kansas City is blocked by a SaraLee bread truck and you watch him make his way back to the truck. He opens the back door and places the rifle beside you and goes back to the driver's seat. “Where are we?” Ellie asks and he quickly replies, “Kansas City.” Ellie gives him the map and you lean over Joel’s shoulder to analyze the map, “How far back do we have to go to get around this?” The young girl questions and you watch Joel trace his finger along the many red lines. He shakes his head and sighs in frustration before deciding, “Screw it.” And he turns the key to start the truck up again. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks and Joel answers as he performs a three-point turn, “We can jog right around this tunnel take the next ramp and we’re back on the road, minute tops.” You look out the window and see the rusting cars and burned corpses of people, shuddering, you try and remember a portion of the game for some clue of what was about to happen. You weren’t in Pittsburgh, but the way this was adapted would still have the very important elements of the original intellectual property. Fuck.

Joel enters the city and it’s eerily quiet, you take note of the empty streets and zero signs of runners. “Where the fuck is the highway?” Joel states frustrated and Ellie retorts, “I can’t tell from this. I’m all turned around.” You hear him get irritated, “Don’t look at the state map. Look at the inset.”

“I don’t know where we are in that either! It’s my second day in a fucking car, man. I mean, I think we’re heading north?” Joel continues to drive and you keenly observe your surroundings and see something unusual, you spot a pile of ash and remains of people as he drives by. “It’s gotta be right. What the fuck?” He says and you try and voice your concerns, “Joel, there’s um,” but he quickly fires back, “Not now Birdie.” And you deflate a little but keep trying, “Joel, something is–” But Ellie yells out, “Stop!” The tires shriek as he steps on the breaks, and Ellie stares at something wide-eyed and you do too, “Is that the QZ?” The gates were wide open without a single FEDRA officer in sight and completely vacated, your mouth hangs open, “Shit.” Ellie presses on, “Where the fuck is FEDRA?” As if on queue, you hear someone yell, “Hey!” All three of your heads whip to the sound of the man’s voice, he’s clutching his lower abdomen and yelling out, “Please help!”

“Put your seatbelt on,” Joel demands and you and Ellie follow, you clutch on the assist grips above the car, knowing this isn’t gonna go well. “Aren’t we gonna help him?” Ellie asks innocently, “No.” You and Joel answer quickly, he floors it and the man moves out of the way screaming, “Fuck! Go… go!”

Ellie looks above and shrieks, “Joel!” And a cylinder brick falls from the sky, crashing atop the windshield glass, cracks, and fractures are created and you hear the tires pop, and you assume they’ve laid down spikes. You gritted your teeth as Joel tries to get control of the truck, and another man tries to shoot you all down, “Fuck!” Having no other options, he crashes the truck into an old laundromat, and the impact causes you to jerk forward, hitting your head slightly in the seat in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Joel worriedly questions, “Yeah.” Ellie replies and he turns to see you slightly bleeding from your head, “Hummin’ bird, you okay?” And you quickly compose yourself, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” He then asks Ellie, “You’re not hurt? Nothing?” She shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

The sound of gunfire cause the three of you to flinch and duck down for cover, Joel yells and commands, “Belts off. Fast!” And what he says goes, immediately you grab your pack and rifle from the backseat, the loud popping sounds of gunfire continue as you get out, and duck behind the truck. You toss Joel his rifle and you pull out your gun, you hear the taunts on the other side, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you’ll make it through this! We promise!”

Joel pulls off his safety and makes sure his rifle is loaded, he spots a hole in the walls of the laundromat and asks Ellie, “Hey, you see that hole? Can you squeeze through?” The gunfire doesn’t let up and she shakily nods, Joel realizes that time is running out before the enemy decides to push forward, he instructs Ellie while looking at her directly, “When I say go, you both crawl to that wall and you two squeeze through and you don’t come out until I say, okay?” You try and protest but the sound of another bullet swiftly breaks the class of the truck and all three of you flinch.

Your breathing quickens and you feel the adrenaline coursing through you, while Joel’s chest bounces up and down as he pants, “And they’re not gonna hit you.” But Ellie isn’t listening, too scared and afraid of all the chaos ensuing, Joel growls, “Look at me!” She twists her head and her wide doe eyes look at him, frightened and unsure, he reassures her, “They’re not gonna hit you. You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet.” Ellie nods reluctantly, “Mhm.” A pause during the gunfire, and you realize they’re reloading. “Okay.” He says and Ellie parrots to him, “Okay.” Joel takes that as his signal and yells to you both, “Go!” Ellie stays low and crawls through the wall, safe and secure for now. You however help Joel and shoot at the enemies. He yells your name, “What the fuck are you doing? I can handle this now go!” You shake your head and exclaim, “No! I can help you.”

He pulls you down, both of you crouching on the ground and cups one hand to hold your face, “Right now that kid is scared shitless and shouldn’t be alone.” You try again to object, but he stops you, “No, listen to me. Go through that hole and be with Ellie, she needs you.” You feel your eyes water and give him a sincere look, your voice breathy as you reply, “We both do.” His mouth parts and his eyes dart to your soft lips for just a second, so fast you almost missed it if your faces weren’t so close to each other, and at that moment your heartbeats were synchronized, and both of your breathing unsteady. Warmth fills you both and causes both of your eyes to dilate, similar to an eclipse.

Another gunshot rings out and it hits the cement on the ground, causing you to jump, Joel wipes away some of the dust on your cheek and intently says to you, “I’ve got this. I promise, now go.”

You blink back your tears and whisper, “Give 'em hell.” He stands up again to cover you while you crawl into the hole, to be with Ellie. Both of you have your back against the wall, and you try and steady your racing heartbeat.

“What about Joel?” She asks you, full of worry and concern. Instead of answering, you hug her close to you, and she buries her face on your stomach, as you try and shield her away from the noise and gunfire. Then there is a sudden silence, and you and Ellie take a peek from the hole in the wall, the sound of footsteps stepping over broke glass fills the space and you have your gun ready in one hand just in case and shield Ellie with your body.

He steps a bit closer to your hiding place and instantly there was a gunshot, you and Ellie turn away as you also held back a scream. Stillness fills the room and you try your best to listen for Joel to tell you to come out, only hearing him try and unjam his rifle. Then, the sudden slam of a door opening, and another loud pop could be heard. You hear grunts, groans, and yelling from the intruder and Joel, and Ellie urgently whispers, “We need to help him!”

You nod, and Ellie swiftly sidesteps you and climbs out of the hiding space and you go after her. You and her quietly step out and to your surprise, she’s holding her gun out, aiming directly at the unidentified man’s head, before you could even utter a word or try and stop her, she shoots him in the spine. Joel rolls over to the side coughing and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath. You gently approach Joel as he side-eyes Ellie but continues to cough, you begin first aid, loosen any tight clothing, remove the top button of his outer shirt and place your hand on his back to try and feel his lungs, and hear Ellie step a little closer to the man, her gun still aimed at him.

The man begins to plead, “No, no, no! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over, we’re not fighting anymore.” Ellie doesn’t say anything and still has the gun pointed at him, “I’m gonna go home. I’ll tell everyone you’re good.” His face scrunches up and he begins to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work. My mom isn’t far if you can get me to her.”

Joel’s breathing returns to normal and you whisper, “You good?” And he only nods, angry and upset that he got caught off guard so easily. You help him up and hear the man still begging for his life, “We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan. What’s your name?” He continues to sob.

Joel looks at Ellie angrily, and she sniffs. He doesn’t say anything but holds out his hand and she hands him her gun which he places in his back pocket. Joel pulls out his revolver, slowly turns around, and Bryan continues to beg, “Wait… wait.” He pulls out a knife and says, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.” You stand next to Ellie and watch Joel lean down and pick up the knife. His eyes are dark with rage as he looks at you and Ellie, his voice deep and dominant that fills a warmth in your belly, “Get back behind the wall.”

Bryan instantly sobs, “No, no, no. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You slowly grab Ellie to gently coax her away, and she follows, Bryan screams for his life as you step back inside the hole. Ellie hugs your middle as she lets a single tear roll down her cheek, and you hug her right back, covering her ears from his yelling and pleading. You hear the slashing of a knife and the sound of blood splattering.

You try and calm Ellie and stroke her hair as you murmur reassuringly, “We’ll be just fine.” It was quiet for a second before you hear Joel’s booming voice calling you and Ellie, “I gotta get in there, I can’t fit through.” You wipe away her tears and gently pat her cheek, “We got this, yeah?” Ellie nods, “Mhm.”

You and her take a look around the room and Ellie yells out, “There’s some stuff against the door.” Joel is quick to reply, “Can you both move it?” You and Ellie nod at each other and work together to pull the table aside while Joel uses his arm to push the door open. He manages to get in and slams the door shut, “Let’s go. Fast.” He states and all three of you push the table back in its place. Joel looks at the both of you with concern, but Ellie quickly gets her bag and says, “I’m okay. I’m good.” You say nothing and also reach for your bag, quickly grabbing a bandaid from your first aid kit and then throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie approaches Joel and opens her pack, “I got some food in here still, and I got your light still.” He grabs it from her while you are on the side quietly and swiftly, placing a bandaid on your head, no time to disinfect it yet.

“What now?” Ellie asks, trying to be brave, and Joel observes her for a moment before saying, “We go up.” And she throws her back over her shoulders, “To get a better look?” You follow them both to a door and Joel responds, “Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.” He pushes the door open and clicks on the flashlight to check if it's safe, the only sound you could hear was the dripping of water from a leaky pipe, he turns to you both and says, “Stay close.” Ellie nods, “Got it.” Joel moves forward and Ellie and you follow him to a narrow alleyway. He has his revolver in one hand and you also have your gun out.

You three duck behind a rusted car, and you hear and spot multiple vehicles driving by. They were all armed, carrying various weapons and knives. Joel signals you two to wait and walks across to open a black door, he flicks on the flashlight and with one look, signals both of you to run across the street and into the next building.

You take cover and hide in a neglected bar, with newspapers covering the large windows. Joel peeks through the uncovered patches and watches the hunters pass by, searching different buildings. “They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies. So who are they?” Ellie asks and Joel plainly states, “People.” You and Ellie are also looking through the small patches, she quietly asks, “Are we okay in here?”

“For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checking apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.” Joel says and walks away to stand away from the windows. And you decide to sit, choosing the floor by the door of the old bar, and tend to the wound on your head. Ellie is still looking through the small patches of glass, “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away.” Joel’s voice is rough as he replies, “Yeah, saw it.”

“So that’s the one?” Ellie questions him, and he immediately answers, “As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.” Joel slowly sits down on the cushion and eyes you as you busy yourself disinfecting and cleaning up the blood on your head. Ellie sits down next to you, her knees close to her chest, and by now you’re done cleaning your wound and placing a new bandage on your head. Joel has his hand on his head, his face was expressionless and exhausted. Ellie asks you and him the same question, “Are you okay?” You nod and Joel replies with, “I’m all right.” He struggles with the debrief but he gets the question out to Ellie, “Are you all right?” And she simply replies with, “Yeah.”

You watch Joel struggle to find the words to express his emotions and feelings, his reserved nature is slowly crumbling, brick by brick. He shakes his head, “Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy coming, and… You shouldn’t have to… You know.” Ellie brings her eyes to look at him, “Well, you’re glad I did, right?” She said. His voice falters, “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to… It’s not like you killed him. But… shooting or… I know what it’s like the first time that you hurt someone like that.” The young girl says nothing and simply stares at him in silence. He tries again, “If you… I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah, you really aren’t.” Ellie says, and if it wasn’t so somber, if you were safely at home watching this, you would have laughed. You wonder if you should say something, but eventually figured that you needed to let them both bond and understand each other, it’s important to their story. While you believed your presence here was an accident. You push aside your feelings and stress to let them talk it out.

“I mean it was my fault. You shouldn’t have had to… and I’m sorry.” Joel sighs and looks away at Ellie, and begins to cry silently with her face turning red, you let her lean her head on your shoulder and it’s quiet. She goes to speak but her throat closes up, “It wasn’t my first time.” Joel looks at her after that to see her pure raw honesty.

Joel plays the idea in his head for a moment before coming to a decision, he reaches into his back pocket for the handgun he took from Ellie earlier, unloads the magazine, and removes the shell of the previous bullet from the chamber. The girl's head lifts from your shoulder as Joel kneels down on one knee in front of her, handing her the gun back, “Show me your grip.” Ellie does as she’s told and you watch Joel teach her the proper way to hold a firearm, “Finger off the trigger.” She holds it with one hand and Joel is unimpressed, “Now, who taught you that?” She mumbles in reply, “FEDRA school.” He nods his head, “Figures.”

Joel teaches her how to hold the gun with two hands, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand, squeezes down on the right. You got it?” She nods, her thumbs interlocked, which makes it harder to drop the gun when it recoils or if someone were to try and grab it. Joel holds both of her tiny hands in his calloused rough ones, “There you go. Look it.” He shakes it and the gun doesn’t budge, completely steady. She giggles as he tries again and you smile, Joel then says, “Okay?” While Ellie nods, seemingly happy, he gestures to her to give him the gun and he loads the magazine back in the gun and then hands it back to her.

Ellie takes it and as she is about to place it in her back pocket, Joel stops her, “Nuh-uh. You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.” He groans a little as he stands up again and you give Ellie a high-five and she laughs again. Joel walks to your side and this time it’s your turn, he kneels in front of you and you’re wide-eyed. He gently brushes away some of your hair and checks on your wound, you feel his fingertips graze along the plaster of your band-aid. Lightly, you touch his wrist and say, “I’m fine. Promise.”

None of you move for a bit, but then he slowly pulls away and stands to remove the wooden planks boarded up on the door, you also get up to help him. He holds on to the door handle and sighs, “We’ll get through this.” Ellie blinks once and then nods, “I know.” A beat passes and he pulls open the door, you and Ellie following him out into the setting sun of the city.

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The midnight blue covers the sky, the stars shine above you, and see the moon glimmer. You three find the side of the building but find the service door to be locked. You look above and point out a vent, Joel nods and turns to Ellie. Taking notice that Joel is this close to passing out on the ground after all the events that have happened, staying up all night to protect the both of you, driving for almost thirteen hours to get to Kansas City, and shooting a bunch of hunters. You offer to boost Ellie up to reach the vent, “Here, put your foot on my hand and then… One, two…”

“Oh shit.” She curses and you reassure her, “It’s okay, I got you.” And she manages to push open the vent and climb inside, “Okay I’m in.” And Joel decides to give out instructions, “Take a look around first. Ellie.” But she doesn’t reply, he harshly whispers, “Goddamn it.” And you say to Joel, “Just give her a second.” And a moment later, Ellie swings the door wide open, “Where would you be without me, huh?” Joel frowns, “By now, Wyoming.” You smack his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing. He glances at you and you stare back, he then walks forward into the building as Ellie takes it in stride. “Oh, yeah. Walked into that one.” The door slams closed behind you three and you take out your own flashlight to click it open.

All three of your footsteps echo around the building, while lights from your flashlights moved about the space. A minute later you see the door to a staircase that leads to the rooftop, you all walk over to it and Joel says, “All right, we’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.” He pushes the door open, and it squeaks as he does, shining the light in one hand and his revolver in the other, checking the dark area to make sure there’s no threat.

He walks straight while you and Ellie trail along, “We’re going up forty-two flights?” She groans, and Joel adds, “Forty-five.” The door behind you closes and you shine your flashlight to the ceiling, looking at the seemingly never-ending staircase. “But no. Not all the way.” He says, and Ellie asks, “How far?” Joel takes a breath, “As far as I can make it.” You and Ellie giggle at him and follow right behind the grump, footsteps sounding on the concrete steps of the building as you make your way up each floor.

After twenty flights of stairs, Joel is gripping the hand railing, slightly winded already, you are trying to manage your breathing with all the cardio, while Ellie is only lightly panting, she takes an opportunity to ask a question, “Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt? How did you know it was an ambush?” Joel stops before the next landing and catches his breath, “I’ve been on both sides. It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” She asked, and he nods, “And the people we were with. My brother too.” He looks up to check how many more to go, while Ellie can’t help herself, “Did you kill innocent people?” He turns to look at her with an unreadable expression, but doesn’t answer her question, “Come on.” But already you both already knew the answer, and still followed him anyways.

It’s a few minutes later and Joel pushes the fire exit door open and holds it out for you and Ellie to walk through. “Holy shit.” Ellie curses and Joel leans on the wall, “Yeah.” And slides down the wall completely exhausted. You are soaked with sweat and trying to catch your breath, using one hand to lean on the door as it closes by itself. “Thirty-three floors. That’s good.” The young girl comments, and you hear Joel wheeze, “It’s gonna have to be.”

Ellie makes her way over to him and kicks his boot, “Come on.” And holds out her small hand, Joel groans, “Give me a minute.” But Ellie doesn’t agree, “Get up, you lazy ass.” That does it, he grips his hand with hers and helps him up, while you finally got enough oxygen back into your system. Joel grits his teeth, “Lazy ass. Fifty-six years old, you little shit.” Ellie giggles and you smile wide and continue to trail after him.

Joel grabs a fire extinguisher to break through the glass of one of the office doors, the sharp sound of glass shattering rings throughout the room, and Joel reaches in to shake the handle open.

You and Ellie prepare to sleep, and you realize that there aren’t enough cushions for the three of you. Joel scatters glass on the ground as Ellie sits on her makeshift bed, and calls out his name as you sit cross-legged on the carpet, silently contemplating sleeping on the floor. He doesn’t hear Ellie the second time, too busy dumping out the glass.

But the third time she yells out his name he finally turned, “What?” He grudgingly says, and she asks him pointedly, “What are you doing?” And replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t want someone sneaking up on us while we’re sleeping.”

He puts the bucket down and Ellie realizes what he meant, “Oh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch…” He walks over to the couch cushions on the floor and Ellie questions him, “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?” Joel takes offense to her asking him that, “Of course, I’ll hear it. That’s the damn point.” Ellie leans back, “Okay. Well, good night.” And he gives a small, “Yeah, goodnight.”

You prepare to sleep on top of your backpack and Joel says your name, “What are you doing?” You turn your head to him and swallow, “Um, there’s not enough cushions. It’s okay though, I’ve slept on the floor before.” His eyebrows furrow and he huffs, “You sleep on mine then.” You shake your head, “Joel, you stayed up late, floored it all the way to Kansas City, fought three hunters, and then walked up thirty-three flights of stairs. You’re literally fifty-six and wheezing. You’re exhausted, so it’s okay, you can have it.”

Joel places his hands on his hips as he stares down at your figure, “That isn’t right though, you’re equally as tired and you got injured earlier. So take the damn bed.” He argues, this was slowly going to become a full-on debate that could have lasted till the morning, but Ellie butts in, “Why don’t you guys just share?” Immediately, your eyes go wide, and feel your face grow warm. You begin to stutter as you try and explain to her why that would be inappropriate, “Um, Ellie… I don’t think that’s—”

“Fine.” You hear him say and your head quickly turns to look at Joel, almost giving you a whiplash as you did. You blink wildly at him and shakily say, “You don’t need to–” He gives you no chance to finish your sentence, “I said fine. Do you want to share or not?” Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell is happening? He didn’t just offer that, did he? Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, not knowing how to act or find the right words for this. You take a deep inhale and try not to stumble over your words as you stared into his dark chocolate-brown eyes, “Are you… sure?”

He nods and gestures to you to lay down, you pinch your lips and swallow away your nerves and climb atop the cushions, using your own jacket as a pillow. Joel quietly does the same and faces the opposite of you. You bring your hands to your mouth, they’re slightly trembling as you try and calm your racing heart. Ellie is looking at you with a smirk, that cheeky little shit, she’s playing matchmaker. You mouth out the words, “Fuck you.” Which causes her to grin wider, happy with what she’s accomplished.

“Hey.” Joel's voice is deep and low from behind you, and you raise your eyebrows at Ellie, she replies, “Yeah?” He proceeds to ask, “When we were talking about hurtin’ people, what did you mean it wasn’t your first time?” You give Ellie a sad smile knowingly, the places may have changed, but at its core, the story stayed the same. She changes her position to lay flat on her back and stares at the ceiling, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He doesn’t push her and settles, “All right.” After a second he rolls over to his left and lifts his head up, to look at Ellie, you are now inches apart from him brushing his hand on your waist, he tells the kid, “You don’t have to. I’m just saying… it isn’t fair, your age having to deal with all of this.”

Ellie looks to the both of you, “So it gets easier when you get older?” You snort, “God, no.” And Joel shakes his head, “No. Not really. But still.” Ellie doesn’t say anything back to him for a bit, and he sighs, you feel his breath along the back of your neck, causing your spine to shiver at the sensation. “The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not, is because Miss Birdie and I have noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it ‘cause you were shot there?”

“Probably more from shootin’. So if you wanna keep your hearing, you stick to that knife.” He says and lays back down again, rolling back over to his right side and closing his eyes, Ellie says both of your names and you look at her, waiting, “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” He glances over his shoulder, “What?” And Ellie continues, “Yeah. It runs in your jeans.”

You didn’t know if your humor was broken, or if you were traumatized, or just exhausted, but you giggled with her and hear Joel whisper, “Jesus.”

He shakes his head, and you and Ellie continue to giggle, “That is so goddamn stupid.” But Ellie points out, “You laughed, motherfucker.” You hear the smile in his voice, “I didn’t laugh.” The kid throws back at him, “Yes, you did.” And you agree with her, “Yeah, you most certainly did, cowboy.”

He mumbles, “Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” and you loudly agree, “Yep, you are and so am I.”

And then his invisible walls came down and allowed himself to be vulnerable, to laugh at Ellie’s stupid joke. Finally, letting his baggage down, if he was being honest, he was so tired of being afraid, and this feeling of weightlessness felt like euphoria. Your cheeks rise to meet your eyes and lines appear as you smile, listening to both of their laughter. Though the storms will push and pull, you three are slowly beginning to form a home. The years, while they were here, haven’t been so kind, but the melody of laughter reminds you to keep your heart open wide. Slowly finding the strength and the nerve it takes to keep going because you know what lies beneath is the greatest thing you have. To trust that there will be light always waiting behind even in the darkest of nights. Somehow you will all be okay.

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – A FEW HOURS INTO THE NIGHT

You feel something heavy and warm draped over your waist, and your head resting on something firm beneath your head. You hear Ellie yell out both of your names in urgency and blink your eyes open to find yourself wrapped up in arms, with your head on his chest. You take a deep inhale, turn your head slightly, and tap Joel awake, his eyes open, alert and confused, to see Ellie kneeling on the cushions with her hands up and Henry pointing a gun at her head. Shit.

And you both turn to look in front of you, a little boy, Sam, with orange paint on his face resembling a superhero mask, pointing a gun at you both, he brings his pointer finger to his lips, indicating for you to be quiet. Joel tries to shield you from the boy, covering your figure with his large frame, gripping your waist so tight, and breathing through his nose heavily. You feel a little paralyzed, as you can’t help but watch the train wreck about to happen right in front of you.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

This was probably one of the most difficult chapters to write because of all the technicalities and this episode was definitely more centered around Ellie and Joel’s relationship so I didn’t want the reader to completely overshadow that HHEHEHEHE ONE BED TROPE The moment I watched that episode, I immediately thought, I’m writing a one-bed trope (idk if i got it right tho lol I tried to make it realistic??) I had to cut a huge ass important memory from the reader but decided again it's TOO SOON also it wouldn’t add anything to the plot so I’ll add that in later My bad for taking too long to finish this chapter, it was the most intimidating episode for me to write, the loss of innocence is also the main theme of this part of the show, and my experiences with losing innocence are WAY DIFFERENT so it proved it harder to write about You can see Joel slowly giving in and opening up to both you and Ellie Tbh, to me, this is one of the more mediocre chapters I’ve written thus far but I can’t seem to edit it anymore T^T Ellie absolutely adores you and 100% looks up to you hehe (Also she definitely wants you to get with her father figure) cAN SOMEONE UPDATE ME IF THEY WERE AT A TRUCK STOP OR GAS STATION BCS I’ve read sO MANY DAMN ARTICLES trying to figure out what it was and I just settled for a truck stop T^T Thank you, guys, so much for all your kind questions, comments, and feedback aHHH IT TRULY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME Lastly, this is the last call for the taglist before I close it! OKAY BYE OFF TO EPISODE 5 I GO WRITE HNGGGG - Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe

Edit: Sorry for the notif twice! The taglist completely bonked itself :,)

#uneven odds joel miller #unevenoddstaglist #uneven odds #unevenodds #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x modern reader #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x reader tlou #tlou rewrite #tlou remake #tlou series #joel miller x reader masterlist #joel miller x reader series masterlist #ethereal writes

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

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Operation Apollo | 1.3 | Jake Seresin x Reader AU

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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, smut, unprotected pinv

…

“Okay, turn.” Jake points. “Turn. Turn. You have to turn the wheel!”

You frown, “I am turning it! The steering on this is thing is garbage!”

Jake grabs the wheel, “So brake!”

You slam your foot on the break, the truck jolts and the engine stalls. Jake hits the seat behind him and turns his head to look at you. You can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or yell at you.

“Who the fuck gave you a license?” He breathes out, eyes wide.

It’s hot, it’s the middle of a July afternoon in the middle of Texas, the air conditioning on this truck hasn’t worked since you were in diapers and you’ve been at this for an hour.

You frown at him, “I told you I’ve never driven a stick-shift before.”

“I know, I just wasn’t expecting your steering to be the problem,” He mumbles, running his fingers through his hair. He sits back and lets out a heavy breath, “Alright. Let’s try that again.”

“I think you should drive.” You sigh, adjusting the seat belt uncomfortably from where it had pressed into your chest after stalling.

“No, no - you almost had it.” Jake nods for you to continue, he rolls down his window and lets out a breath. He takes a moment to prepare himself.

You whine in complaint and turn the keys. The engine splutters. You turn your head and look at him, eyes wide. Jake doesn’t seem surprised by the mishap. He isn’t, this happens all the time - he’s already pretty sure he knows what the problem is.

He groans, pulling open the door on his side and stepping out.

“It’s not my fault, I didn’t break it!” You call out to him. Jake almost scoffs, shaking his head as he walks around to the front of the truck. He lifts the hood. It’s exactly what he thought it would be. He gets back into the truck and shuts the door.

“Engine overheated.” He shrugs.

“So, what do we do?” You frown. Maybe your naivety is showing, but you’ve never had to deal with car troubles by yourself before. You’ve never been in a rust bucket like this before.

“We wait.” Jake answers you calmly.

“For how long?” Your brows furrow, growing urgent.

Jake shrugs again, calm, “Thirty minutes or so.”

You whine in frustration, looking around you at the empty surroundings. You had warned him that this was a bad idea. Allen never could’ve talked you into this - Manny either. You sigh, “We could walk back to the house and come back later?”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Jake agrees, turning his head towards you. His lips quirk up into a calm smirk. “Or, we could stay here.”

“Why would we stay here?” You frown, scrunching up your face as you look around you. You’re in the middle of an empty field, about a twenty minute walk from the house, pointed towards a stream at the bottom of the field.

That’s what Jake had been trying to get you to steer clear of.

You turn back to look at him, confused by his silence. Jake raises his eyebrows slightly as he waits for you to catch on. He sits back against the bench, parting his knees further, his arm stretched along the back of the seat.

“Oh.”

Jake jerks his head for you to come over. You unbuckle your seatbelt and push yourself onto your knees. Jake smiles as he guides you over, pulling you to straddle his waist.

His lips are on you in an instant. His hands on your hips, against your back, in your hair. Your fingers work open the buttons on his shirt as his tongue caresses yours.

Jake knows what he’s doing. He’s a good kisser, his mouth moves against yours like he knows how you’re going to react before you do. You’re reminded of his experience. Of the women that came before, of the woman he loved.

Jake’s hands skim under your dress, pushing the fabric up around your hips.

Fighting to stay right there in the moment with him, you grab at the sides of your underwear and lift your hips to pull them down.

Jake stops you.

He’s reminded briefly of the girl from his senior year that accidentally left her underwear in the passenger side footwell. The colossal shitstorm that came after her boyfriend found them when Jake was giving him a ride home from school the next day.

As far as Jake’s concerned, there’s a science to hooking up out in the open like this - and he’s an expert.

“It’s like you’ve never done this before.” Jake taunts, knowing that you haven’t. You open your mouth to argue, words catching in your throat as you’re met with intoxicating green eyes.

His eyes lock onto yours as he trails his fingers along the outside of your underwear, rubbing slow, firm circles over your clit through the fabric.

You hold onto his shoulder, lips parted, watching his face. You sit perfectly still for him, not squirming or asking for more just yet. Jake lifts his other hand and swipes his thumb tenderly over your cheek, then lifts your chin.

“That feel good?” Jake murmurs. His voice gets a little deeper when he’s talking softly to you like this, and being here around his family, his accent slips through a little more. If he wasn’t between them, you would press your thighs together. Jake feels your thighs hug his.

You nod softly at him.

He slides his hand down from your chin, fingers cupping your throat, moving down until they curl around your hip.

“Am I talking to myself?” Jake’s fingers still between your legs. Your brows knot slightly closer together, you frown slightly at him.

“No.” You whine, fingers pressing into the muscle of his shoulder. “Feels good.”

“There we go,” Jake hums, circling his fingers again, his touch light enough to make you press harder against him. You reach between the two of you and cup him through his shorts, leaning forwards to kiss him. Jake leans his head back, just out of reach, “You want it, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him, scowling just slightly, “I’m not going to beg.”

“No?” Jake teases, raising an eyebrow at you. You stare back at him. Your poker face is good, but he knows you’re considering it. His lips quirk, impressed. “I’m not gonna make you beg, honey.”

Your hands rest against his shoulders, feeling softly at the muscle as his own squeeze softly at your ass under your dress. Jake kisses you softly, your lips and then your jaw, nudging your chin back with the bridge of his nose so that he can kiss your neck.

This isn’t the first time that Jake has had sex in this truck, you know that. It plays on your mind that he might’ve been here with her. Your brows furrow slightly.

Jake rolls his hips slightly, grinding himself against you as he peppers open-mouthed kisses to your neck. He curls one hand into your roots and tugs softly, making you moan. His other hand squeezes at your hip.

Jake lifts his hips and pops open the button to his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down to his knees. You work with him, pushing his button up off of his shoulders and his t-shirt up his chest.

It’s a rush, he’s out of his shirt and his hands are all over you.

One of his hands slides from your ass, moving between your bodies, lining himself up with your core. He groans softly, lips on your throat as you rock yourself against the head of his cock. His eyes meet yours as you rock yourself against his tip.

You slowly sink down on him, taking in his tip. A soft squeak slips your lips. Jake tugs softly at your hair once more, turning your head and kissing your mouth.

He lifts his hips just slightly, pressing himself deeper into you. You mewl quietly against his mouth, fingers pressing into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you.” Jake murmurs. He kisses your cheekbone, then your temple. He grabs your hips with both hands, holding you still. You push against his hold, taking a deep breath as you press down until he’s buried in you completely. “God damn.”

His hands grip hard at your ass, pulling you towards him as he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers. He growls lowly, shifting his hips, changing the angle. You grab onto his bare shoulders, lowering your head and kissing his neck tenderly as you lift your hips and lower yourself onto him.

Jake lets you set the pace, leaning his head back, eyes closing. You build up slowly until he’s leaving fingermarks in your skin, rocking his hips up against you. Your desperate moans fill the air, mixed with each of his soft grunts.

Jake sits up, lips parted as he watches you. His brows knot together, he looks down between your bodies and groans softly. He smacks your ass, half-playfully, leaning forwards and attaching his mouth to your skin like he’s desperate to get a taste of you.

He kisses the sweat off of your skin, grinding himself up to meet you each time you come down on him. You cry out, then gasp in. Jake takes his lip between his teeth, his mouth quirking up at the sides.

His hands grab at your hips, squeezing firmly. He interrupts your rhythm, making you whine. You gasp, digging your fingers into his bicep as he bucks his hips upwards.

He’s all that you can focus on, guiding you as you bounce on his cock, his eyes on your face as you ride him.

“Shit, that’s it,” Jake nods his head, watching as your lips part and your head drops back. “Good girl, honey. Just like that.”

He grabs a handful of your hair and tugs softly, pressing his mouth to your throat as his other arm tucks around your waist and keeps you steady as he pounds into you. His soft groans in your ear as he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

Jake’s thumb strokes at your throat as he sits forwards, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips, breathing hard as he moves back to observe you again.

He kisses you tenderly, a surprisingly delicate motion, gripping your hips so tightly it feels like he might crush them. Jake groans against your throat as he comes undone, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him and driving himself as deep as he can go.

He holds you there for just a moment, leaving lazy kisses against the curve of your neck, then lets out a deep breath. Jake’s arm tightens around you, he kisses your temple tenderly.

“Ready to finish your lesson, sweetheart?” He asks, lifting his free hand and tipping your chin up so that you’re looking at him. You shove playfully at his chest, whining as you lift off of him and fix your underwear. He pulls his jeans back up his legs and slips his t-shirt over his head.

“Alright, alright - I’ll drive.” Jake relents as you swing your leg off of his hips, scooting into the passenger side. He turns his attention towards you, resting his hand on your knee.

You scoot across the bench and rest against his side. Jake turns his head, kissing the top of your hair. He drives back to the house and parks the truck back by the old shed.

You walk back into the house together. Manny’s preoccupied with a work call, too busy arguing with Allen to notice the way you rush for the shower. Jake heads for the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge.

Michelle squints at her younger brother, “Jacob Michael… is that a hickey?”

Jake scoffs, “No? - What?” He leans forwards and checks his reflection in the chrome over the sink. There is absolutely a soft reddish mark on the left hand side of his neck. He shrugs, “Probably a bug bite.”

“Big bug.” Michelle replies, shaking her head as she looks back down at her work laptop. Jake smiles, then shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

You sit across from him at the dinner table. Michelle looks knowingly between the two of you.

“Your dad wants to talk to you tomorrow about heading up to D.C. again.” Manny explains, fiddling with his fork. Jake frowns.

“Before she even goes home?” He asks.

“There’s a couple events he wants her at - makes sense with all the extra security up there, the house is still a threat - eh, I’ll let him explain it.” Manny explains. They discuss your plans like you aren’t sitting there with them. You ignore them either way.

You stare at Jake, not listening to a word he says. As it grows later, you find yourself thinking about the box under his bed more and more. In fact, you can’t think about anything else.

Jake lays awake in his bed, waiting for you to show up and creep through his door like you have for the past couple of nights. He tosses and turns, trying to stay awake long enough for you to show up.

He turns onto his side and stares at the alarm clock until it passes one in the morning. He sighs, throwing the covers back and standing up. You close your eyes as you hear footsteps in the hall, turning onto your side and closing your eyes.

Jake steps into the room, closing the door behind him and slipping into bed beside you. He leans forwards and decides that you’re sleeping. Your heart races in your chest, worried that he’s onto you.

He settles down onto his back, closing his eyes. He listens to the soft sound of your breathing and matches it with his own. He tries to rationalise sneaking in here with you - not being able to spend a night on his own. You’re safer with him here.

“Jake?” You croak out quietly.

He lifts his head, brows furrowing, surprised. “You’re awake.”

You turn to face him and sit up. Jake stares at you. Even in the dark, he can see the sheepish look on your face and knows that you’ve done something bad. He frowns, sitting up to look at you properly.

“I found the box under your bed.”

…

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @the-mouse27 @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream

#jake seresin au #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #operation apollo

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briansastro10 · 1 year

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Day 5: Stargazing 9 days of Lancaster

On a campsite during their journey on Anima. Jaune was finding a place to continue his training. In the distance, he notices Ruby sitting alone in a fetal position near a large boulder. Concerned, He gained his himself, took a deep breath and walks over to her.

Jaune: *softly* Hey, Ruby. How are you feeling?

Ruby lifts her head, her silver eyes filled with a mix of sadness and exhaustion. She forces a weak smile.

Ruby: *tiredly* Hey, Jaune. I'm... I'm okay, I guess.

Jaune sits down beside her, his sword clattering against the ground as he does so.

Jaune: *concerned* You don't seem okay. Is everything alright?

Ruby's smile fades, and she looks down at her hands and continues to lean on Jaune's shoulder, her voice trembling as she opens up about her inner turmoil.

Ruby: *voice cracking* Jaune, I'm sorry. For everything, It's all my fault. I left Yang behind, injured and alone, and now we're out here, continuing our journey without her. Our last conversation... it was a fight, Jaune. I never got to apologize, and now I fear we might never get the chance.

Jaune tightens his grip on Ruby's hand, showing his support.

Jaune: *sincerely* Ruby, it's not your fault. We made a difficult decision, and it was for the greater good. Yang understands that. And I'm sure she wants us to find the answers we're searching for.

Ruby sniffles, trying to hold back her tears.

Ruby: *tearfully* if it wasn't for me, our group wouldn't have split up. I'll never get the chance to make things right? It's the same with Pyrrha... I blame myself for her death. If I had been stronger, if I had been there for her... maybe things would be different.

His own emotions swirling inside him. He wants to express his guilt over Pyrrha's death, but he knows that right now, Ruby needs his comfort more than anything.

Jaune: *softly* Ruby, I want you to look up at the sky for a moment.

Ruby looks at Jaune curiously, wiping away her tears, and follows his gaze upward at the starry night sky.

Ruby: *whispering* Why, Jaune? What do you see up there?

Jaune: *taking a deep breath* Whenever I feel lost or far away from any of you I'll look up at the sky. Because no matter where we are or what world we're in, we're all looking at the same sky. It connects us, Ruby. no matter how far apart we are, we're never really alone

Ruby's eyes widen as she takes in Jaune's words.

Jaune: Yang, Weiss and Blake. They all have their fight to go through, so does us. Knowing we are seeing the same sky and living under it. It's Like a promise, that one day, we’ll meet again

Ruby: *whispering* So... even if we're far away from home, we're still connected to our loved ones.

Jaune: *sincerely* Exactly, Ruby. And that includes Pyrrha. I know it's been hard for you, and it's been hard for me too. But I've come to believe that she's somewhere out there, watching over us, just like all the other stars in the sky.

Ruby's tears start to subside as she finds comfort in Jaune's words.

Ruby: *whispering* Thank you, Jaune. I needed to hear that. I miss Pyrrha so much, but knowing that she's still connected to us, it eases the pain a little.

Jaune: *smiling softly* I'm glad, Ruby. And remember, whenever you feel lost or homesick, just look up at the sky. We're all under the same stars, and we'll never be far away from each other.

----Years Later, Somewhere in Ever after---

The Rusted Knight, standing in his backyard, wearing his rusted armor. His face reflects a mix of emotions—sadness, calmness, and a hint of satisfaction. Sitting beside him is Crescent Rose, Ruby's weapon, cradled gently in his lap. He strokes its metal frame, a bittersweet smile on his lips. With a heavy sigh, Jaune carefully places Crescent Rose back into a box, treating it with great reverence. He secures the box and finds a safe place to store it, ensuring that the memories it holds are preserved.

Jaune returns back to his room, the starry night sky drawing his gaze once more. He takes a deep breath, savouring the tranquillity of the moment.

Jaune: *softly* No matter how many years pass; the night sky remains a constant reminder of our shared journey.

His eyes sparkle with a mixture of nostalgia, contentment and hope that they'll meet again. Jaune reflects on the challenges they faced together and the bonds they formed.

Jaune enters his room, a sense of peace washing over him. He switches off the remaining lights, embracing the tranquillity of the night. As he settles into his bed, he looks out of the window one final time, taking in the vastness of the starry sky.

Jaune: *whispering* No matter where we are, we still share the same sky. no matter how far apart we are, we're never really alone

With a final, wistful smile, Jaune closes his eyes, letting the serenity of the night lull him to sleep.

#rwby lancaster #rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #lancaster #jaune arc x ruby rose #jaune x ruby #9 days of lancaster #9daysoflancaster23

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strongelongitude · 2 years

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"Midnights" Lyrics I Absolutely Love

for the record, this is your fault @alltouwell

Lavender Haze

“I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me”

“I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say”

“The only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife”

“I find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history, but you aren’t even listening”

“I just need this love spiral. Get it off your chest, get it off my desk”

Maroon

“Laughing with my feet in your lap like you were my closest friend”

“The mark they saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips I used to call home”

“When the silence came we were shaking, blind and hazy. How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbing with you head in your hands, ain’t that the way shit always ends?”

“And I wake with your memory over me. That’s a real fucking legacy to leave”

Anti-Hero

“I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser. Midnights become my afternoons”

“When my depression works the graveyard shift, all of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room.”

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”

“I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.”

“Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism…”

“One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning (for the last time)”

Snow on the Beach

“Life is emotionally abusive and time can’t stop me quite like you did.”

“I’ve never seen someone lit from within, blurring out my periphery”

“I can’t even speak, afraid to jinx it. I don’t even dare to wish it”

You’re On Your Own Kid

“Summer went away, still the yearning stays”

“It’s okay we’re the best of friends, anyways”

“I didn’t choose this town, I dream of getting out. There’s just one that could make stay, all my days”

“From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I waited ages to see you there. I searched the party of better bodies just to learn that you never cared.”

“I picked the petals he loves me not”

“Something different bloomed, writing in my room. I play my songs in the parking lot”

“I searched the party of better bodies just to learn that my dreams aren’t rare.”

“I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this. I hosted parties and starved my body”

“My friends from home don’t know what to say”

“I looked around in a blood-soaked gown and I saw something they can’t take away.”

“Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned. Everything you lose is a step you take.”

“So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it, you’ve got no reason to be afraid”

“Yeah you can face this, you’re on your own kid, you always have been.”

Midnight Rain

“He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain.”

“I was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same”

“I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted, just what we wanted. And he never thinks of me except for when I’m on TV”

“I guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted. And I never think of him except on midnights like this”

Question…?

“Good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choices”

“Cause I don’t remember who I was before you painted all my nights, a color I’ve searched for since”

“Fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications. And I have to say, by the way, I just may like some explanations”

“Then what did you do? Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Did you wish you’d put up more of a fight when she said it was too much? Do you still wish you could touch her? It’s just a question.”

“Half-moon eyes, bad surprise, did you realize, out of time”

“Does it feel like everything’s just like second best after that meteor strike?”

Vigilante Shit

“Draw the cat eyes sharp enough to kill a man. You did some bad things but I’m the worst of them”

“They say looks can kill and I might try.”

“I don’t dress for women, I don’t dress for men, lately I’ve been dressing for revenge.”

“I don’t start shit but I can tell you how it ends. Don’t get sad, get even.”

“She needed cold, hard proof so I gave her some. She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?”

“Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife”

“While he was doing lines and crossing all of mine”

“And I don’t dress for villains, or for innocents, I’m on my vigilante shit”

Bejeweled

“Baby, love, I think I’ve been a little too kind. Didn’t notice you walking all over my piece of mind”

“Putting someone first only works when you’re in their top five”

“Best believe I’m still bejeweled, when I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt, don’t put me in the basement”

“Baby, boy, I think I’ve been too good of a girl. Did all the extra credit then got graded on a curve.”

“And I miss you, but I miss sparklin’”

“But some guy said my aura’s moonstone just cause he was high”

“What’s a girl gonna do, a diamond’s gotta shine.”

Labyrinth

“Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out”

“Uh-oh, I’m fallin’ in love. Oh no, I’m fallin’ in love again”

“I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it back around”

“Break up, break free, break through, break down. You would break your back to make me break a smile”

“You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that”

Karma

“You’re terrified to look down, cause if you do you’ll see the glare of everyone you burned just to get there”

“And I keep my side of the street clean. You wouldn’t know what I mean”

“Karma’s a relaxing thought, aren’t you envious that for you it’s not?”

“Karma is a cat, purring in my lap cause it loves me”

“Ask me why so many fade when I’m still here”

“Cause karma is the thunder, rattling your ground”

“Karma’s gonna track you down, step by step from town to town”

Sweet Nothing

“They say the end is comin’, everyone’s up to somethin’, I find myself running home to your sweet nothings”

“All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.”

“On the way home I write a poem. You say “what a mind.” This happens all the time”

“And the voices that implore, ‘you should be doing more,’ to you I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it”

Mastermind

“Once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned. You and I ended up in the same room, at the same time.”

“And the touch of a hand lit the fuse of a chain reaction of countermoves to assess the equation of you.”

“Checkmate, I couldn’t lose.”

“What if I told you none of it was accidental and the first night that you saw me nothing was gonna stop me?”

“I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line”

“Cause we were born to be the pawn in every lover’s game”

“If you fail to plan you plan to fail. Strategy sets the scene for the tale”

“I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since, to make them love me and make it seem effortless”

“And I swear I’m only cryptic and machiavellian cause I care.”

“I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face, you knew the entire time. You knew that I’m a mastermind. And now you’re mine.”

The Great War

“And maybe it’s the past talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did. So I justified it.”

“It turned into something bigger. Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I’d been betrayed.”

Bigger than the Whole Sky

“Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness”

“I’ve got a lot to pine about, I’ve got a lot to live without, I’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, should’ve been you”

“Cause it’s all over, it’s not meant to be, so I’ll say words I don’t believe”

Paris

“And all the outfits were terrible, 2003 unbearable. Did you see the photos? No I didn’t, but thanks though”

“I’m so in love that I might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling. No, I didn't see the news cause we were somewhere else.”

“Privacy sign on the door and on my page and on the whole world. Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours”

“Sip quiet by my side in the shade. And not the kind that’s thrown I mean the kind under where a tree has grown”

“I was taken by the view, like we were in Paris”

“I wanna brainwash you into loving me forever. I wanna transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever.”

“Confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.”

High Infidelity

“Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token. I didn't know you were keeping count. Rain soaking, blind hoping, you said I was freeloading. I didn't know you were keeping count”

“High infidelity, put on your records and regret me, I bent the truth too far tonight”

“Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?”

“Storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle”

“You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough”

“Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?”

Glitch

I was supposed to sweat you out. In search of glorious happenings of happenstance on someone else's playground

“I think there's been a glitch, five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch. And I'm not even sorry, nights are so starry, blood moonlit, It must be counterfeit”

“But it's been two-thousand one-hundred ninety days of our love blackout (Our love is blacking out) The system's breaking down (The system's breaking down)”

“A brief interruption, a slight malfunction, I’d go back to wanting dudes who give nothing”

Dear Reader

“Dear reader, if it feels like a trap you’re already in one”

“Desert all your past lives, and if you don’t recognize yourself that means you did it right”

“Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart”

“Dear reader, bend when you can, snap when you have to. Dear reader, you don’t have to answer just cause they asked you.”

“When you aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss”

“You wouldn’t take my word for it if you knew who was talking, if you knew where I was walking”

“And my friends found friends who care”

“No one sees when you lose when you’re playing solitaire”

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

“If you tasted poison you could’ve spit me out at the first chance”

“And if I was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? And if it was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands?”

“If you’d never looked my way I would’ve stayed on my knees. And I damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen”

“And now that I’m grown I’m scared of ghosts”

“And now that I know, I wish you’d left me wondering”

“God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be”

“If clarity’s in death then why won’t this die?”

“Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts, give me back my girlhood it was mine first”

#the bolded lyrics are my fave from each song #and yes yoyok got multiple bolded lyrics she earned it #Taylor swift #Taylor Swift lyrics #midnights ts #taylor swift midnights #guess my faves from the album challenge

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gallivantingheart · 2 years

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Me, a Princess? Shut Up!

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⏮️ chapter 11: anna ⏭️

who?: jihoon/woozi x (f)reader

word count: 1840

genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au

warnings: some course language

synopsis: Life’s pretty good for y/n. Easy, even. Until someone claiming to be her grandmother says she is the queen of a small island country - and y/n, a princess.

a/n: masterlist has been given its final chapter update! soon two years of this bloody thing will come to an end.

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

TAGLIST: @strykiss, @karrotkarrotkarrot, @3sriracha, @minkwans, @annakemi, @chaseyui, @noniesgirl, @gyubagebin

don’t hesitate to send an ask or dm to be added!

Mingyu’s pep talk adrenaline drains away the moment the lift doors close and the metal box begins to rise.

It’s all happened so fast these last few days. Mingyu had told you that two royal attendants had been to the apartment. Tried to make themselves take up as little room as possible while they briefed Jihoon on how to conduct himself during this scandal. You looked down at the heavy cream envelope holding the official invitation for the Amaide Gala or better known as your coming out event to polite society. So much no one ever asked for. You jump as the elevator stops and the doors slide open. Two music students stop their conversation to gawk at you and it takes everything not to just rudely barge through and make a run for it.

Polite etiquette though has you tipping your head in greeting and stepping smoothly around them, take a brisk walk to Jihoon’s usually booked studio.

Carefully you knock on the studio door - it’s an ugly grey-teal that is only seen in educational settings, as if it will somehow soothe. How damn wrong could these designers be? He opens it enough to peer around it in a rust red hoodie. Jihoon’s brows shoot up into his fringe.

“Oh. Hi Y/N.”

You smile weakly, tucking your hands behind you. “Hi Jihoon. How are you doing?”

“Good, thank you. Come in?”

He steps aside and you instantly bolt for your usual place on the edge of the sofa. The place is cleaner than last time. So he’s either cleaned or Vernon hasn’t been by lately. In a panic, you drop the invite back in your bag. Play it by ear.

He resumes his place at the soundboard, layers of audio cuts lined up on the screen. The music major doesn’t turn back though, in favour of staring at you, elbows on his knees.

“I, um, came to see how you were. I hope those advisors weren’t too ridiculous - I know they can be. I can’t believe they just barged in - I really didn’t want you involved in any of the publicity control at all. You’re sensible and keep to yourself. I trust you! Have you been okay? Left alone? Do you need any sort of security?” It all comes flooding out at once, leaving you breathless and a little flushed in the face.

He breathes out a laugh and grins. “No. No muscle men needed. I can handle it. I know you’ve always meant well. This isn’t your fault.”

You scowl. “It is-”

“No. It isn’t. This is all just a casualty of having this thrust on you.” Jihoon protests firmly, rolling forward on his office chair to rest a hand on your knee. Physical affection is so hard pressed from Jihoon - it sends a current rippling through you, warm and wanting under the skin. “It’s okay.”

“I - okay. I’m glad you haven’t been scared off by it all.” You laugh, a little forced.

He eases up on the intensity and drops his gaze, his grip loosening on your knee. You miss it somehow and it hasn’t even really left. “Takes a lot more than that to put me off you, Princess.”

You feel as if you’ve overstayed your welcome though - don’t want to take any more from him. So damn selfish. So you stand, biting back a wince as his hand falls away.

“Well, I was only popping in, so I’ll leave you to it. Mingyu’s cooking me seaweed soup tomorrow night, so I’ll see you then!”

He looks up, mouth ajar. "I - wait."

You turn in the doorway, waiting as asked. You shoulder your bag carefully, a pair of heels slotted inside next to your laptop and tombs of Amaide law you were still researching. Some designer your grandmother gave you and therefore hundreds of dollars and hundreds of years you don't trust yourself with. You trust yourself less when Jihoon looks like that though, something unsure sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yeah. Do you want to grab some coffee with me?" He says, back straightening.

Your eyes fly wide and you step back in, hovering hopefully in the ajar doorway. "Sure? When?"

He stands up and starts turning off dials and rushing to shut the piano. "Now, if you can? I was about to finish up soon anyway. Could you give me a minute to shut up and-"

You grin and shut the door, dropping your bag to the sofa. The dress isn’t going anywhere. You’re not scheduled until this afternoon, so they can see it against the lighting of the embassy. Yes, you know you’re making excuses. "I'll give you a hand, don't worry."

You’re in the same place as you were last time you grabbed coffee with someone - Soonyoung. But now, you were with someone far more nerve wracking yet exciting. His ears and nose were red from the cold and you’d teased him at the counter as soon as you’d noticed. But you weren’t shy or bumbling as before - it felt easier but not quite natural. Jihoon grumbled about the weather turning but didn’t take it badly.

“Hey, I actually wanted to ask you something.” You say, fiddling with the bracelet dangling on your wrist.

A family heirloom, the royal family’s crest as a charm. Both the chain and the charm were different metals, seeing as you preferred one over the other. It looked a little ugly like that but you didn’t care. Fitting for how this had all come about.

“Hmm?” He looks at you, brows raised - he looks a little elvish now.

“I uh, was wondering if you wanted to be one of my guests to the gala? I mean, Mingyu and ‘Hao are already invited, but…I, we’ll I wanted to ask you too. You don’t have to! And I know you’re super busy! But if you want to, it would be nice to see another friendly face.” You stutter, your shoulders up by your ears.

He chuckles and nods. “Of course I’ll come. Two weeks away, right?”

You hum but try not to dwell too much on it. You pull out the formal invitation and push it across the sticky table and around your cup of coffee - oatmilk is very in now, even Soonie drank it.

“This, uh, has all the details you’ll need for it - dress code, address, times, blah blah blah. But Mingyu and Minghao said they would be going as well, so tag along with them if you need to.” You babble.

Jihoon perks up gratefully and tucks it into his laptop bag so it lays flat.

“Thanks.”

You glance his fingertips with yours, feeling that warm zing settling into you as you both stand outside the café.

“Hey, I’ve got a dress fitting for this I have to get to, but like I said, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nods, nose getting bitten by the cold and his hands jammed in his hoodie. “Yeah, see you then. It was nice to see you.”

You smile. “You too.”

You turn and call for Jungwoo, biting your lip to stifle a giggle or anything that gives you away. You have to be careful that you don’t daydream your way to the car in case you stack it or bear your serious case of lovesick.

Jungwoo knows all though, smirking under his sunglasses - it’s overcast!

“Don’t let the queen see that. You have been doing very well the last few weeks.”

You turn to switch your shoes to heels, turning out one of the archive books next to you to multitask. Bit of light reading seeing as this is a fairly modern volume with no need for translation.

This gown is far more modern and designer than the last. But the train is dramatic and the only traditional aspect you currently have. At least it’s in a sensible colour - a white organza and lace over top. You were a little scared it would be lemon yellow, if your grandmother had a say. Probably claim some crap about how it would be paying homage to our agricultural backbone and legacy. Soonhee huffs at you as you fuss with the off the shoulder sleeves in draping organza ribbons.

“Leave it. We’re working on this so you don’t have to do that the whole night.” She snaps from her seat by the garden window.

“But don’t you want it adjusted to where I feel comfortable? We’ll never know if I don’t.” You retort from the raised base.

She huffs again and tips her nose up haughtily but says nothing.

Still, you have curiosities. “Grandmother, why does this design look so new? And not yellow? I’ve never seen so much tulle in all my life.”

“You are the vision of the modern future. Of the youth. It is fitting that you dress of the time. There will be enough tradition at the gala without bringing attire into it.”

She falls quiet and you hold your breath every time a pin comes near you. Pleats and darts are made, measurements noted around you like some mannequin. Boning to my waist is chalked on in blue. It sounds like the tulle is going to tie and drape like a weaving flat knot over the boning and corsetry.

You catch Soonhee’s eye in the mirror, glassy and warm. You frown. Where was all this emotion coming from? This bloody woman was a stone wall of tea at the best of times.

“Grandma?”

She clears her throat and sits to attention. Didn’t even falter at the name. “Apologies. It’s just… you look beautiful. Like a true princess. Nothing like that unrefined girl I met in fall. She would never have made it this far. Park genes run true in you after all.”

You can taste the bitter bile in the back of your throat, a chill setting in your heart. You turn your eyes back to the trio of mirrors in front of you. Is that what she saw? Where the outfits and the exasperation stemmed. Because she never liked you in the first place? It’s like she’s begging for you to pull out of all this! The room is too cold now and yet too hot. There isn’t enough air in the dressing room and it takes everything you’ve got not to savagely rip the couture fabric from your body. Etiquette runs deep now, so you turn back and step down from the platform.

“Right. I see. It is getting late, is it not? I have three more fittings for this and assessments to do.” You lie cooly.

She sobers and nods. “So we do. Plenty of progress has been made. You’re dismissed for today.” Soonhee stands and pauses in the doorway, stoic and elegant as always. “We will resume your archival studies tomorrow. There is much you must see before the gala.”

The moment she vanished to the hall, you sag in place and hiss to be freed from the dress. Freed from this fucking mess.

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eevee-eclair · 3 years

Note

rarepairs…. maybe fwhimmy angst with a happy ending about the aftermath of empires…… i haven’t stopped thinking about them

More fwhimmy!! Love these guys! Comin’ right up! To do what I had in mind, I completely threw out the canon endings for this, I hope it came out okay! (Their relationship is pre-established in this one)

Tws: mentions and implied dead fish, mentions of death, crying, screaming, self blame, running away, (let me know if I missed one!)

Through It All, I Still Have You (so don’t leave me)

Jimmy was crying. The other rulers watched as he blabbered something about an explosion and the Codfather head and Fwhip. They also caught the words ‘salmon’ and ‘cod’, but other than that it was just stutters.

“H-he’s dead!” he wailed.

Now that got their attention. Several people started talking at once, but it all went right over Jimmy’s head, and he just kept crying. Scott came over and patted his back.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he muttered. “I know how much he meant to you.”

Then, rusting came from his right. They all turned to see Gem leading Fwhip through the forest. The Count had seen better days, that’s for sure. His clothes were torn, his goggles were cracked, and he had a terrible limp and was using his sword as a substitute cane.

“Fwhip!” Jimmy and Sausage cried at the same time.

The cod beat the Mythlander to him, though, and practically tackled him to the ground. Jimmy kissed him all over his face, half laughing half sobbing.

“I thought you were dead!” Jimmy exclaimed.

Fwhip laughed. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, Jim.”

Sausage joined the pile, smiling wide as if he also hadn’t just been crying. “I knew Jimmy was lying! There’s no way you would’ve just been dead like that!”

Joey was the one to kill the good mood. “Yeah yeah, this is really sweet and all, but what about my kingdom?! It’s still gone!”

“Wait,” Scott said, drawing all the attention to himself. “If Joey’s empire is gone from the explosion… what about the rest of us…?”

There was a moment of silence before all hell broke loose. Scott excused himself and flew off before everyone else did the same. Then, it was just Jimmy, Fwhip, and Gem.

Fwhip pushed her away. “Go check on your kingdom,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? What if your get even more hurt?”

He smiled and pushed her again. “Jimmy’ll help me, don’t worry. Go make sure it’s all okay.”

“If you’re sure,” she sighed. Then, she spread her wings and flew off, heading to the Crystal Cliffs.

Jimmy was fidgeting nervously. “C-can we go check on my kingdom?” he asked quietly.

Fwhip nodded. “Of course! Lead the way, Jimmy!”

They marched through the forest, not flying only because Fwhip couldn’t. It took a minute, but the swamp soon came into view. But it felt wrong. As they got closer, Jimmy found out why.

All the water was gone. No puddles, no mud patches, no ocean. It was as dry as Pixandrea.

Fwhip’s jaw dropped as Jimmy clenched his to hold back tears. The smell of dead fish tainted the air and made his eyes water. All his smile puddles were empty, and the cod that once lived there were suffocated. The Great Wall of Cod had shattered and the fish were gone, along with the water.

“No.” His voice was so quiet, Fwhip almost didn’t hear it. His boyfriend rubbed his back, looking around the area with a haunted look.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

The cod fell to his knees, voice caught in his throat. He wanted to let him know it wasn’t his fault, that if anything it was his own stupid desires to blame, but he couldn’t even make a sound.

“It’s gone. It’s all gone…” His voice was shaky and choked once he found it. “Everything…”

Then, after a beat of silence, he doubled over and screamed. He screamed and screamed until his throat was raw and then screamed some more. He screamed as Fwhip held him, he screamed as Joel came flying in looking panicked, he screamed as was hauled into his house where Norman was quick to comfort him.

Fwhip held him through it all. He never let him go, wether he held his hand, kissed him, or just had his arms wrapped around him. Joel left after a while, muttering something about Lizzie and taking off, so it was just them and the cat.

There was a moment of mildly uncomfortable silence before Fwhip broke it. “I know you’ll tell me to never blame myself… but I will. Because it was my love for you that caused this. Seeing you so upset over the Codfather Head made me act on impulse and I didn’t think it through. Now everything you love and everyone else loves is gone, including whole kingdoms. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m sorry a thousand times over and then some. If you want to leave me… I’d understand.

A large smack echoed through the room. Fwhip rubbed the back of his head and looked at Jimmy, who was sitting there with tears in his eyes and a trembling lip. “Don’t you dare talk like that,” he rasped, voice still raw and scratchy. “I love you so much, and this was not your fault in the slightest. I’ll love you forever and I want you at my side always. If you leave me… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

The unspoken “too” hung heavy between them. Don’t leave me too, I love you too, and I blame me too, all went unspoken, but they were there. Fwhip felt his own eyes water as he launched himself at the cod.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he gasped, voice shaky with emotion. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jimmy hugged back. “I won’t. Not in a thousand years. I’ll love you to the bottom of the ocean and then back.”

They stayed together, locked in each others’ arms until the sun set. Norman eventually left, but they still didn’t move. They cried and whispered sweet nothing in attempt to comfort each other. The sun was gone, replaced by the moon, and then they finally pulled away from each other.

Only to connect again through their lips. Fwhip put his hands on Jimmy’s cheeks and kissed him with all the passion he could muster, the other returning the gesture. Being a cod hybrid, Jimmy could hold his breath for hours, but Fwhip could not. But they threw that to the wind, only carrying about the other right now. Fwhip felt like he was drowning in Jimmy’s love. He couldn’t breathe, but he loved it. Their lips were locked and so were their souls.

But they did have to eventually part, to both their dismays. Fwhip was left gasping for air when he pulled away, but he wasn’t going to complain. Jimmy just looked flushed and it made something in Fwhip’s chest flutter.

“Let’s run away together,” Jimmy blurted. But the words were out, so he kept going. “You and me. We’ll find a new place to live, build a new kingdom if it comes to that—maybe even join someone else’s? Years down the line, we’ll go looking for all our friends, but for now just run away with me.”

Fwhip looked int Jimmy’s eyes, counting every sparkle and twinkle in them. He found himself loving the idea, of just the two of them living together in the woods with nothing but a crop field and a cottage.

He nodded.

“Please.”

#eevee writes #fwhimmy #fwhip #jimmy solidarity #c!jimmy #c!fwhip #empires smp #this one was fun to write as well!#thanks for the prompt!#I got the title from Cody Fry’s song Underground if anyone was curious

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words-for-holland · 3 years

Text

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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anaiswriterr · 4 years

Text

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter four: gifted dagger -

•

You clutch hard onto an old bladed dagger, it digs into your palm and slices a long line against the soft skin. Droplets of blood pools onto the gravel below you, heaving you throw the weapon into a tree bark. You groan out in frustration when it doesn't latch onto the wood, "I can't do this!"

"Don't say that, it's your first day. Try again," Kirishima urges, bending down to grab the dagger off the ground, handing it back to you placing the blade down into your palm; you seethe in pain. Swallowing down the yelp that threatened to escape passed your lips, Kirishima notices your stained palms before snatching the dagger back from your grasp.

"We'll pick this back up later, don't want you getting an infection."

Perhaps he was right, the blade was only slightly rusted - it's been over an hour with the blade constantly digging into your skin; if you didn't cover it up soon then an infection was possible. You shrug, "An infection compared to getting eaten by a bear, or an ogre is nothing in my eyes; so don't worry about me. We can continue," You reach out to grab the dagger out from his hands, but he hides the blade into his holster. Nodding his head side to side, "No can do, my job is to make sure you are safe 24/7 and if that means making you go to the infirmary then so be it."

You arch a brow wiping away the sweat beads off your forehead from the hot dewy morning, "Is that a request?"

"Your Highness, will all due respect, it's an order."

"Fine, but I quite frankly would like to survive so if we could continue this on later-"

"Of course," he smiles, "Now, go fix your hand. I was told Bakugou would like to speak to you-"

"That will not be necessary since I will not be speaking to him." You pour a cup of water over your palm, attempting to clean off the dirt. After yesterday's events you have vowed to not utter a single word to him, he's clearly a hard head who never had anyone stand up to him. As his "wife" what better then to punish his actions then using the silent treatment towards the temperamental brat. Kirishima scratches the back of his head sheepishly, fiddling with his weapon. "Well you know Your Highness-"

"Y/N will do just fine. Please no formalities between us two."

"Right. Um well, you know. Bakugou is a hard kinda guy to work with, it was hard for even I to get to be as close as I am with him. He hates silence, he might ask for it. But radio silence might not be the best answer between the two of you.. considering you two are on thin ice right now."

You arch a brow in question, wiping the sheen layer of sweat off your brow bone. "What do I do then, Kirishima. How do I win over a beast who doesn't attempt at all?"

***

To say you utterly hated Katsuki Bakugou was an understatement.

For one night he managed to put on a mask that nearly caught you in a rope of curiosity for the man - maybe he was just misunderstood. Like hell, his mother had the same fighting and burning spirit one of a dragon meanwhile his father was more calm, well rounded, wise like a dragon. So why was Bakugou the mean one of the bunch.

'You can't fix everyone, Y/N.'

Well that sentence surely did not age well, you wince as the healer places an alcohol soaked cotton ball onto your wound. Biting your lip back in pain it takes up all your strength to not pull back and away from the old man.

"I'll be right back, my Queen it seems like you may need some herbs from the garden and recently I've run out. Don't worry it'll only take me five minutes." The healer reassures you, you nod in return pressing the cotton ball into the cut, cleaning the area in the meantime.

"That's alright, take your time." You smile.

The stinging pain slowly subsided when you finally became accustomed to the clear liquid, to handle a dagger will be much harder now. You are determined to prevail, just a small bump in the road nothing quite serious. A knock on the infirmaries white door retracts you from your thoughts, eyes wondering towards the window that overviewed the garden shows it's not the healer.

"Come in."

Short blonde hair with ruby red eyes strut in, Mitsuki, your mother in law smiles down at you. "Hello dear, I heard you were in here.. I wanted to speak to you. Are you okay?"

You can feel your heart nearly drop, your mother in law was as sweet as a ripe strawberry in season but the aura she carried screamed and resembled Katsuki. You nod, greeting her with a formal cheek kiss, "Oh I'm fine just a tiny cut is all. What would be the problem?" You wave off her worry.

"Oh no dear, there is no problem. I'm glad it's just a cut, I was worried it was far worse. I just wanted to spend time with my daughter in law - I wanted you to know that though this may be a hard time, I went through this. You will be just fine. I also... heard your and Katsuki's fight last night.. I didn't mean to intrude I was just on the way to find Melody when I stumbled upon you two, how are you feeling?"

Oh dear. She knew, did anyone else know? Of course people know the two of you were practically testing who can yell the loudest - this is embarrassing. He really did manage to get a rise from you.

You stare down at your palm, this was the first time anyone here has actually asked whether or not you were fine.

"I-I'm okay, he's just hard to get to."

The bed of the infirmary dips slightly beside you as Mitsuki's takes a seat beside you, "Yes, he can be a handful most days. Katsuki doesn't exactly know how to be... nice? It's probably my fault, I was constantly pushing him as a child. You know, he turned out to be a fine warrior; a fine commander." You nod listening to his mother, "I guess the two of you are no longer on speaking terms. I get it, I moved from a neighboring kingdom to here. It was hard to get his father to open up," Mitsuki sighs.

"But the two of you fell in love."

"You are very right, but like all love. It took time."

A silence falls between the two of you, she was the only person who you could remotely relate to right about now. She was the only one who could even fathom how scared you are, you were served with a silver platter all your life nearly always spoon fed and suddenly thrown into a tribe you knew nothing about. "How did you do it?"

Mitsuki arches a brow, "What do you mean?"

"H-How do I survive in that forest? What do I have to expect even after? How did you do it?"

The former queen sighs, eyeing your injury. "Well, from my kingdom we had similar principles I already had the basic knowledge of outdoor survival. To keep it short," She grabs your free hand in comfort. "I'm sure they haven't bothered telling you the objectives, the point system.. the tribal ceremony for those who make it out of alive. You must come out with a Goblin heart, no exceptions. Afterwards believe it or not you are placed on a pedestal at midnight the day you arrive back where you must eat the entire muscle, uncooked. The blood is told it'll bring great fortune and fertility. The process.. was nevertheless grueling I felt like a caged animal with all the drums and cheering. Y/N you must not, and I repeat my not throw up during the feasting."

You nod intently, stomach curling at the thought of a eat raw heart. But tribal traditions and regulations must be met, your heart pounded. It seemed like no matter where you turned there was always a set back, a catch. You survive the forest and now you must feast in front of the entire kingdom?

"Stay high, on top of the trees are the best option. Don't make a fire at night - I know, it'll be tempting. It'll grow cold as night falls, but the most dangerous creatures come out then and are attracted to light. You'll be dead before you even know it." Mitsuki lectures with a stern gaze, tightening her grip around the palm of your uninjured hand. "Find running water, a stream, lake, river. Whatever, it's freshwater. You'll catch your fish there, berries and nuts are also located near there. If you'd like to start a fire I suggest start when the sun rises, the creatures of the forest will retreat since they are nocturnal."

You store this information into your head, such valuable keys of survival. You are determined to return breathing, to return alive.

"Goblins are tricksters - never trust a single word that utters from their mouths. It's poisonous. They are most active during the day, but during sunlight stay low and stay quiet, follow the wind and it'll guide you. That is all I can say, I wish I could say more. Personally, I attempted to change this law for years. It never seemed fair, I pray I see you again Y/N."

"Thank you. I hope to see you as well." You smile sadly at the blonde woman who carried a guilty expression, her hands finally let go of your free one. "I'm terribly sorry, Y/N. I have one last thing to gift you, It's not much. Katsuki was supposed to give it to you this morning but it appears the outskirts have called upon him once again." Mitsuki reaches out for a golden box to the left of her, the velvet embroiled box calls your attention.

"It's said to be a gift from the gods. The gods who birthed dragons, carried down by generations. All Dragon Queens have used this, a sacred weapon to help kill the beast and restore balance; Katsuki has made the executive decision that you get to receive this gift." Mitsuki's hand fiddles with the locks of the box, the top lid opens with a flick of her fingers.

A blade, shines in the light.

Cleaned and sharp, the Queen's dagger passed down from hundreds of years worth of battles.

Is gifted.. to you, by the king.

"I-I can not accept this. This gift, I do not deserve this. It's sacred-" You babble, waving your hands you gently push away the box bestowed to you between the spot that separated the both of you. Two queens of the Dragon Kingdom. "You can, and you will. I was gifted this dagger two months after both I and Masaru's wedding. Katsuki wanted you to have this sacred weapon now. He has chosen you, please take it."

You nod in response, hands trembling as you reach out for the velvet box. The handle of the dagger stings in your possession, the bleeding in your right hand has finally stopped when you hold the blade with two hands. It was much more easier to carry, sharper, and even thinner - as light as a feather, fit for a Queen, fit for battle. It was your husband who bestowed this gift to you, "When you are out there, Y/N. Remember.. to fight like a dragon."

"And how must I manage to fight like a dragon? I don't even know how to throw a dagger properly - at a still object, may I add." You show her the deep cut in need of stiches on your palm, "Dragons, my dear, always find a way to win."

***

Your palm is tightly wrapped with herbs to protect the freshly new stitches, meeting Kirishima in the backwoods where training took place. You managed to learn how to build a fire, a makeshift knife if your original weapon were to ever be kicked away from you, how to catch a fish and how to determine which berries were poisonous and which were safe for consumption.

You wince at the feeling of sharp branches scratching against your bare legs, dressed with royal training gear you wondered if you could actually make it to the finish line. You take a bite of a berry, it's tart yet semi sweet flavor cleans your palette of fish. Kirishima watches from the side with a satisfied grin, nightfall was quickly approaching and since this morning you have requested no sort of rest. You drink away at your makeshift cup, the leaf holding only a handful of water you eagerly drink away at.

Kirishima looks up to the darkening sky, hews of purples, pinks, and blues paint the sky as stars begin to appear.

"I should probably get you back to the Palace," He says wiping his hand away from dirt he collected off the tree bark he leaned against - watching your crouched and exhausted figure warm your hands over the mini fire you created. You look up, "I suppose you're right," You reach over to the stream beside you cupping a handful of water and watering down the fire, stomping it out with wet breaches and leaves. Patting it into the ground to stop the embers from continuing to burn.

Kirishima fiddles with his swords and daggers, "You did great today, Y/N." He praises you, proud of how far you've come in just a day. It took him hours to catch a fish when he was just a child, when his parents were alive. You thank him, moving beside him as the two of you walk down the backwoods trail. Only sharing small talk and friendly conversation.

You hum at the story he told of both him and Bakugou, "Well.. how exactly did the two of you meet. You two seem so close to one another, not to mention.. Kirishima you're very loyal to him - his family. What's your story?" There's a visible hitch in his breath, his shoulders tense up as he stumbles upon his words. "I-I'm so sorry! If you don't want to talk-

Kirishima chuckles waving off your worries, "No, nobody has ever asked me. We were just.. brothers. I met him in the mountains, I was just eight years old and back then Dragon hunting use to be a huge problem. Hunters, Poachers - they would all terrorize Dragons who lived peacefully with no mercy murder entire hoards. My parents.. were hunted and killed along with the entire clan and neighboring tribes. I was running, miles away from my home for days. Crying, hungry, thirsty, I was to afraid to fly because they would see me."

You listen intently, nodding along to his words, saddened by his past. Feeling guilty for even asking, he continues.

"Bakugou, can be mean, a brute, barbaric, and even sometimes cruel. But I promise you he has a good heart; so easily he could've turned his back away from me in the mountains. Let the Goblins and Wolves feast on me, instead he took me in. Into the Royal campgrounds, his parents welcomed me in. Cleaned my wounds, gave me a hot meal, warm milk to combat the winter, fresh pair of boots and clothes, even a warm bed to sleep in. Bakugou didn't talk, didn't even introduce himself to me after a few days. However if he didn't take me in then I would've died alone in the cold. And for that I am loyal to them, hell he even let me hold onto his toy for a while." He chuckles.

A silence grows between the both of you, with only snapping branches beneath your boots. Its crunches sooths the silence until he spoke once more.

"I hope you know you're going to be okay, Y/N. I believe in you, and in three days time when you have to walk into that forest; I am convinced I will see you also walk out.

"Thank you Kirishima, I-I'm sorry for what happened to your family."

The redhead waves you off once more smiling to you as the castle gates approach, "It's okay, things happen for a reason. Now go clean up, Melody should have your bath ready. Sleep tight your Highness." He bows gesturing for you enter passed the gates. You press a small kiss to his cheek watching a dark red blush spread throughout his face, "Goodnight Kirishima."

Walking passed him and into the handmaidens arms, Kirishima watches you. A hand pressed hard onto his sizzling red hot cheek that burned out against his palm, smiling sheepishly, gushing over the lingering feeling of ghost lips that once pressed against his cheek. Turning away with his back foot, he hears two pairs of heavy boots stomping against the ground, royal guards heave - catching their breathes.

"What's wrong- where Bakugou?" Kirishima quickly asks eyeing the guards who ran all the way here from the stables in search for him. "Sir Kirishima, King Bakugou has requested your immediate arrival at the outskirts-"

"It's the eggs, sir!" The other interrupts, "The Dragon eggs, the four Gardina left behind."

***

"What's the problem? What happened with the eggs, I thought they were fine."

"Since Gardina's sudden death the eggs need warmth, there's talk from other kingdoms across the seas even, that people are thinking about stealing them, selling them for one million gems on the magical black market." Bakugou grimaces, his arms crossed over his chest. "It seems that we should pay a visit, remind them who we are."

Kirishima nods his head, moving along with his friend passed the campfire where soldiers sat. "What can I do to help?"

Bakugou moves the curtains of his tent, "After you train Y/N, the same day as the games I need you to take the eggs and hide them away as far as possible, I don't care where just away from here. Hide them with the others in the mountains if you'd like - we can not afford them to go missing. Far too dangerous for anyone else." The blond commands, tiredness seeps through his voice as he rubs his eyes to combat the sleep he's been in desperate need for. "I'll give you the green light when to bring them back, I won't return to the Kingdom until the day of the games. Did my mother give Y/N the Royal Dagger?"

Nodding to himself Kirishima smiles, "Yes, she was given it this morning just before noon."

"How did she do?" Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, "Rocky as first, but the girl picks up fast. Will you be here to send her off?" Kirishima tilts his head crossing his arms, "I don't know if she wants me there."

"If you care about her coming back alive, you'll be there." ***

- 3 days later -

The carriage ride is slow, dangerously slow as you remember the long tight hug Melody gave you before your leave at the sunset, Former Queen Mitsuki sits in front of you, her hand clutches onto yours in comfort as you shake in fear in your seat. Kirishima is waiting outside the enchanted forest where it was the most safest - a crowd has formed of simple tribe and clan members outside their homes as they attempt to try and get a glimpse of you; their Queen.

You have yet to meet them, only knowing the castle walls and the workers who served.

You can feel your dagger inside it's brown leather hostler dig into your thigh; but it's fine. It's the only thing keeping you distracted from your pounding heart beat against your chest and the clamminess of your palms. The stitch's finally healed by a magic teller.

You don't even notice the purple hews of the setting sun turning pitch black with only the moon and stars to prove it's light on the passage way; you breath deeply through your nose. Watching how you approached the enchanted forest quicker then you anticipated. Queen Mitsuki and King Masaru insisted you sleep, but you respectfully declined. How were you supposed to sleep when you were being forced into the most dangerous forest known to mankind. They could've just simply pushed you into a hungry Dragon's nest.

The carriage stops and the horses neigh signaling your arrival, a part of you wishes your mother had declined the offer of King Bakugou it would've been nice if he were to even apologize. But since you do not live in a fantasy world, you are reminded this is real life. And you are most certain no prince dressed in armor will come to your rescue and insists he runs off with you. You're stuck here.

You look back nervously at the former king and queen who both bite back their bottom lips, "I will see you in three days time. We both will."

The door to your side of the carriage is thrown open by Kirishima who holds his hand out to grip yours, "M'lady."

Hesitantly you let go of Mitsuki's hand, bidding the two goodbye and latch onto Kirishima's calloused rough ones. Your boots settle into the ground when you let go of his hand, eyes catching a pair of vermillion orbs, ones you haven't seen in three days. His necklaces of teeth he's collected over the years frightens you, will you have a necklace like that one day? "Are you ready, my Queen."

His eyes.

They say nothing at all, just a simple red gleam. He watches you approach the entrance of what seemingly looked like a one way ticket to death, is he going to say anything all? Probably not.

His malicious words still ring clear in your mind, "You wont be a Queen if you're dead."

Death is something you refuse to meet, at least not yet. You turn to face him, he has no emotion and the tears that threaten to spill are wiped away by your wrist. The only people here to witness the games are him, Kirishima, a few men from the counsels parliament, royal soldiers (who you suppose are only here to protect the king and stop you if you decide to run) and both Bakugou's parents who insisted on staying in the carriage. Bakugou's quiet glare is something most would be terrified of, but you refuse to be belittled and underestimated.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Kirishima ask, your eyes detach from the blonds. Nodding you wipe your clammy hand against the leather hunting skirt you were dressed in. "I'm fine, I'm ready."

You're scared. That's an understatement, "Time starts as soon as you enter, retrieve the Goblin heart and come back here the third day at sunset. If you are not here by then we will assume you have died." A counsel man announces, you hold back the urge to flip him off - he didn't know you. Nor did you know him, to throw your life away as if it were never meaningful to another was plain cruel but there was a thing you refused to do.

Give up.

"I'll see you later Y/N."

'I will not die'

You set out into the forest, without looking back, with the feeling of two vermillion eyes staring into your back.

TAGLIST: @loxbbg @urmomsshousee @samkysnks @mikithekiki @aegeanblues @mykuronekome @lowkey-a-faerie-in-disguise @orange-aesthetic-yay @katsukibabe @vvanills @katiekat300 @utterlyconfused-tm @learningasigo @bigkoalafications @bnhaficswriter @tspice283 @simpforeveryone @crackhead1-800 @poetryandhoetry01 @bakasbitch18 @riceballsandanime @franko-pop @lostmarimoismyhubby @junniev8 @thirsthourdemon @cowward @the2ndl @reaperintheroses @bakugousmrs @maemi324 @beautifulparisiangirl @commandertorinshepard @bnhafan101 @meliapis @thecaoswitch @liviwivi1 @hikaru-mikazuki @angie-1306 @theinfamoushotdog @minibobabottle @honeylemondragonemperor @iloveitblackbnha @yokesmam @annepamgkrth @the2ndl @sugarandsoft

AUTHORS NOTE: Personally one of the worst fucking chapters I’ve produced, anyways yooo Bakugou kinda feels guilty Y/N is going through this but you know this is going to be a strength building exercise for her. The ceremony after is based off of GOT so iykyk. Anyways my eye has been shut for like three days it just keeps watering and so irritating to write with. Okay I’m done ranting, I hope you liked it.

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persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Safe

A Danse and Nora fic.

[Read on AO3]

-----------

“It’s eerie how well preserved this area is,” Paladin Danse said, as the elevator cage opened to reveal the silent Vault 111 in front of him.

“That was kind of the whole point, Danse,” Nora said, smiling over at him. “If they could preserve me this well for 200 years, it only makes sense that the metal walls held up too.”

“They preserved you wonderfully,” Danse agreed with a nod.

“Is that a line?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the Paladin and making a slight blush rise in his stubbly cheeks.

“I… of course not,” Danse fumbled. “I just meant, from a medical standpoint, what they were able to achieve in this vault was… impressive.” Danse let his words trail off towards the end of his sentence, finding that he was only making things worse.

“Relax, Paladin,” Nora said, her grin still in place. “I was only joking.”

“Of course,” Danse said, trying to sound confident even though he still felt flustered. “I knew that.”

The way Nora gave him a short nod and held back a laugh before walking further into the vault told him that she knew he was lying. He appreciated that she didn’t state this outright.

Danse followed behind the vault dweller in silence. Or, in as much silence as he could manage when the sound of his power armor reverberated off the walls so loudly.

“The gun should be right through here,” Nora said, leading Danse through the halls of Vault 111 expertly. “I saw it when I first… woke up in here. But I wasn’t as familiar with lockpicking back then.”

“You’ve definitely honed that skill since wandering the Wasteland,” Danse agreed, giving her the smallest ghost of a smile.

He admired Nora for so many reasons. Her lockpicking skill was just one of the many ways she’d adapted to an impossible situation after waking up to a world she didn’t recognize.

She’d lost her son. She’d lost her husband. And yet, Danse had never seen her show the people of the Commonwealth anything but kindness. He didn’t know such people still existed in the world. Meeting her had shifted his perspective on a lot of things.

“If I can get the lock open, will you check out the gun to see if it’s something that might be useful for us?” Nora asked, shaking Danse from his internal musings.

“Of course,” he answered.

Nora led him to a small room within the vault and quickly began working on the locked glass case that held the gun.

“It’s called a Cryolator,” Nora explained, puckering her lips as she moved the bobby pin and screwdriver in such small subtle ways that Danse could hardly tell she was moving them at all. “From what I read on the terminals when I first woke up here, the Overseer of the vault made it as a way to pass time. It’s supposed to freeze enemies.”

“That definitely sounds like a unique weapon to have in your arsenal.

Nora nodded but didn’t say anything. She was focused on the lock in front of her, still trying to crack it as Danse watched her.

In this moment, with her full attention taken up by something else, Danse allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence. He watched the way her brown hair fell out of its bun in small wispy strands. He saw the freckles on her cheeks that she swore she didn’t have before leaving the vault. He studied the way her vault suit fit her a little too perfectly, which had been one of the reasons he’d tried to convince her to trade it in for a Brotherhood suit.

Her pink lips were still puckered as her long fingers worked at the lock.

Danse swallowed hard, realizing that he shouldn’t be staring at his partner this way.

“Bingo!” Nora said, standing aside with a triumphant smile.

“Outstanding, soldier,” Danse said, hating the way his voice sounded ever-so-slightly off after studying her so closely.

“Have at it, partner,” Nora said, gesturing to the gun and standing aside.

The Cryolator was definitely something Sanctuary could use to keep the settlement well-defended. And as Danse studied the weapon, he imagined the various ways it could be used to ward off Raiders.

“You really do wonderful work, soldier. Have I told you that lately?” Danse asked, turning around to find that he was alone. “Nora?”

Feeling his pulse pick up a few paces, he left the small room and began making his way through the halls of Vault 111.

What if something had happened to her? What if Raiders had been camping out inside the vault and they’d somehow missed them on the way in?

It wasn’t until Danse entered a cold room full of large metal containers that he found his partner. She was standing in front of one of the pods with an expression he couldn’t read. When Danse approached and curiously looked at the frozen man behind the glass, his brain made the connection.

This had to be Nate. This had to be the man Nora had loved. The man she’d built a life with, only to have it all stripped away in mere seconds.

He looked from the man in the pod to Nora, watching the way her jaw tightened as she stared at her spouse. She didn’t let any tears fall, though Danse wouldn't have faulted her if she did.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her at a moment like this. He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to grieve however she wanted. He wanted to make this better for her. But he was at a loss.

“Take all the time you need, soldier,” he said, because what else could he really say?

“I’m fine,” Nora replied, taking a deep breath, turning on her heel, and walking quickly away from the room.

Danse barely had time to register what had happened before she disappeared completely.

He could hear the sound of the vault elevator in the distance as it brought Nora back up to the surface.

She probably needs a few moments alone, he thought to himself, looking back at the lifeless form of the man Nora had loved. The one she had trusted.

His heart ached for her.

Danse waited a while before making his way back to the vault elevator, not wanting to impose on Nora’s private moment the way he accidentally had when he’d clomped into the cryochamber. But to his surprise, Nora wasn’t waiting for him on the surface.

She probably went back to Sanctuary.

He wasn’t sure if this was true, but he hoped it was. Any time he lost sight of Nora, he began to feel a panic take over his heart. He’d had a lot of partners and lost a lot of partners. But he’d never worried so much over someone in his life.

Nora had proven herself a capable soldier in the field. Despite her kindness and her tenderness, she could also be tough. She was a walking contradiction wrapped up in a blue and gold vault suit. Danse didn’t have to worry about her being safe on her own.

And yet, he did.

The sound of Danse’s power armor tromping through the dirt was anything but stealthy, but he didn’t care about being quiet at the moment. He only cared about finding Nora and making sure she was okay.

Walking through the streets of Sanctuary, Danse found the first settler he could, even though he wasn’t exactly happy with who it was.

“Have you seen Nora?” he asked the ghoul in front of him.

“Wait… are you actually asking me, a lowly ghoul, for help?” Hancock asked, his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

The Paladin knew the ghoul was pushing his buttons on purpose. And in the back of his mind, he knew he deserved it. But that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell Danse’s rage.

“Listen to me, you…”

“Careful Danse, if you get too worked up, your power armor might rust and you’ll be stuck in there forever,” Deacon said, stepping up beside Hancock with a matching smile.

Of course it had to be Deacon.

If there was one person who liked to get under Danse’s skin more than Hancock, it was Deacon.

Danse clenched his jaw tightly, to try to keep his temper from flaring up. “Nora is distraught from something we encountered on our mission,” Danse began. “As her partner, it’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

“I think he still thinks he’s part of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Hancock said to Deacon.

The jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But the reminder that the organization he’d dedicated his entire life to had thrown him out like an old pipe pistol after they’d found out who he really was, stung him to his core.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with the way things had ended. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with who… or what… he truly was.

But Nora was. She wasn’t just okay with what he was, she’d convinced him that he had something to live for. She’d saved his life in so many ways. Because that’s who she was.

“Garvey,” Danse said, while still keeping his eyes locked on Hancock’s in a scowl.

He’d been aware that Preston Garvey had been watching the exchange with mild interest. He also knew that Preston would give him the information he needed, rather than needling him for fun.

“The General is in her old house,” Preston said.

“Oh come on,” Deacon whined. “Why did you have to ruin our fun?”

Danse simply shook his head in annoyance, never letting the scowl leave his features as he walked away from Hancock and Deacon. “Thank you, Garvey.”

“Ad Victorium!” Deacon called after Danse’s retreating form.

“Ingrates,” Danse mumbled under his breath as he made his way to Nora’s old home in the quickly fading light.

It didn’t take long for his expression to soften as he heard the soft sounds of music coming from her living room.

Danse exited his power armor and knocked on the front door, straightening his posture and trying to figure out what he could possibly say to Nora about what she’d just seen. He should have known that going back into Vault 111 would be difficult for her. The fact that it had never crossed his mind only made him feel that much more responsible for her current dismay.

“Come in,” she called over the music.

Danse opened the door to her home and entered the living room to find Nora sitting on the couch with a large bottle of bourbon in her hand.

“Soldier,” Danse warned. “I know it’s tempting to lose yourself to something like that. But it isn’t wise.”

Nora laughed at his words before patting the couch beside her. “Come sit with me, Danse.”

The Paladin looked around the room, as if he’d find someone else there who would tell him it was a bad idea. There was no one. And the voice in his head that was constantly telling him to be better was nowhere to be found right at that moment.

Danse swallowed hard before taking a seat beside Nora. He felt oddly exposed without his power armor on. With only the orange Brotherhood jumpsuit between himself and the outside world, he wasn’t quite sure how to act. He felt too vulnerable.

“Why do you still wear that thing?” Nora asked, running her free hand over the arm of Danse’s jumpsuit in a way that gave him goosebumps.

“I could ask you the same question,” he answered with a smile, looking at her blue vault suit.

She took another long drink from the bourbon bottle before smiling at him. “Touche, Paladin.”

The bottle was almost empty and he silently cursed himself for giving her so much time to herself after she left the vault. She’d most definitely be inebriated by now.

The way she lazily watched him told him that the alcohol was definitely doing its job. And while he didn’t approve of her drinking, he had to admit it made it easier for him to address what had just happened.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

“You mean after seeing my dead husband frozen in a metal container?” her words should have sounded harsh, but coming from Nora, nothing sounded harsh. “I’ve felt better.”

“I know that couldn’t have been easy, seeing him like that again.”

“I wasn’t planning on going into that room,” Nora admitted after another drink. She looked down at the bottle in her hands. “I told myself I wouldn’t do it. And then I did.”

Danse watched her carefully. Her cheeks and nose were red from the bourbon and she looked sad. Sadder than he’d seen her in a while. How could he possibly make this better.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Nora looked over at him. Her green eyes were wide as she watched him. “You remind me of Nate sometimes.”

“Oh?” Danse wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. Keeping his response vague felt like the best course of action.

“I mean… you don’t really remind me of him. But that feeling of safety I always felt with him… I feel that with you too.” Nora smiled now, before setting the bottle down on the coffee table in front of her. “I feel safe with you. And that’s… it’s an invaluable thing in the Commonwealth.”

Danse tried to look away from Nora as she spoke, feeling uncomfortable with how vulnerable she was being. But he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Thank you, soldier.”

Nora laughed softly at his response. “You don’t have to call me that,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “We’re not on some official assignment. You were just… accompanying me on my own little recon mission.”

“I prefer keeping things formal,” Danse lied. The truth was, he didn’t feel like keeping things formal with Nora. But he wouldn’t tell her that in a million years. Danse was broken beyond repair. Nora was many things, but there was no way she would be saintly enough to look past what he was.

“Do you really, Danse?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and leaning in closer.

“I think you should probably go lie down for the night,” Danse said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at just how close they were on the couch. “Sleep off that bourbon.”

Nora leaned away from him and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

She seemed… disappointed. Danse wasn’t sure why she’d be upset by his suggestion.

As Nora stood up from the couch, she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

“Okay fine,” she said with a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. I do need to sleep this off.”

“Indeed,” Danse answered, standing up and placing his hand under her elbow to help keep her steady. “Easy now.”

Nora leaned against him as he walked her through the hall to her bedroom at the back of the house. He tried to ignore the way his breath seemed to catch in his throat at her touch.

When they entered her room, Danse let her go for a moment to pull her covers down for her. When he turned back around, she was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You always take good care of me,” she said, her voice so low that he could barely hear it.

“I'll always have your back,” he said. “That’s what we do. We watch out for each other.”

“We do,” she said, the lazy smile returning to her lips.

Danse watched her in silence for a moment before his discomfort grew to be too much. “Are you ready for bed?” he asked, looking away from Nora for a moment.

“Was that a line?” she asked, her grin widening.

“Nothing I’ve said today has been a line,” Danse said, hoping she was too intoxicated to notice how red his cheeks had become.

Nora stepped closer to Danse with the grin still in place. “Are you sure about that?”

Danse backed away from her but couldn’t move very far before the back of his legs hit the mattress. Not wanting to encourage her further, he stepped away from the bed. Of course, this only brought him closer to her.

Seeming to take this as a sign, Nora pressed her lips firmly against his. She tasted like alcohol, which only helped to remind Danse of why this was incredibly inappropriate.

Pushing her away gently he tried to gather his thoughts as his mind desperately tried to push him closer to her again. “Soldier, this is… inappropriate.” His words were stilted and his voice sounded tight.

“Again, Danse, that’s kind of the point,” Nora said, bringing her lips to his again and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Danse knew he should push her away. She was intoxicated and he had no business kissing her. But he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back. Only for a moment. Only long enough for his heart to begin hammering inside of his chest.

His breathing was shallow as his mouth moved with hers, and he hated himself for kissing her back when it was so obvious she wasn’t in her right mind. The guilt that flooded his mind was only outweighed by the sudden deep desire he had to deepen the kiss.

Danse couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly kissed. And as much as his hands were itching to pull Nora closer, he pushed her away again.

“Soldier,” he began. “Nora… this… this isn’t okay. You’re drunk.” His voice was soft as he stared into her green eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked into his soul when he’d first found out he was a synth. Those green eyes that had convinced him he had something to live for.

“I’m not that drunk,” she said. “And I know what I want.”

Nora kissed him again, this time more desperately. She parted his lips with her own, tangling her fingers in his dark hair and pulling him closer and closer. Her kisses grew hungrier with every second and with each one, Danse found himself less able to do the right thing.

He wanted her. And that realization terrified him. He’d never wanted anyone this way.

“Nora, please,” he insisted between kisses. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist the woman he’d spent so long admiring.

In response, Nora dropped her hands to Danse’s waist, pulling him against her. “Don’t you want this?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve always thought you did.”

How did he respond to that? He couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. That he’d wanted this since he’d met her. That would only encourage her. And Danse wasn’t the type of person to take advantage of someone when they couldn’t properly think for themselves.

“Nora,” he said, pushing her hands away and taking a breathless step back. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched her. Even now, knowing he had to do the right thing, his body was screaming at him to pull her close again. “You’ve had too much to drink.” His words were short and to the point. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay away if he let any emotion sneak into his voice right at that moment. “If this happened, it wouldn’t be right.”

“I already told you I want this,” Nora insisted, but as she took a step closer to Danse, he sidestepped her.

“You aren’t sober enough to make that decision,” Danse answered, furrowing his brow and wishing Nora hadn’t found that bottle of bourbon. “So I’m making it for you. You need to go to sleep.”

Nora watched him with hurt in her green eyes, her brows knitting together. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” she said, turning away from him. She seemed to take a deep breath before crawling into her bed.

Nora turned her back to Danse, instead facing the wall after lying down. The silence between them was suddenly deafening.

Even though he knew he was doing the right thing, her response made him feel like the bad guy.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he said. “I just… want you to be safe.”

He watched her for a moment longer, feeling like he’d done something wrong somehow.

“Goodnight, Danse,” Nora said.

He sighed deeply at her words. In the morning, he’d come by and check on her. She probably wouldn’t remember any of this. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad that he couldn’t say the same.

This evening would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. The feeling of Nora kissing him was going to make it almost impossible for him to keep working with her. He’d always been vaguely aware of his feelings for her, but he’d managed to tell himself that they were simply a result of finding a genuinely kind human being in the midst of a place as awful as the Commonwealth.

Now he knew the truth. He was head over heels for Nora. But he knew there was no way she’d ever want a synth. And why should she? He’d brought her into the Brotherhood. He’d taught her that synths were an abomination. And now he’d have to reap what he’d sown.

He watched her with sad eyes as her breathing slowed down and she fell asleep.

He’d be a good friend to her. He’d always try to be a good friend to her. Because despite his feelings that he knew couldn’t be reciprocated, she deserved a good friend. Danse would rather have Nora in his life as a friend than not at all. And even though he knew it would be torture to be around her after realizing just how much he cared for her, he couldn’t live with the alternative.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he said into the now-dark house.

[Part 2]

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #danse #paladin danse #fallout danse #nora #fallout nora #sole survivor #fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #danse x sole survivor #danse x sole #paladin danse x sole survivor

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

to taste your beating heart (4)

warnings: nightmares, flashbacks, mind control/thrall mention, mental breakdown, blood mention, impalement/staking, upsetting thoughts, panic, ptsd responses

A plastic-sounding click, like someone pressing a button.

Anx took a breath, staring intently at the person bustling around across from him.

Patton was making tea like someone vying for a professional butler position: setting saucers and cups in front of each of them, managing the teapot with a steady hand, motions smooth and automatic.

“Sorry, I’m just so used to setting up refreshments for guests,” he chuckled nervously. “My sister always insists on tea when she comes by, so—“

Logan shifted next to him, impatient and more than a little irritated after every one of his inquiries had been deflected or outright ignored. Patton had invited them in, though, and he was currently their best lead on one of the most vicious cases they’d ever dealt with.

Even if he seemed utterly incapable of answering any of their actual questions.

That wasn't saying he wasn't willing to talk at all. Roman was chattering with him, their most sociable member easily drawn into discussion and more than willing to natter on in the hopes that Patton would let some vital information slip.

Anx wasn’t the only one who noted the way their host set an extra saucer and cup out, but when he met Logan’s gaze, the hunter only rolled his eyes, more than content to dismiss it as another element of the stranger’s apparent airheaded personality.

Patton was still speaking, discussing the many alleged merits of ignoring allergies for the sake of fulfilling experiences. Roman, who was lactose intolerant, was nodding along wholeheartedly. Logan, who was the one to deal with Roman’s post-dairy consumption whining, looked a lot less agreeable.

His own attention remained pinned on Patton’s movements rather than his words. There was a pattern there, a careful turn of the cup so the handle was facing the right side, lift the teapot from the warmer, and pour. One by one, he went around the table.

Anx was the only one watching when the man finally fumbled. After pouring each of their cups with surprising grace, he reached that final, fifth teacup. He twisted the handle so it was right-aligned, lifted the teapot, poured— and then reached for what looked like a cream pitcher.

A beat late, Patton’s hands suddenly swerved to the side, and he pulled them back as though he’d been burned. His voice didn’t even falter.

Anx reached across the table lightning-quick and seized the pitcher, knocking a few of the porcelain jars over and effectively cutting through the conversion as he did. Roman was asking something, but Patton only stared at him, something both fearful and grateful in his gaze.

Anx pulled the lid off, and the thick smell of blood hit him, like iron and rust.

“Your sister, you said?” Logan asked, and Patton bit his lip hard enough to bleed.

Click.

He was in a different room of the same tiny apartment, though it took him a moment to recognize the interior.

Put bluntly, it looked as though a miniature hurricane had torn through it.

The wallpaper was shredded and splattered. The cute decorative furniture had been thrown askew at best, smashed to bits at worst. Everything was in disarray, the valuable and mundane targeted indiscriminately. An entire life torn to pieces.

In the eye of the storm, Patton stood, hands fisted in his hair and eyes bloodshot.

They’d known the backlash of the bond breaking would be hard on Patton, but they hadn’t been prepared for this. It was entirely possible that they had never run into a thrall this strong, one maintained for so long, in their entire hunting career.

Most aggressive thralls would attack relentlessly to defend their master from harm. Seeing as they’d been the ones to kill his “sister”, if Patton was going to vent his ire on anyone, it would be them. Roman stepped forwards carefully regardless, knowing that they owed it to him to at least try to help him recover. “Patton?”

“I should have helped her,” he replied tonelessly, voice half-ruined from screaming. He picked up a broken chunk of a table leg, and they all went tense, but all he did was slam it against the wall.

“I should have saved her!” he cried, punctuating every word with a swing. “Where is she, where is she, what did I do to her?”

“A better question would be: what did she do to you?” Logan asked, ignoring the sharp look Anx sent his way. They’d all been unsettled at the way the vamp had talked about Patton, like someone possessive over a favored plaything, but that didn’t mean they should be bringing it up now.

They’d finally gotten Patton’s full attention, as he turned to them with angry tears in his eyes. “She did everything for me! And I— I gave her away, I betrayed her…”

“She was hurting people,” Anx cut in, voice firm but not unkind. For all that he’d been through, Patton didn’t deserve unkind.

“I could have fixed it, I thought I was— I was getting through to her,” he pleaded, his voice unsteady and unconvincing even to himself. He dropped the wood, pressing bleeding knuckles against his face to stem the tears.

“It’s not your fault, Patton, okay?” Roman tried, stepping closer until he could reach out and set his hand on a trembling shoulder. Patton only seemed to bow further with the weight of his grief.

“Giving her up was supposed to kill me,” he said softly, the frenzy gone from him. “How am I supposed to live without her?”

“The same way everyone else does,” Roman pulled him in for a hug, his own eyes wetter than they’d been before. “One day at a time.”

Click.

The living room of the house— their house.

Perhaps more importantly, the smell of something burning.

Anx had always been twitchy about things like this-- a thousand potential disasters in mind for every little inconvenience-- so he bolted off the arm of the couch the moment the scent registered.

When he got to the kitchen, he heard the rattle of an active microwave, saw Patton standing and staring blankly at the display as the inside of the microwave clouded up with smoke.

Cringing at the thought of the smoke alarm going off, he turned on the overhead fan and pulled the window up before finally yanking the microwave door open.

A plastic takeout container was halfway to a melted puddle, mixing with whatever leftovers had formerly resided there. He slid on a pair of duck-themed oven mitts and grabbed the most solid-looking parts, quickly lifting and carrying the mess to the balcony where it could cool down without making their house smell like burnt plastic.

When he returned, Patton was still in that same spot, frowning slightly as though just realizing that something might be a little off. Like someone had pressed pause while the world fast-forwarded around him, Patton had described it once.

Anx flitted about for a moment, putting the mitts back and cleaning the leftover residue, and then finally faced his friend with a wry half-smile. Patton’s eyes snapped to him, as though just realizing he was there.

“Hey, Pat.” He reached out and set his hand against Patton’s back, watching as the touch helped ground him slightly. “Can you go sit at the table? I’ll bring us both something to eat.”

Without a word, Patton turned and walked to their little dining table.

Cooking was admittedly harder when he ducked away to check on the other room every few moments, but he managed alright, only singeing the eggs slightly where Roman would have incinerated them.

He set the table for them both, and sat across from Patton, who was motionless and quiet in his chair.

“Can we eat together?” Anx asked, offering Patton a fork so there was a physical prompt as well as a verbal one.

It took a moment, but Patton gripped the fork easily and started to work through the motions of eating, mirroring Anx. Whenever he faltered or seemed to forget what he was in the middle of, Anx would nudge his attention back on track.

Once they were finished, he gathered up his dishes and asked Patton to grab his, carrying them back to the kitchen together.

Patton paused for a moment at the sink, mouth twitching into a frown as he stared at his glass and the lingering layer of orange juice at the bottom.

“Does anyone want tea?” he asked suddenly, a well-practiced line in a cheery tone. “I’m very good at tea service, you know.”

Anx swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m good, Pat,” he declined instead of pointing out that they didn’t have any tea in the house.

Patton seemed to get a little hazier, his face going sad and then quickly lax again. Anx took the glass from him and offered him a hand to hold instead, squeezing his palm comfortingly when he accepted.

“I need help out in the garden today. Do you think you could lend a hand or two?”

He dipped his head in a nod, and as they made their way to the back door, Anx shot a text off to the group chat.

> nightmare on edge street: out in the garden with pat. bad day protocol, stat

When they came back in hours later, dirt under their nail beds and probably a little sunburned, Roman and Logan had already combined their talents to set up an elaborately decorated but still structurally sound blanket fort spanning the entirety of the living room.

Patton’s face twitched into a tremulous little smile as the others waved them over, and Anx felt him squeeze their joined hands gratefully.

Click.

The sequence rewound, restarted. Ran him through it over and over, the same scenes-- the same memories. Patton pouring tea with a determined, terrified glint to his eye. Patton’s mind struggling under the stress of the snapped bond. Patton working through a difficult day with the help of friends.

The scenery grew brighter and brighter with every repetition, like saturation turned all the way up on a screen, until they were as painful as sunlight on his bare skin. He tried to close his eyes, to move away, to change something, anything, but his body wasn’t his own.

Look at him, it seemed to demand, keeping him frozen in a sensory hell. Pay attention. Look what you did. Understand how you hurt him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Clunk.

Silence. The memories vanished, leaving him floating in an impossible, endless black space. Between one blink and the next, he was eye-to-eye with a mirror image, something about it just slightly off.

He didn’t notice the stake in its hand until it was too late.

---

Anx jerked upright, hands jumping to his chest as the phantom sensation of wood between his ribs faded. His breath stuttered painfully, as though he expected to feel ichor welling up in his mouth any minute.

Staking a vampire was an archaic hunter method. It was difficult to manage, it was messy, and it was the slowest and most painful way possible to kill a vampire. He knew this, though he wasn’t sure which life was providing the facts.

Regardless of memories, he couldn’t know how it felt to actually be staked. He’d been injured before, with a coven as temperamental as his, but nothing like that. Nothing even close to that. It was just a bad dream, an imagined pain.

There was a subtle shifting nearby, and his head snapped up, eyes bright and teeth bared. If those assholes thought he was in the mood to have his space invaded--

“Easy, Count Chocula.” Across the room, the sword-wielder-- Roman, that was his name-- settled back into the armchair by the door, watching him with narrowed eyes. “I was simply noticing your… abrupt awakening?”

Right. Because he wasn’t settled into one of the tiny, dark rooms reserved for the newly-turned and those who couldn’t shake off the urge to sleep. He was captured by weird hunters, who trapped him in their weird house, and asked weird invasive leading questions about his weird night terrors.

He was also tucked into a bed, for some reason.

The comforter had already slipped down halfway due to his sudden jolt into wakefulness, and he wasted no time in kicking free of the sheets. The room was surprisingly dark in both theme and lighting, with deep purple walls and heavy spiderweb-patterned curtains blocking out any potential sunlight.

There was also a warding circle of ash carefully smudged in a perimeter around the bed, the burning containment runes strong enough to make him want to sneeze even from this distance. The diameter of the circle was wide enough that he could theoretically keep away from any stabbings if he pissed Roman off enough, but add even one more hunter to the mix and it would take virtually no effort to pincer him.

Nothing he could do about the new cage for now, with the hunter staring at him expectantly from his sentry position. He sent a poisonous glare back and hissed, still crouched on the bed like an exceptionally angry gargoyle.

Roman pressed an offended hand to his chest, but was cut off by an inordinately cheerful knock at the door. His expression flickered to a sort of bitter resignation, and he shot Anx a much more serious warning look before unlocking and cracking the door open.

“Hey, Pat! I thought you were taking a nap?” he asked with impressively feigned lightness to his voice.

“I was, I just— Is he awake?” Another too-familiar voice replied, sounded distracted. “I felt…”

“Yeah, Padre,” Roman admitted after a strained pause. “He’s up. You remember your key?”

“Of course!” Patton said, and neither of them elaborated on what the hell that was supposed to mean. Roman stepped aside, and Patton beelined to the bed like a compass needle to true north.

He stopped just short of the circle, like a determined enough— or cornered enough— vamp couldn’t reach out and drag him in. “Anx! I’ve been so worried about you! You took quite a tumble, are you feeling alright?”

Anx stared at him. The words were bright, but there was a thread of something fervent and barely-controlled in them, something frenetic in the way he shifted from foot to foot. It sent a pervasive feeling of wrongness down his spine, like looking at an old photograph and realizing that something you remembered from it was entirely absent.

Anx didn’t— couldn’t know enough about Patton to recognize when he was acting off, but every piece slotted neatly into place anyways, dragging him to a conclusion he didn’t intend to realize; Patton was pretending, ignoring the parts of him that felt bad to reassure the rest of them. After everything he'd already gone through, he was bearing the stress of being thralled without a word.

He could feel the thrall tether pulled taut between them, already mentally frayed from both the time passed since feeding and the pain that had ricocheted through him at his last order. Looking at Patton like this, it was bizarrely easy to loosen his grip and let that last thread connecting them fall apart.

Patton’s shoulders eased, all of him sagging slightly like a puppet with strings cut. And wasn’t that just an uncomfortably accurate metaphor.

In the next moment, the hunter was stepping neatly over the line of ash and into the circle, arms lifted. Roman shouted something, but his alarmed words were meaningless noise against the roar of anticipatory fear that overcame Anx.

Get away, his instincts screamed, but his body remained stuck, stalled by a resentful whisper in the back of his mind: Doesn’t he deserve to get a few hits in though? Look at what you did to him.

A sudden touch made him curl in on himself, but the arms that folded around him were careful, even gentle. His head jerked up, and sure enough, Patton was hugging him. He froze, struck dumb.

Over Patton’s shoulder, Roman was stopped a few feet away, hand outstretched as though he’d planned to yank Patton back out of the danger zone. Anx met his stare, eyes round as quarters.

“I did not tell him to do this,” he blurted, and Patton’s chest vibrated with a little sniffly chuckle. The human was so warm.

At the door, Logan appeared, glasses slightly askew. “Patton? I heard—“

He paused, taking in the room. His expression grew more and more unimpressed. “... I see. Exactly what happened while I was away?”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #vampire au #ttybh #to taste your beating heart #couldnt find a good stopping point T-T #Hope you guys enjoy!#writing #my writing #pov is confusing at the start but i hope it makes sense

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glassartpeasants · 2 years

Text

Sickening Whispers

Ghost!Isaac Grossman x GN!Reader

Warnings: parents fighting, horror type elements, paranormal, paranoia, mentions of death and pet death, mentions of domestic abuse

Chapter 4: Past to Present

~~~

PING

The sound of your phone notifications going off woke you up from your sleep. Rolling over to the other side of the bed, you rub your eyes before grabbing your phone, the sunlight peering into the room making it hard to see the screen. Squinting your eyes, you finally managed to read it.

"Hey, the thing is done. Turns out it's a knife. You can come to pick it up today."

You jumped out of bed and ran towards your dresser to pick out some clothes. You've wanted two agonizing days for it to be done! You couldn't wait to finally see what all that rust hid from you! You jumped out of bed and quickly ran to put some clothes on, your smile from ear to ear in excitement. Grabbing your things, you quickly hustle downstairs before stopping in your tracks. Your face quickly turns into a frown as the sound of your parents fighting echoes throughout the halls.

Your once happy mood was soured even more when you saw your brother looking down at his feet with his backpack on. Grabbing your phone, you look at the time and know that he only had ten minutes left before he was late for school, and the time it took to get there were 45 minutes. You walk over to your brother and ask him what happened.

"The teachers told on me to them, and they just started fighting. I've been trying to butt in to say I was gonna be late, but they didn't care and just continued to fight about what punishment I should get." You look at your parents and hear them blaming each other for your brother's shift in behavior'. You scream at them, causing them to stop and look at you. Your father's face was bright red, and your mother's knuckles were pale from restraining her anger.

"It wasn't his fault! I wanted to hang out with him to make up for yelling at him the other day. The teachers there weren't letting me take him out. I came up with a plan for him to just run out and jump into the car. So if you're going to yell at anyone, yell at me!" Both your parents were silent as they looked at you with wide eyes. Your mother sighed as she fixed her posture and looked at you and (B/N).

"I'm deeply sorry. I just got caught up in the moment. I shouldn't let my anger be in front of you. And I'm sorry that you're going to be late (B/N). I hope you can forgive me." You could tell your mother did feel sorry for arguing in front of you guys, but your father said no apologies. All he did was brush past your mother and stomp his way to their shared bedroom.

Your brother could only nod as he grabbed your hand and started to drag you out the door. Your mother wished you a good day to you both and said she loved you before the front door closed and you both got into the car.

Once the car starts, you drive down the bumpy road toward civilization. The sun's light was barely visible through all the unkept trees hanging above you. That's when you heard your brother crying in the passenger seat beside you.

"Hey, hey! What's wrong?" Your brother looked at you with tear-covered eyes before letting out a minor hiccup.

"It's all my fault there fighting! I should have just waited to hang out with you!" Seeing your brother so distraught made you pull the car over the side of the road. Putting it in park so you could give him your full attention.

"Hey, it's not your fault. If anything, I'm the one that should have waited to pick you up. Plus, that still doesn't excuse them from fighting in front of you. Don't let it eat you up inside, okay? How about we listen to some tunes on the way to school? Does that sound fun?" Your brother looked at you with still teary eyes as he nodded his head. Smiling, you gave him complete control of the radio as you made your way to his school. But that still seemed to not lighten up his mood.

"Anything else bothering you? You know you can tell me."

"We've almost been there a year."

"Huh?"

"It's almost been a year, and everything's only gotten worse." You stayed silent. Not knowing what to say to him. While there was nothing that had physically hurt you yet, you felt the mind games it was trying to play. You heard your door slamming shut behind you and locking it all the time. You would set stuff down, and they would change locations even when you knew that it wasn't supposed to be there.

An example of that was when you were taking a shower and placing the towel you were going to use on the rack beside the shower. But once you stepped out, you noticed that it was gone. You knew for a fact that it was there when you got into the shower. Annoyed, you opened the closet that contained the towels and just used one of them. When you entered your room afterward, there was the towel. Sitting there neatly folded in the middle of your bed. You didn't even leave the bathroom when you put it on the rack. How the hell did it end up here? And it wasn't even that nicely folded when you found it! You tried to play it off and simply put the towel back.

It didn't help that you started seeing things. It was always out of the corner of your eye or in your mirror. One day when you were reading your textbook, you noticed something in your mirror. You'd begun to fear that the past would repeat itself before it looked like it was making an outline. You thought it was yours until you noticed that the stature was way different from your own. Just as soon as it appeared, it disappeared. You just thought you were going crazy. It sure as hell felt like it. You soon became paranoid whenever you were in the house. You did forget about it from time to time, but it always felt like you were never alone.

"Do you still see that boy since we've talked about it last?" Your brother clutched his fists as he took a breath.

"Last night. I went to get some water, and I saw him. But he wasn't staring at me. He was staring at YOUR door. But as soon as I saw him, I felt my whole body freeze, and I just looked at him. That's when he turned around and saw me. We just stared at one another for a few seconds before he made a mad dash at me. I managed to actually move my body and slammed the door behind me just in the nick of time. I couldn't lock my door, so I just sat against it. He started screaming and banging on the door with such force that you'd think it was an adult that was banging against it. I cried until I managed to fall asleep against the door." You cursed at yourself for not being able to hear your brother crying, and whatever that hellish child was screaming from the other side of your brother's door.

"I'm sorry. I should have been there. I'm your big (sibling). I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know that the attic is close to soundproof. Sure, you can still hear some things but not much." You felt terrible. You wanted to give him a key to your room, but like your room was any safer. Earlier, your father had tried to get a key copy, and no matter what he did, he couldn't open the door. He tried making another copy again, and it still didn't work. So giving him a key was out of the question. You tried to think of a way to make him feel at least a bit safe before coming up with an idea.

~~~

As your brother was saying goodbye and about to leave the car, you stopped him and took off your jacket.

"Here, whenever you feel scared, just put it on." Your brother hugged you tightly before putting on the jacket and running towards the school building entrance. His face turned into a big smile as he waved once more before going out of sight. You let out a sigh before driving towards the place where your knife was being held.

As you drove there, an uneasy feeling rose in your gut. It wasn't like some tummy ache but a genuine sense of worry and dread. You didn't know what to say or do, so you ignored it and continued driving. It was going fine for two seconds before the conversation with your brother came back to mind. You worried. He didn't deserve to get treated like an animal and have to defend himself in his own home. He was still so young and shouldn't have to worry about this.

You could feel your hands grip the steering wheel with such intensity that you could feel your heartbeat. It seemed like you couldn't get to the place fast enough as you almost sped down the roads.

Once you did reach the store, you tried your best to calm down in your car before entering. Everything looked the same as when you last visited. Some new things and some things stayed the same on the counters. Once you reached the register, the store owner was standing there waiting.

"Ah, nice to see you again! Excited to see what it looks like?" You laugh before looking at the knife that was placed on the counter. It was so unique. You've never seen anything like it before.

"Unique, huh? Turns out this bad boy is old as dirt. They stopped making this specific type of knife in 1832. It's amazing how it wasn't lost to time. However, I noticed that the person who had it made some modified improvements." Your eyebrows raised in curiosity. You were so amazed by the fact that it was so old. You were probably the last person in the world to own one! Well, at least you hoped you were. It would be a cool thing to brag about.

"Oh really? What are they?"

"Well, the first thing is that the person had carved their initials into it, ILG. Second, ILG seemed to have made the blade serrated."

"It wasn't before?"

"Not in the original design of the knife, no. What's got me confused is that this type of serration is more commonly used when trying to cut vegetables. But this knife wasn't made for that. So I'm guessing ILG made it serrated to maybe be a sort of hunting knife? Those aren't commonly serrated either. Because if it was used for that, then whatever meat ILG was cutting would have been torn to shreds."

"Hmm, what a weird individual."

"Certainly. Maybe you can look up the old owner of this knife at the library three blocks from here. That or go to maybe the town hall/courthouse? You could look up if anyone with ILG initials lived near or in your house during the time period 1800-1832."

"Sounds like a good idea. I have nothing better to do anyway." You pocket the knife before waving goodbye and walking out the door.

Sitting down in your car, you start the engine before driving off. ILG? What could each initial mean? There were so many options! I could be a boy or a girl or who even knows! You played some music in your car to match your happy mood as you drove down the road.

~~~

Once you reached the library, you noticed how huge it was. Thankfully the front desk area was near the front, so you walked up to the librarian and asked for help.

"What can I help you with, dear?"

"Oh, I was wondering if you happened to have any records that date back to the 1800s? I need it for a little project I'm doing."

"I believe we do. I'm not sure how far they date back but Let me show you!" She moves around the counter before walking towards the very back of the library. Books upon books lined the walls. Some are nicer than the others, and some look like they haven't been touched in years.

"Here we go! Right here are the records from those times you were asking about! They're all laminated, so there is no need to worry about ripping them. I hope you find what you're looking for!" She smiled sweetly before walking away, leaving you to do your own detective work.

You grabbed anything that looked of value to your search and plopped it on the table behind you. It felt like there was so much to go through, so you knew you would be here for a while. Looking at your phone, you saw the time.

'Okay, I still have a good few hours before I have to pick (B/N) up. HOPEFULLY, if I don't finish by then, I can take it home.' Sitting down, you opened the first book.

"Okay, so this is a little map area of what London used to be. No pictures, but hopefully, there are at least some coordinates that I can go by." You knew it would be tough, considering there are no pictures from that time, and the first photograph was only invented in 1826. Not to mention it wasn't even in London when it came around.

So many houses there were near your own. You looked at the book and organized it so that every family with the last name starting with the letter G was in one pile and the houses near you in another. You tried to connect the homes to the families but only got 4 matches out of the ordeal. The Garrettsons, the Greaterborns, the Gallons, and the Grossmans. All within the range of your house.

You looked at all their names, and none seemed to match the initials ILG. The Garrettsons died of a house fire before the knife was ever made, so they were out. The Greaterborns had no children, and neither of them had a name starting with an I. The Gallons didn't live near the house until 1873. The last family left to look at was the Grossmans.

Once you opened the book to look at their names and date of birth, you let out a yes in happiness once you found the person you were looking for. Right down to the same house and sharing the same room.

Isaac Lee Grossman.

You started to read whatever you could find on him. There wasn't much to today's standards, but what you could read, your heart bled for him a little. While like most of London, he did grow up in a poor household with an abusive mother and an alcoholic dad. He was also sent away at the mere age of 7 after killing his neighbor's cat. While at first, you were disgusted, but once you read about it more, you noticed that no 7-year-old would possess the strength to kill the cat like the article claimed it was killed.

Reading more, you noticed that while Isaac was away at boarding school, his father had beaten his mother to the point of death. Not long after, he was arrested and hung the next day. You tried to find out if he had any more siblings, but he seemed to be the only one. His mother must have been unable to give birth to more or simply didn't want anymore as they were still very poor before they had Isaac.

The following article was when it all went to hell.

When he returned to his childhood home after his parent's demise, he went down a path that no one should have ever gone down. The names of his victims that fell to his cruelty were on the front page of the old newspaper. They only found out about his horrendous deeds after he was already killed. According to the article, it was too gruesome to even detail. There was more at the bottom of the page on what they found in his home, but you decided that it was time to stop reading such wretched things.

After putting everything else away, you grabbed all the papers containing his name and story. You ask to check out all the laminated articles when heading to the front desk.

"Ah, the infamous Isaac Grossman. I remember learning about him when I was in school. An absolute lunatic that man was. What do you need him for?"

"Oh, I was working on a history essay for a college class. I want to try to find his house if it's still standing haha." You lie through your teeth. You don't need her to know that you actually live in his old house and don't even go to college anymore.

"That sounds like such an interesting essay! I wish you the best of luck!"

"Thank you! Have a good rest of your day!" You wave goodbye before walking out the door. You grab your phone again and check the time.

3:20

'SHIT! I'M GONNA BE LATE TO PICK UP (B/N)!" You book it to your car and place the documents in the passenger seat before quickly leaving the parking lot and going to your brother's school.

~~~

"I'm sorry for being 5 minutes late! I was at the library longer than I thought I was. Sorry, your gonna have to sit in the back seat today." Your brother only looked at you in confusion before jumping in the back seat.

"Since when do you go to the library?" You let out an offended gasp before laughing.

"Well, I was trying to figure out more on what the hell is going on at the house and who lived in it before us." Those words seemed to grab your brother's attention.

"Really?! Who lived there?! What was their name?! DID THEY HAVE A CHILD?!"

"Calm down! I still have a good few articles to read, so I promise you'll be the first to know, okay?" Your brother crossed his arms in the backseat before looking out the window.

"It should only take an hour to get home. Or take a nap, and you'll be there soon." Your brother slipped a slight smile on his face while looking out the window.

'I can't believe I'm so close to figuring out what the fuck is happening in my house. Hopefully, after I get this all figured out, I can find a way to protect my brother from this shit storm mom and dad has put us in.'

You loved your parents really, but in a part of your soul, you were angry with them. Angry how they could put you and your brother in such a horrible situation where it felt like you both were losing your minds. But you couldn't even tell if they knew what was going on around them. It felt like whenever they fought, they were in a trance-like state. Ignoring everything until they're screamed at. You couldn't put it together. After so many years of loving one another, why are they just now starting to fight? Money troubles? Frustrated cause the remodeling of the electricity and shit is taking longer than expected? You honestly didn't know.

The road to your house was long, and it was filled with twists and turns along an unpaved road. By some chance of luck, there weren't many potholes. The road was made of dirt as people did live away from the city but not as far away as you and your family did. The dirt road only lasted so long until you literally had to drive down a homemade path to your house. This part was the worse as there were bumps. If you weren't careful, you'd hit a try branch, or a wild animal as the grass surrounding the path was overgrown to the point where it would probably reach your waist. You truly hated this part of the path and would always celebrate when you finished it.

Today was different, though. You finally felt as if you had a lead on what was going on in your house. Not to mention how dedicated you were to figuring out what Isaac looks like. Maybe he looks like the kid that keeps haunting your brother? Perhaps some things in the house could also help you. Your parents put all the things that used to belong to the people who lived in the house in a spare storage closet. There wasn't much, as most of it probably decayed away as the years progressed, but it was worth looking at.

When you reached your house, it felt as if something was crushing your lungs. Even if you wanted to fall to the ground and heave, you tried to remain calm in order to not spook your brother. Thankfully, he got out of the car quickly and left to go inside, giving you enough time to grab the documents out of the passenger seat and walk inside the house. Your parents were in the living room while your father was watching TV and your mother seemed to be starting dinner. You waved hi to your mother before almost running up the stairs and trying to get the key out of your pocket. Every second is more agonizing than the last.

When you finally managed to open the door, you tossed the documents on the floor and collapsed with the door slamming shut behind you. As soon as it did, you could finally breathe normally again. It felt like your world was spinning as you lay on the floor, trying to gather your breath. Your whole body felt weak as water-filled your eyes. The floor was cold and unwelcoming as you lay there, staring underneath your bed.

You turn your body to face the documents, and thankfully, they were still how you left them. Despite your body's weakened state, you slowly got up and collected the papers before setting them down on the desk. After sitting down, you move the documents to cover the entire desk's surface before trying to find even a single picture of Isaac. You could only wonder what he looked like. With all the victims he had, he must have been quite charming. Or at least that would be the front he put up.

Knowing that you shared the same room with that psychopath rubbed you the wrong way. You had even sat on his decaying old bed when you first moved in, for christ's sake! Goosebumps would always cover up your arms every time you thought of him. Such a twisted individual used to live in the place you now call home.

Rummaging through the documents, you found one that had piqued your interest earlier. What they had found inside the house. Grabbing it, you began to read it. Pretty much basic things that were in a victorian household until your blood ran cold and you froze in shock and fear.

They also found a chair made of human bones and a homemade table where he tortured all his victims.

During this time is when it finally hits you. Your body shook as it was getting hard to breathe again. You touched that chair and table. You touched what that sick fuck had created. You felt dirty knowing it.

It was real.

Your mind felt scrambled as you stared at the floor. You weren't dreaming when it happened. You weren't losing your mind. You touched what was left of those people and touched where they lost their lives. You could only bury your hands in your hair as you felt like crying.

"(Y/N)! DINNERS READY!" You could hear your mother from outside the door. You didn't even know if you wanted to move. You were too shocked to try. But if you didn't, your brother and mother might get worried. Not wanting to scare your brother and disturb your mother, you slowly try to calm yourself down and gather the strength to leave your room and go downstairs.

Opening the door felt like a task given to Hercules. Your shaky hand could grab the doorknob slowly before gently pushing it open. You step out after holding the key and walk slowly down the stairs. Not caring if you left the door open but taking the key in case. But like every time you left that attic, the door slammed shut, and you could hear the locking coming from the inside of the door.

You gather the last bit of strength you have before entering the dining room and sitting on the seat next to your brother. The smell of your mother's cooking fills your nostrils and gives you a sense of calm.

"So, how was your day (B/N)?" Your brother looked at your mom smiling before telling her all the fun things he and his friend did during recess and what they did in the gym today. It was nice to see him so calm and relaxed after dealing with the horrors of the house.

"That's awesome, sweetie! What about you (Y/N)? What did you do today?" You force a smile before answering.

"Well, I actually went to pick up the knife I found! Then I went to the library to see if it belonged to anyone that used to live here since it has initials graved into it."

"Oh well,, I think it's so cool that you're trying to learn more about the house! What does it look like now that it's been restored?" You went to explain only to be rudely interrupted by your father.

"Who gives a damn what it looks like? It's just an old knife that I could probably make on my own. Nothing special about it." You furrowed your brows at your father's words.

"ACTUALLY, dad, you can't make this one. This style of knife stopped being produced in 1832. The person who had it before me literally custom-made it as well." You weren't really proud to have the knife now that you learned more about it, but something about your father dragging your mother down pissed you off.

"Oh, so now that you went to the library and learned more about the house, you think your smarter than me?" You could see the look in his eye. Anger. All because you snapped back at him for being a dick to your mother.

"I wasn't saying it, but if that's how you feel about me simply stating that it's a one-of-a-kind knife, then I guess I am." Your father slammed his fists on the table before pointing a finger at you.

"I don't know who you think you are talking to me like that in my own home! Be happy I'm putting a roof over your head and food on the table!" You simply did the same.

"Oh, you mean the bare fucking minimum? I only wanted to say you were wrong because of how you talked to mom! Ever since we've moved into this stupid fucking house, you've become a total jackass! Maybe your just too fucking dumb to see it!" Your father stood up from the table and stormed towards the front door before putting on his shoes and leaving the house. You could hear him starting the car and leaving the driveway. You look at your mom, who only looked down at the floor.

"I think it's best if we all go to bed. It's been a day, hmm?" You could tell your mother just wanted to be alone. You get up from the table before putting yours and your brother's plate in the sink. You could feel your brother grabbing your hand as you walked up the stairs together.

"Where do you think dad went?" The sound of your brother's voice rang through the quiet halls.

"I don't know, but he will be back, don't worry."

"Promise?"

"I promise." You hugged your brother goodnight before returning to the attic. Grabbing the key from your pocket, you gently open the door, ready to expect the worse when you could only let a quiet what the fuck.

The room was a complete disaster! All the documents were scattered across the room, and the things on your bed were thrown entirely into corners of the room. All that was left on your bed were your sheets. Taking a deep breath, you shut the door and try to clean what used to be your clean room. You tried not to show any emotion while cleaning up, but you were annoyed that your hard work of trying to keep the documents organized was entirely for nothing.

"I hate this fucking house."

#isaac grossman x reader #isaac lee grossman #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creeps #isaac #isaac grossman

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fandom-monium · 4 years

Text

Alive Together - Day 1

Summary: Welcome to the Monsterpocalypse. You’re a lone wanderer trying to survive. Until you meet Joel Dawson and Boy.

WC: 4k

Tag/Warnings: light themes of death and grief?? Cursing but minimal. Slow burn. Enemies to friends to lovers?

AN: MEET CUTE? NO. MEET UGLY.

(Entry 2#3#)

Hungry. I have nothing else to report today except that I, (Your Name), am starving. Grilled spiders and roasted centipedes are starting to get old.

I've mentioned it before and I'll do it again, but I miss home cooked meals. Even Dad's shoddy attempts at recreating Mom's recipes. The last time I think was… nevermind.

It hurts; I barely remember the last time I had dinner with Dad, much less Mom, flashes of the memories I have left blurring. Probably from the tears. I used to cry at the slightest thought of Mom and then Dad. Now my heart clenches whenever I try because I shouldn't have to try to remember my own family. Believe it or not, it’s progress.

Maybe it's my fault. I hadn't bothered to snag any mementos that reminded me of them before fleeing the bunker, like an album or something. There weren't many personal items that they'd given me, now that I think about it. Too much clutter, the Captain said.

Or maybe it's the lack of consistent stimulus to my brain. I can't read as much as I'd like to, mainly because it's too dangerous to be distracted (constant vigilance is an important virtue in this world, if you hadn’t noticed). Most books that I've stumbled across (literally, I tripped over a hill of hardcovers. Not fun. Very painful) were either tattered or worn beyond comprehension, destroyed by rain or monster attacks.

Speaking of, my stomach grumbled. I need to start hunting before it gets dark... and before I attract another monster to myself. Again.

-(Your Name) (Your Last Name)

Day 1 - First Impressions

You shut the journal as an ominous roar thunders in the distance. Heart in your throat, you’re already on your feet, shoving the book into your pack and gathering the rest of your things. Once you’re certain there’s no trace left of you on the roof, you gaze at the neighborhood below, shielding your eyes as you scan for signs of alerted monsters.

Greenery and ruins go on for miles, unperturbed.

It’s high noon, rays of sunlight seeping through the clouds and warming your exposed skin. A gust of wind brushes your face and hair, and you suppress a smile. It’s not everyday the weather is this nice, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d relish in it.

Good thing you do know better.

You trace your path to the hills. The town is a maze of torn down buildings and overgrowth, winding roads littered with abandoned houses and wrecked vehicles, and, of course, hidden monsters. There’s only a couple hours before nightfall, and you’re far from your destination.

Better start walking. You’ve wasted enough time.

You climb down the side of the dilapidated house, dropping to the ground with a thump. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the start of the apocalypse, it’s that residential areas harbored the most monsters, aside from the cities. Too many alcoves perfect for nesting. It’s safer away from the old world.

Safer, not safe.

You keep to the shadows, avoiding the open whenever you can despite the barren streets, darting between urban remnants. Your heart eventually settles as you scan your surroundings like anything and everything will pounce on you the second you let your guard down. By the time you cross the residential area and asphalt roads bleed into dry fields (from years of neglect, you somberly note), the sun has crept out from behind the clouds and the sky is clear blue.

You find a barn after hours of trudging through shrubs and your sore feet. It looms at the top of the hill leading to a dense forest, tall enough that as you step into its shadow it blocks out the sun. Walking closer, you tense as you scrutinize the place, eyes combing over the immediate vicinity.

Nothing. Nothing moves or breathes. You don’t see or hear a peep. Not from the barn or the woods beyond. It’s completely isolated from the nearby town, a perfect fort.

Or a nest.

You huff; shit like this has happened one too many times and you’d be a fool if you haven’t learnt your lesson by now. You pull out your javelin and approach with caution, leaves and grass crunching under your boots as you take in the chipped paint and boarded up windows, steadily making your way around the decrepit building. You frown at the clear deterioration, unable to spot any visible breaches.

Reaching the front of the barn, you gaze warily at the lone entrance. Tall doors ajar, old boards are still nailed across the slim gap or hanging precariously. As if someone or something pried them off, busted through.

In or out, you can’t tell.

For a moment, you weigh your options. You doubt the place had anything to offer, pillaged long before you stumbled upon it. Hell, there’s probably a monster nesting somewhere inside, or a bunch of monster eggs.

But you need food, supplies, rest. Are you willing to risk your life on the small chance this rickety barn can provide those things?

You stare down the the opening and it stares back, deceptively innocent. But it’s mocking you, you can hear it. Just daring you to walk away.

You shuffle on aching feet, making your clothes rub against your sweaty skin.

As if on cue, your stomach growls.

Groaning, you adjust your grip on the spear before ducking inside.

You let your eyes adjust to the dark interior. Light seeps through the rotted ceiling and cracks from the boarded windows, enough that you don’t need a flashlight to see the place is deserted. You glance around the huge room, javelin ready as you wait with bated breath, ears straining to hear over your pounding heartbeat.

Nothing. You don’t hear anything, except the trees rustling outside. Nothing shifts or darts out of sight. No signs of life, not even eggs (that you can see).

It doesn’t mean you're clear, but it’s a start.

Biting your lip, you take a careful step, and another and another, your eyes sweeping the room as you tread over straw and debris. You pause mid-step when you catch a pulley system attached to the ceiling. It’s dark, but you recognize its outline. Frowning, you trace its small, thin woven ropes as they split in different directions against the ceiling and walls, hitting and crossing the floor until they disappear under a thick layer of hay.

You raise your foot, gently kicking away the straw. You step back.

A net. A decent sized one by the width of the patch of hay.

You sigh, shoulders dropping in relief. If you hadn’t been cautious you’d never have noticed it.

You make your rounds quickly as you check for resources. At this point, it’s muscle memory for you as you move through the room with silent purpose, efficient and controlled. You dig through every storage unit, every container, pulling open cabinets and drawers, tearing through the floor with precision as you toss aside rusted tools and empty cans, a pit burning in your stomach. You snarl, throwing down another torn rag. It hits the floor with a thud.

You knew this would happen. You know the chances, but after all this time you still feel the crushing disappointment? You let out a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as you attempt to quell your frustration.

You can practically hear your mother snap at you. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, (Your Nickname), unless you want to die, her stern voice echoes. You unclench your teeth with a sigh.

It doesn’t take long, your anger simmering down with each exhale, and when you’re sure you’re calm enough, you resume your initial task: scavenging the barn. Is it a waste of time and energy? Yes. Will you find anything useful? Unlikely. Are you going to try anyway?

You head for the stairs to the hayloft. Even if there seems to be nothing left, you need to make sure.

A few minutes later, you're sifting through another trunk when a yelp cuts across the dusty air, followed by the shrill sound of grinding metal. You startle, hissing as you bang your head against the trunk lid. Pushing down the throbbing pain, you snatch your spear and clamber down the stairs, stumbling forward as your eyes darting around the dust drifting in the air. Something barks over you and you look up.

Huh. Did not expect that.

You were prepared for a snarling, limb crushing insect. Or maybe a triple jawed mammal. Even a mega-pig. You’ve seen enough of those and managed.

But a dog? More specifically, a dog caught in the net you barely avoided. It’s tangled in the ropes suspended just above your head, gently swaying. It seems it does not care for the swinging because it starts barking again, louder and more urgent than before.

“Ah, poor doggy,” you croon, lowering your weapon. To your surprise, the dog stops and jerks to face you, its dark eyes gleaming in the shadows. You eye the seemingly calm animal. “Now, how did you get here? Were you following me?”

The dog whines, squirming in a sad attempt to escape. Your lips quirk up. Aside from the occasional bird, you haven’t seen a normal animal in what feels like forever, much less a dog. Most regular animals were consumed by monsters or by people for food.

Food. You haven’t eaten.

You study the dog; its dark brown fur, sleek and short, its body small⎼almost medium sized, with pointed ears and a long snout. And by the way it looks at you, it has some intelligence.

Your stomach grumbles, and the creature cocks its head at you, ears forward.

Shit.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you grimace at the dog, adjusting your hold before aiming the tip at it. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I’m hungry, and you’re the first thing I’ve seen that hasn’t tried to kill me in a while.”

Which isn’t a lie. Hunting is crazy difficult these days. But you swallow as your eyes meet, its stare unwavering like you aren’t pointing a weapon at his little body. Just one motion and you could end its life painlessly (lucky bastard), but your knuckles go white and you grip falters. Why are you hesitating now?

The dog, as if sensing your battle, barks again, this time more composed than panicked, as if trying to communicate with you. You’re grateful you can’t speak Dog. It’s probably saying something like ‘No, you’re better than this’ or ‘Please don’t do this’ or⎼

“Put him down!”

Or that.

Dear Aimee,

Guess what?

I got a dog! And he’s the coolest, his name is Boy.

He saved my life from a giant frog in a pool who tried to eat me with his tongue, and then we hung out in his bus! Man, do we make a great team. We found out that we have a ton in common too. I feel like we can talk about anything.

You gotta see us out here; we’re like this iconic duo. I don’t know, feels like when we’re together, we’re unstoppable.

“Right, Boy? Boy?” Joel glances at his side, doing a double take. The dog’s gone. His shoulders slump, “Of course, the first friend I’ve made outside and he leaves me. Sounds about right.”

He didn’t think he could gain and lose a friend within the span of two days. This has to be some kind of record.

He jerks when he hears Boy’s faint barking, guiding him as he drags himself back to the old barn they just passed. For good reasons. The decaying barn looks like it’s in need of a new contractor and a paint job… or three. And an exterminator.

God, the surface is terrifying.

Gulping down his dread, Joel crouches to peer through the gaping hole in the wall. This must be where Boy came through. “Whatcha got there?”

The barking ceases, and so does Joel’s heart.

You stand in the dark like an apparition, back turned to him so he can’t make out your features. Your attention is fixed on the shadowed lump hanging over you, and while it’s dark and he doesn’t have a good vantage point, Joel’s mouth goes dry as he seeks out Boy.

Boy woofs again, and Joel’s heart drops. You step closer to the lump.

For a split second, he sees a flash of his mother’s face, her tears streaming down her cheeks.

He doesn’t think; no thoughts, head empty. Blood roars in his ears. His hands tremble. But he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the makeshift crossbow from his back as he scrambles under the opening.

“Put him down!”

He’s not entirely sure what he expects. He’s read enough comic books to understand the situation; the hero drops in to save damsel in distress then proceeds to demolish the bad guys. Technically, he has the upper-hand here. Right?

But realization slams into him. It knocks the air out of him, and he forgets to breathe.

He shouldn’t have barged in like an idiot. He isn’t a hero. He’s nothing like the superheroes in comics and movies and graphic novels. He doesn’t have super strength or speed or highly advanced tech and he sure as hell is not a genius.

What he does have: a freezing problem.

He’s already lost feeling in his hands, and he almost drops the weapon as you look over your shoulder at him.

On the other hand, you have a pretty clear idea before you face your captor (seeing him now, can you even consider him that?). With the apocalypse, governments crumbled with ease along with laws and morals, so it’d make sense for people to disregard them. You’ve met quite a few… characters, and you’ve chalked it up to these main categories; garbage thieves, sleazy scavengers, and shitty thugs.

In short, humans are selfish creatures. Prepare for the worst.

You’ve thrown down, fought dirty, bartered with them all and still managed to come out on top, the scars across your body a constant reminder. Nothing surprises you at this point.

A fumbling boy though? You mask your amusement, raising an eyebrow as you take him in. The guy, tall and disheveled, blocks the only exit out of this godforsaken place, his red jacket rumpled and dusty like he’s fallen one too many times. However, what nearly sends you is, as he steps further into the light, you bite your lip, his eyes round and small lips pressed together as the crossbow quakes in his hands.

Who let this puppy out of their sight?

“Listen, buddy,” You finally speak, making Joel flinch. Your eyes narrow as his fingers jerk on the trigger. That’s not good. “If you’re gonna point that thing at me, you better know how to use it.”

He sucks in air, clearing his throat as his eyes dart between Boy and you. He cringes when his voice comes out octaves higher than he expected, “Let Boy go.”

“’Boy’?” You glance up, your weapon still raised at the squirming little fellow. “Oh, you mean Dinner?”

“You were gonna eat him?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Depends how this goes.”

“Okay,” Joel swallows, a futile attempt to keep his tone even as nausea sprouts in him. You plan to eat Boy? How can someone eat something so cute? “Let him go, and we’ll leave you alone. How ‘bout that?”

Beads of sweat drip down his temple as his breaths come out shuddered. He’s not used to this; he’s gone from being the chef of his colony to making demands, negotiating with a possible psycho. He never trained for this! Well, he’d never been trained, period.

What if he says the wrong thing and sets you off, hurting Boy in the process? He might faint⎼no⎼he will faint. He doesn’t think his heart can handle losing more people… or animals. How is he supposed to save Boy? His fingers twitch against the trigger.

You don’t miss it.

“I don't know about that,” You reply, studying him. His hands tremble as they clutch the weapon. He may not be a scavenger or a thief, but that just makes him all the more unpredictable. Goons, you’d expect them to shoot first, ask questions later, but the fact this guy is making an effort to talk? You want to know his angle, his intentions.

Whether it’s good or bad.

“I’m hungry. It’s going to be dark soon, and Boy here,” You jerk your head at the canine, “was unlucky enough to fall into this ol’ trap.”

You watch, withholding a sneer as emotions and thoughts flit across Joel’s face like an open book. It seems a lightbulb goes off because he looks back at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “You want food? I have some in my backpack. If I give it to you, you let him go?”

He tries not to squirm, the little courage he has waning as your eyes bore into him.

“…Put the crossbow and the bag down. Slowly.”

“You too.” You tilt your head curiously as Joel stutters, “Your spear⎼I mean, if you could stop pointing it at my dog. Please.”

Your brows shoot up. Since the moment he entered⎼wait⎼floundered in here, he could not have made it more obvious that he has no idea what he’s doing. If it wasn’t the way he carried that exposed him, it was definitely his facial expressions, and if not his face, you can hear it trickle through the cracks in his voice. Yet despite how unfair the situation is for him, he’s trying to cover his terror. Failing miserably but trying. All for this cute, little doggy.

And he said please. You ignore the way it warmed you, his tone so…. genuine.

Manners, sincere or not, in the face of danger? You have to respect that.

“It’s a javelin, actually, but I agree to your terms.” Your grip slackens. He might be a wimp, but you have to give it to him. He’s got balls.

A flicker of relief crosses his face, and you both comply with your instructions. In spite of his obvious fear, you roll your eyes as he unzips his bag unnecessarily slower than you meant him to, throwing you a look.

On second thought, he’s either really brave or really stupid. It’s fifty-fifty at this point.

Joel pulls out an aluminum can. It glints in the light as he holds it up and tosses it to you. You catch it easily, inspecting it in your hands.

“Now will you let my dog go⎼Boy!” His scream tears through the barn.

You’re already composed. Uncoiling like a snake, you seize your spear and swing, all in one motion. He lunges for you, but you’re too far. He hits the ground.

Groaning in pain, he berates himself. He should have known; they had no reason to trust each other, so of course this stranger, this psycho, would betray him. He tries to brush it off, the false sense of security dissipating, the relief replaced with crushing betrayal and horror.

This is what the surface is like? His chest clenches. He can’t breath, but this isn’t like when he freezes up on a monster. At least, not those monsters. This is worse. So much worse.

The net rips, then a pained grunt. Joel shields his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears trail down his dirt-smudged cheeks. His heart thunders in his ears as he prepares for the inescapable sound of Boy’s pained yelps, the squelch of metal piercing flesh. He chokes down a sob.

He only knew Boy for less than two days, but within that timespan he bared his soul to the animal. He probably knew him better than his own colony. In the short time they had together, he became his best friend⎼

Okay, ew. What is licking him?

“Boy?” Joel groans, flinching away as the dog bombards him with wet kisses. “Wait, you’re not dead?”

You step into the light, javelin in hand as you snort, “Of course not. Did you think I was gonna kill him?”

Yes. Joel sits up and cradles Boy to his chest, gawking at you.

You glare at him, almost offended. “I’m not a monster.”

No. No you are not.

Decked in a faded blue jacket, you stand relaxed, spear perched over your shoulder (or a jav⎼java-something). Your eyes glint in the sunlight like steel, hard and piercing, with dark circles under them. You watch him with a slight frown. And like him, there’s smudges of dirt on your face and clothes, but you manage to make it look cool and purposeful.

You don’t look like a monster, but you kind of acted like one. Joel is conflicted.

He opens his mouth to respond, but he's not sure what to say in this situation, overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions that he’s still coming down from. Before he conjures an appropriate response (is there even one?), you're shouldering your backpack and slipping through the gap. Joel rushes to his feet. “Hey, wait!”

You continue up the hill, not bothering to turn to him as you purse your lips. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m ‘still here’! You held my dog hostage; kind of hard to get over,” he grumbles, panting as he trudges after you with Boy at his heels. You’re faster than you look. “So⎼uh⎼where you heading?”

“Away.”

He nods almost sage-like, wringing his hands together. “Cool, cool. So mysterious,” He pauses, inhaling deeply. His voice, now deeper and a bit more relaxed, comes in a rush as he asks, “Is there any chance we could go with you?”

You freeze, and Joel almost crashes into your back. You whirl around and suddenly you’re faced to face, but you’re too astonished by his question to care that he’s in your personal bubble.

His breathes come in heaves. His eyes are big and round, brown and bright with… hope?

It occurs to you that this guy, who hasn’t even given you his name, is a loser. A hopeful, naive loser.

And it’s for that reason you come to a decision⎼you’ll entertain him.

“Where are you going?”

“West,” Joel’s shoulders hunch, his voice self-assured as he adds, “to the coast.”

Yeah... fuck that.

You turn to walk away. “No.”

“Wait!”

You glower at him, stopping him in his tracks. “Dude, we got what we wanted. I got food, you got your dog. End of transaction.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, like he’s debating how far he can test you. He seems to think better of it as his shoulders sag and he caves, “Fine, I’ll head west without you. I can do it.” The last part he says more to himself before turning on his heel, starting in the direction opposite of you.

You nod. This is good, for the both of you. And safer, you tell yourself as you turn to begin your trek again. You’re two strangers in the apocalypse; you don’t know who he is, where he’s been, and, from your experience, it’s best to travel alone. It’s inconspicuous, efficient and⎼

Where the hell is he going?

You halt, squinting as you watch him hike away from the west coast. “Hey!”

He looks at you over his shoulder, his face surprised but expectant. Hopeful. He reminds you of a puppy being called over by their owner.

He thinks you’re caving into him.

Well, jokes on you, loser. You raise an eyebrow, “You know that’s not West, right?”

“Oh,” Joel’s eyes widen, clearing his throat. Boy woofs and he shoots him a withered look, altering his trajectory. “I knew that.”

“That’s not West either.”

He switches directions again.

You shake your head. “No.“

And again.

“Nope.”

Joel’s face reddens, unable to meet your eyes as he stops trying so he doesn’t further humiliate himself.

You make your way over to him, rolling your eyes. He seems to make you do that a lot. “Okay, how much food you got on you?”

“Enough to last me a week? Why⎼”

That’s all you needed to hear.

“Then it’s settled,” You decide, clapping him on the shoulder. He winces. “You share your rations with me, and I’ll help you get to the West coast.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback as you begin your trek once again, gesturing him to follow you. You feel his eyes on your back. “Really?”

“Really. You are a food source. Also I’m pretty sure you’d die before getting halfway.” You add, unabashed.

He frowns, unsure whether to be grateful or not. He decides on the latter. “Oh…thanks anyway?”

“You're really not from around here, are you?” You pause, looking back at him.

He scratches the back of his neck. “No. Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully. So free advice,” You, with a hand on your hip and tone clipped, gesture up and down at his⎼well⎼everything. “Try not to let anyone know you’re a newb. Might keep you alive.” With that, you start heading West, not bothering to see if he’s comprehended the note you bestowed on him.

Joel glances down at himself before trailing after you. “Good to know.”

AN: I want to make it clear: I would never eat a dog, you would never eat a dog, no one would ever eat. A. Dog. That was a joke for this part 1. I even wrote emphasis on your character’s hesitation. It’s just that this is the apocalypse, so it’s safe to assume that survivors are driven into corners, desperate and have to make some hard choices.

The end dialogue is reference to @teenwolffanclub-me TW rewrite bc i love it and them so if you like Dylan O’ Brien and Stiles pls read their shit. <333

This part is a slow starter, but I don’t want to rush this, your intro and your development. But, now that you’ve finally met, hopefully the rest won’t seem any slower than the beginning.

I’ve never wrote for a lone survivor kind of character before. I hope you enjoyed the intro nonetheless!

I think I’ll forgo the 7 parts idea, but that’s a goal.

Part 2 in progress.

Also, how to get a beta reader??

#joel dawson x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #joel dawson #love and monsters #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #joel dawson x you #joel dawson x y/n #love and monsters x reader #reader insert

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squishmallow36 · 2 years

Text

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-six

Word count: 2.6k

Tw: Dex blaming himself for the events of the previous chapter

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @stuff-is-way

On Ao3 or below the cut!

Standing a few metres away from home, I try to find the courage to cross to the front door.

Fitz whispers, “If you want, I can tell them.”

I shake my head.

“No.” It’s my fault.

“It’s my fault for hiding Keefe.”

“Well, Lovise getting hurt is mine, so don’t even try to play that card.”

“Fine then. You tell your parents about that. But I have to tell them about their store.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“It’s my fault Gisela did what she did.”

“She’d have--,” I pause, realizing the futility of my argument. “Honestly, I should just give up trying to debate against you.”

Thanks to Wonderboy, I’m hyper aware that how I say ‘against’ is another one of my little things I pronounce oddly.

He shrugs. “I already have.”

I untangle my fingers from his, and take a deep breath, attempting to find whatever bravery I have.

Slowly unlocking the door, I call, “Mom? I’ve got some news concerning the Neverseen.”

I am aware it’s too formal, Fitzroy, before you even start.

“One sec…” Mom replies from the living room. “Okay? What’s up?”

I see Lex, running and yelling at the top of his lungs, and Mom notices my hesitation.

Apparently Fitz does too, as he supplies, with no apparent regard for the triplets hearing things, “I’m not going to beat around the bush here. The Neverseen destroyed the store.”

I look at him, not sure how he just strung that sentence together.

Mom’s reaction is less intense than I’d have expected. “Well. You’re not playing a prank on me, right?”

I just now realize, “I should’ve taken pictures.”

“Pictures wouldn’t do it justice,” Fitz says, “But I’ll stay here and watch the triplets if you and Kesler want to go visit with Dex.”

“I’ll stay here,” I argue.

“No, you won’t,” he replies.

I refuse to look at him, because I know for a fact that I’d be much more persuaded by his argument if I did.

Mom goes to Dad’s office here, and I somehow register with a start that I should thank my lucky stars that Dad or anyone else weren’t at the store when it went down.

Together, we leap to Mysterium, and both Mom and Dad’s initial reaction to seeing it involves a lot of swear words.

And you know it has to be bad because the triplets can destroy almost everything and they can still bleep it out at the very least.

“You okay?” Mom asks, ruffling my hair.

Not really, but it’s fine. “Yeah.”

Dad’s reaction is much more like my own would be. “It looks like there was an explosion that radiated out from here,” he says, pointing at a corner.

“I know it was somewhere more toward the back, so most, if not all, of our inventory is in a toxic soup back there.”

“So maybe you don’t touch it then. Either of you,” Mom suggests.

“Yeah. There was something on fire near the caesium, because it turned violet for a little while.”

“I’m just glad you and Fitz weren’t hurt.” Mom gives me a one armed hug, pressing me into her side for just a moment. It’d have been nice if I wasn’t taller than her. I don’t want to be tall because tall means adult and adult means responsibility.

Don’t argue with my logic. I know it’s irrational.

“Lovise wasn’t quite so lucky. She’s fine, before you ask. Elwin said she’s just got a couple of bruises and scratches.”

Mom says, completely deadpan, “You had to involve Elwin.”

“Fitz texted him.”

“Ah yes. Throw him under the bus.”

Meanwhile, Dad’s train of thought has driven off its tracks as mine so often does, murmuring to himself, “Why would they have done this? You stay at home, and they know you’re part of the collective, so it can’t be against you personally...right?”

I also talk to myself quite often, so I reply, “It’s probably mostly shock value. Although I’d argue how much of a shock they can cause after so many different demonstrations of their ability to strike anywhere at any time. Gisela also wants to know where Keefe is, so she must’ve had this set up in case we didn’t give him to her.”

“How many times do we have to say that we can’t control him as much as she can’t?” Mom wonders.

“You can’t reason with unreasonable people, Jules.”

“You don’t have to remind me.”

We stand there in silence for the next few minutes. It feels like hours.

I know they’re just trying to be strong, and pretend that everything’s fine. I think I am too, a little bit.

I can’t help myself from trying to figure out a simple solution of how to fix all of this, even though I know you can’t magically bring a building back up from the ground and pretend like it never went down.

Mom breaks the silence by saying, “I think I should go save Fitz.”

“I’ll come with you. Unless you still need me here.”

Dad replies, “No. I should go hail Uncle Grady or Aunt Edaline to borrow a few gnomes to help with the cleanup and then start on the plans of Slurps and Burps take two. Maybe finding a less flammable material would be a good place to start.”

“Everything’s flammable if you try hard enough.”

“I believe I was the one who taught you that.”

“Just checking. Gotta make sure you remember.”

With that, we leap home, and I grab Fitz before leaping to the Healing Centre to visit Lovise.

And maybe him, if the triplets broke him. Just kidding. Mostly.

When I see her, I say, creatively, “Hey.”

“I didn’t know I was allowed visitors yet.”

Elwin notices me and starts preparing for the worst. Like I’m the usual bringer of destruction. Although I guess that has been my pattern recently.

“Don’t worry, Elwin. I’m just here to check on your patient.”

“She is my patient no longer. She’s going to escape soon enough so I’m going to release her into your care. Just try not to get into too much more trouble today or tomorrow.”

Fitz snorts lightly. “Like that’ll happen.”

I take a second to consider the thought that decided to reveal itself.

“I don’t know if this counts, but I do have a bit of a request. Just because I can’t exactly do it myself.”

“What now?” Elwin sighs.

I give him a crumpled piece of paper with my calculations from earlier, complete with hand dragging across paper pencil smudges and all.

“Sorry about my handwriting, but I was thinking this could be a Keefe solution. You know, the next time he pops up out of nowhere.”

He takes a few seconds before suggesting, “How about this? I can’t read this and I know how finicky alchemy is, so you can borrow my lab if you want.”

“Really?” I ask, knowing full well that I wouldn’t let others get their grubby little paws on mine.

“Yeah. Just make sure I have all of your ingredients before you start. I don’t know if I’ll have everything.”

“Thanks,” I say, already beginning to search his beautifully maintained shelves of ingredients.

I see a nearly empty bottle of Cwiofyr, a rare mineral made from lightning striking lava that happens to be highly explosive, and mutter, “Easiest way to destroy a ceiling.”

That greatly distresses Fitz.

I get a decent amount down my list, and I can’t seem to find the mancas, which is the active ingredient.

“Elwin, do you know off the top of your head if you have mancas?”

“Considering I’ve never heard of it, I’d say probably not. I’m going to regret this, but we’ve got a storeroom for all of the alchemy sessions here.”

I smile. “Yes, yes you are.”

Once you let me in there, you’re going to have to drag me back out whether you like it or not.

We get there, and I’d like to make a clarification. I’m never leaving because I’m never going to find anything in this place.

I mean, there’s only four rows of shelves, with actual chemicals being on opposite ends. Organic chemicals might be on the left side, but, at the same time, it could also be household products, while the right has your classic chemicals.

And there is no way I can understand how anyone can find anything here, apart from memorizing the shelves, on purpose or by accident.

I have to search slowly, vial of chemical by vial of chemical. There’s one just labelled, “Poison,” which would be descriptive if half the stuff in here couldn’t kill you. Easily.

Fitz, however, finds the mancas with zero difficulty.

How did you do that?

I take it and add it to a small tray so I can carry things back with me. Figuring it’d be easier to not bounce back and forth from the Healing Centre, I ask Fitz, “Can you find the forswigian? A one-tenth molar solution, if possible.”

“I don’t know what that means but I’ll try.”

It’s a mere few seconds before he asks, “Is this it?”

And it is. Down to the molarity, which wasn’t his doing but I still choose to be irritated.

I decide that I’m not going to find anything, and he seems to have a gift for this for some unknown reason. I find some space on my scratch paper and write down a list of everything I still need before giving it to him.

Two minutes. That’s how long it takes him to find a half dozen ingredients.

In this mess.

“Here you go,” he says, shifting around bottles in the tray to make space for the hlosian.

“How do you do this?” I have to ask.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not that hard.”

A wave of anger surfaces from his total apathy, because for some magical reason he can find his way around this place without any trouble.

Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t been conditioned with my Dad’s organization system.

Nah. It’s magic.

“You don’t understand how messed up the organization system here is.”

“Oh. Okay...”

“I’m going to make you find things if we have to do this again in the future. You don’t get a choice,” I snap.

“Not that bad of a punishment.”

Honestly, it’s more of a punishment for me. I get to stand here, useless, while he does stuff I should be able to do.

I turn and walk back to the Healing Centre without another word.

It’s definitely fun trying to balance a dozen bottles in a tiny tray without letting them make too much noise because glass clinking against glass is loud.

For the next hour or two-ish, my brain melts out of my ears, trying to take extra caution to not break anything of Elwin’s.

It doesn’t help that Fitz is watching the entire time. Distracting me, per usual.

And there’s no nice way to tell him to go away and let me focus.

Finally, cringing as I wait to see if the mixture reacts negatively to the forswigian, I announce, tentatively, “It hasn’t exploded, so I think we’re good. Probably. Maybe.”

Clearly concerned about something, Fitz says, “Cool…”

“And it hasn’t melted through the glass, which is a major bonus.”

“That’s a bonus? Were you going to give it to Keefe if it did?”

“There’s more things at the store that are perfectly safe to consume, assuming you take the proper amounts, but that’s how everything works. Even water. Don’t drink several litres in a short amount of time. It won’t be pretty. Like a third of the store is in clear plastic or something similar because they enjoy burning through glass.”

“Is this one of those?”

“Nah. That’s how you tell you did it just wrong enough to not blow a hole in the roof. At least in its normal concentration.”

“Alchemy safety standards are...very interesting.”

Even I can hear the sarcasm in that sentence. So you know it’s piled on thick.

“Yeah, well, you’ve been saved by alchemy more than once. So shut up.”

“Fair point,” he concedes.

A few seconds pass before I figure, “We should leave Elwin to let him do whatever he wants. You know, since I’m done and I have no clue why you’re still here.”

He shrugs, mouth forming a word before I get a telepathic message.

Am I not allowed to watch my boyfriend work?

I flush bright red on instinct, trying to piece myself back together.

“Elwin,” my voice cracks, although I’m not sure if this is because I can’t function or because it hates me. “Thanks again for letting me work here. We’re going to get going now, if you don’t mind getting rid of us. Bye!”

Voice slightly muffled by a closed office door, Elwin calls, “See you later!”

Fitz and I both walk backwards out the door, waving, even though he isn’t looking.

Slowly, we start to make our way down to the Leapmaster, mostly because we, or at least, I don’t want to go home quite yet.

The door swings shut, and Fitz asks, “You okay? But don’t just say yes because that’s how your brain was programmed.”

“You okay?”

“I mean, now, I’m worried about how you just blatantly dodged my question, but overall, not terrible.”

“What do you want me to say, then?”

“Maybe I want you to acknowledge that you’ve thrown yourself into this project for the past few hours to distract yourself from actually thinking about things. I can tell.”

“Fitzy, that’s just how I process things.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ignoring them until you don’t have to deal with them anymore?”

Suddenly defensive, I ask, “Remind me. Who made you a psychologist?”

He sighs, lacing his fingers with mine. “That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about my--about you.”

He should really know by now to not let my imagination run wild like this.

With what was he going to end that sentence? Was he going to call me his boyfriend again? Was it just the fact that there could maybe be someone listening? Or something else?

Did I do something to make him backtrack?

“And I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to worry.”

“You say that like I can stop voluntarily. It doesn’t work like that. I’ve lived with my Dad and his ‘no reason to worry’ crap for my entire life. I would know.”

“And you say all of that like I’m not in the exact same boat. Godzilla was the one that threatened you.”

“We already dealt with that. Earlier today.”

“I refuse to believe that you’ve completely processed that.”

“This is entirely off topic but you should add the way you say process to your list.”

“I don’t have a list!”

He gives me a look.

“At least in the physical realm.”

“Knew it. But the whole Godzilla thing is a conversation for another time. Because I don’t think we can loiter here too much longer.”

Standing under the Leapmaster, I say, “I guess it is. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it. See you tomorrow?”

“If not sooner.”

Fitz leans over, leaving the lightest brush of his lips against my cheek.

Unsurprisingly, my brain short circuits once again, and while I’m trying to fix it, he leaps away, smirking.

Although I may have imagined it.

I have to take a good thirty seconds before I stop feeling like I’ve just had to do a presentation for Elvin history with a half-finished slide deck because I forgot what day it was.

I’d rather not fade away because I was too gay to function.

When I do get home, I smile, knowing that everything’s back to how it should be.

By which I mean lots of screaming and an immortal ice yeti that for some stars forsaken reason won’t get shattered into a million pieces.

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic

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