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atlabeth · 7 months

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all of me | luke castellan

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?

wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.

warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit

princess!reader and knight!luke

yeah

and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together

YEAH

luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom

his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can

shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king

you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life

you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with

most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants

and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him

so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!!

even when you’re not free tbh

sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them

whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now

and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention

after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness”

and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess

“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?”

“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.”

“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.”

“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”

You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.”

“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.”

you do. obviously.

You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever

“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.

“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it.

“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.”

“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.”

His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”

You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.”

Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties.

Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.

so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps

You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind.

luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other.

your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again.

spoons aren’t that bad, you think

you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.

luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you

suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.

Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right.

he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling.

You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.

His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about.

Standing beside you as an equal.

Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you.

for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has.

and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER

your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on

your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning

May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you.

and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol

you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights!

typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons

But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her.

(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other)

(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”)

(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart)

but we haven’t gotten to the knight part.

because it’s a bit sad.

what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but

May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s.

(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.)

(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)

rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up.

the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”.

Luke… does not take it well

besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had

she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing.

he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.

You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this.

Because you know he would. He always does.

When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day.

Luke becomes a ward of the royal family.

There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever.

Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no.

You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side.

Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.

Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being.

but that’s a topic for another day.

May’s death changes your relationship.

She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight.

she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom.

But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes.

He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him.

Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him.

You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend.

That’s all he needs.

And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything.

(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.)

So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda.

You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics.

Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal.

You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.

You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.

But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it.

You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on.

Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day.

Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together.

Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him.

Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.

It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last.

(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)

And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.

You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again.

Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony.

Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard.

Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly.

You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking.

“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”

“I do,” Luke says.

“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?”

Your breathing stills for the slightest moment.

Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.”

The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court.

Luke is assigned solely to your protection.

And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours.

As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.

He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him.

Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal.

But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down.

“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.”

“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.”

“...I’d like that,” Luke says.

“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?”

“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says.

So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever.

He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what.

You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.”

Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.”

You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.”

You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened.

“Did you know?”

He frowns. “Know what?”

“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…”

“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.”

That throws you off. “What?”

“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.”

“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.”

“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.”

“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—”

“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly.

You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.”

You frown. “How do you know?”

“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.”

“You were just sworn in!” you protest.

“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.”

You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.”

“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.

and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.

your knight.

good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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nyctoaerah · 2 months

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⋆♱⋆REGRETS

Content warnings: Angst, Death, Foul Language, Toxic behaviors, Unhealthy Relationships.

Pairings: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Reader

“Are you still thinking about her?”

Obanai questioned, leaning into the oak tree with his hands behind his head as his heterochromic eyes dissected every flicker of emotion on the wind hashira’s face, searching for clues hidden beneath the mask of indifference that sanemi had.

Sanemi didn’t answer at first, opting to shred a blade of grass between his calloused fingers. The muscles in his jaw tensed as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

“No i’m not.”

He avoided Obanai's searching gaze, staring up into the leaves instead as they rustled gently in the breeze.

Obanai gave him a look.

The serpent hashira knew how sanemi’s mind works. He was probably thinking about you again, and fuck was he right, Sanemi was thinking about you.

He was thinking of you like some lovesick idiot, he was thinking of your smile, the way you’d bark insults back at him whenever he’s in the mood to be grumpy.

The way you feel, and the sweet sighs you’d breathe into his skin.

He missed how well you knew him, able to read his moods with just a glance.

And damn, did he wonder what would happen if he didn’t acted on impulse back then?

What if instead of breaking up with you, and telling you to just leave the corps, he supported your decision?

Would things be different? Would the two of you still be together?

Would he be able to marry you like he had always wanted to?

“I know you’re thinking about her, Shinazugawa.” Obanai interrupted his wishful thinkings bluntly. Sanemi shot him an irritated glance but didn’t deny it.

There was no point in arguing — Obanai could see right through him anyways.

“Thinking of what could have been if you didn’t split up, yeah? Putting a ring on her finger?”

“Tch. Mind your own business,” he grunted.

“So what if i am thinking about her? It doesn’t matter.” sanemi answered bluntly, making obanai sigh.

“You should move on. it’s been a year and a half.” Obanai replied.

“It’s pathetic to still yearn for a girl. When you wwre the one who broke up with her in the first place.”

“I know it’s pathetic. You don’t have to remind me.”

Sanemi scowled.

He hated it—the reminder that he was the one who had broken your heart, the one who had walked away.

The mere mention of you was like a blade, pristine yet serrated; It was a very sensitive topic for sanemi.

Whenever you were the topic, Sanemi grew sensitive—He disliked discussing about you, because it hurts and left him feeling ashamed.

He loathed this conversation, this topic that dug into the wounds he thought had scabbed over, and he was ashamed that he was the one who broke your heart, when now he was the one pining and in pain.

Why the fuck did the both of you have to be so stubborn?

All he wanted was to protect you—to shield you from the bloodshed and gore he faced daily as a demon slayer—yet your determination to join and spill demon guts for vengeance for your family was as immovable as a mountain.

Time and again he pleaded with you, begged you to reconsider, to choose another path, any path but that one. But you wouldn’t bend.

It hurts him whenever he remembers that you and two had something special back then.

Every time he returned home injured from a mission, you would gently clean and dress his wounds with a tender touch, wanting nothing more than to ease his pain.

Your days were spent caring for the handful of stray dogs he had rescued from the streets, nursing them back to health alongside your own beloved pets and your relationship with him was basically all sunshines and rainbows.

But that was until a demon attacked and slaughtered your family.

Your gentleness turned hard as stone. Gone was the refuge you once shared; in its place grew thorns of bitterness, vengefulness, and distrust. All the love you had poured into caring for sanemi and your home seemed wasted and all you cared about was getting revenge.

And your relationship became toxic, always arguing and all.

Though, one argument made him snap — when you said something hurtful about him. He knew that he shouldn’t have risen to the bait, shouldn’t have let his temper get the best of him, but damn you just know how to push his buttons.

And before he knew what he was doing, the words were spewing from his mouth like vomit—words he could never take back, words meant to wound as deeply as you’d wounded him, and in the heat of the moment, he ended up storming out and dumping you on the spot, so that you’d quit the corps because he knew you wouldn’t want to see his face anymore or some shit like that.

Sanemi ran both hands roughly through his white hair in stress, tugging slightly in frustration as the events replayed in his mind. The hurtful words you had said were burned into his memory.

He let out a groan and leaned back against the tree, eyes closed as he tried to forget the look on your face when he left.

But no matter what he did, he just couldn’t escape the guilt.

And the fact that obanai just kept mentioning you was just adding salt into the wound.

“If you miss her so bad, why don’t you just send her a letter and apologize?” Obanai asked casually, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Lower your pride a little. It wouldn’t kill you.” He added.

“Trust me, I’ve always wanted to apologize.” Sanemi huffed out gruffly.

“Damn it... I look like such a dramatic fool.” He grumbled to himself, cringing as he recalled his rash actions.

“Then why don’t you send her a letter? You know where to find her...” Obanai said with an arched brow, as if the solution was obvious.

“I don’t wanna bother her.” Sanemi muttered, already dreading your possible reaction if he tried to reach out, he feared that you’d just tell him to fuck off.

But maybe Obanai was right... He really needed to apologize.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀/𝐍: i was listening to xxxx by loonie when i was writing this dawg, it fits the theme & atmosphere of this fic... Same ground by kitchie nadal fits this aswell.

(this is totally not inspired by my previous rs)

#⌞𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 夜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬📝 ⌝#kny sanemi #kny x you #sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #kny x y/n #demon slayer sanemi #demon slayer x you #sanemi angst #hashira

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idkfitememate · 9 months

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can I request a tiger!creator meeting Paimon or Nahida, and just being so cute with them like tiger!creator just stares at them for a minute and is like: “these babies so adorable must feed” basically the tiger momma senses are being tenfold like these are their Cubs alongside Alhaitham and Kaveh 🥺

Aether & Nahida Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Tiger Reader x Sumeru (with Aether & Paimon!!)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 527

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : fluff

The three men stared at you as you curled around Nahida and Paimon.

“Alhaitham what do?-“

“Nothing Traveler. Just let them have this.”

Kaveh had no shame as he slithered into a crack that wasn’t taken up by your new babies.

Now it was only Traveler and Alhaitham who stood.

Aether could hear the muffled cries of Paimon, screaming at him to get her out, but Nahida was quiet. Taking a harder look at her, the blonde realized she had fallen asleep in your fur.

Just like Kaveh, you had just literally passed out as soon as he hit your backside.

You moved around, making sure not to jostle Nahida or Kaveh, and moved Paimon into your front most paws, before gently licking at her head.

“AHHHHH!! GET IT OFF PAIMON!!!” The floating child screeched.

Aether only chuckled.

“They must think your emergency food as well, Paimon.” He mused. The fairy only looked incredulously at her travel buddy.

Then you huffed and also looked up incredulously. You pressed a paw to your chest and stared with the most offended face a Tiger cold make. Aether flinched while Alhaitham smirked a little. He turned away to hide his smile, however.

“They don’t think Paimon is emergency food.” Paimon said smugly. Alhaitham finally spoke up.

“They’re grooming you.”

“Huh?”

“Grooming. Most commonly Rishboland Tigers only ever groom their cubs or other members of their ambushes as shows of affection and care. To be groomed by an our Rishboland Tiger is them essentially welcoming them to our strike. In common terms, they see you as their child, or someone they wish to care for.” As Alhathim finished his monologue, the duo stared at him before Aether made a noise of discontent.

“How come they don’t want to groom me?” He has a childish frown on his face which made Paimon laugh.

“Perhaps if you go up to them, they will take you in as well?” Alhaitham mused.

“Fine then.” Aether then walked towards you, only to be swatted away by a paw.

“WHAT THE-“

“Ah. It seems they’ve taken offense to your claims of Paimon being “emergency food”, Traveler.” Aether just stood in silence as Paimon’s laughed only grew in volume.

Alhaitham simply shook his head at the sight of you immediately going back to grooming Paimon. He walked over and sat down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You stopped grooming the child to look at him, then you looked at Aether. He flinched before you chuffed. Hesitantly he walked over, but you showed no hostility.

He walked to the other side of you and lied his body next to you, curling into your side. After you heard his breaths slow, you lay you head down next to the passed out and snoring Paimon.

You smiled as you closed your eyes with your little strike surrounding you.

…

… Nahida glanced up at you with a small twinkle in her eyes.

“It seems the Irminsul truly was right. It is an honor to have you back, my Creator.”

And with that, she pushed her face into your plush fur, and fell into a well deserved slumber.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I feel like Nahida would know almost immediately, because if in every other story we act like the original creator and stuff on top of looking like them, all it’d take is a quick look at the Irminsul and this wack ass “iMpOsTeR” to see who’s who. Anyway Tiger!Creator best mother no cap ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱-

#anon <3 #asks <3 #Tiger!Creator

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akutasoda · 6 months

Note

Can I request Sunday with Noelle reader?

Reader will guide every guest and tell them everything she knew in Penacony, since her job is tour guide.

But in reality, she want to be a knight in Xianzhou Luofu but failed every test dispite she work so hard on it.

Reader is from Luofu, but travel abroad to study life more and try to gain some experiences.

Sorry if my request is weird…

atleast someone believes in me

synopsis - after rejection from the cloud knights you seek a change of pace but there's someone who sees your potential

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based on noelle, reader is from the xianzhou, fluff, slight angst, rejection?, wc - 1.6k

a/n: your request isn't weird at all!

taglist - @teddirika

failure hits hard for most people, especially when it's somebody's first attempt at achieving their dream. failure becomes a deterrent, planting the idea that their dreams can no longer be accomplished - which can be untrue but since they would be too focused on their failure they can no longer focus on how to improve. people who experience failure often seek comfort in settling for something easy, something that they won't fail at.

you were born and raised on the xianzhou luofu. you grew up alongside the cloud knights and would regularly watch them on patrol and sometimes would even sneak out to watch them fight a wandering mara-struck. your eager curiousity did not go unnoticed by your guardian, who managed to catch hold of somebody willing to grant you some basic training. it boosted your dedication to becoming a cloud knight and eventually you took your training into your own hands.

day in and day out, you would spend toiling over your techniques and ensuring they were perfect. you had a deadline, your birthday was soon approaching and as soon as that passed you would be allowed to join the cloud knights if you're skills passed the test. admittedly you became so wrapped up in your training that you often would forget basic needs but you were determined to become a cloud knight.

your birthday could not have come any sooner. the day after, you were straight out of bed and headed down to enlist into the cloud knights - a few people you knew had recently also enlisted and passed the tests, they told you how you would have no issue and you believed them. when you got there, they accepted your initial application and told you that if you passed the physical trials you would be welcomed into the cloud knights. all those nights, days and evenings had lead up to this very moment. the moment where all your training was meant to pay off and help you achieve your dreams. was... was meant to.

you don't know why or how but you were denied, you were told you're skills just weren't what they were looking for but nothing more. rejection hit you immediately. it tore out your dreams and replaced them with a sense of hopelessness - how could you spend so much of your life dedicated to becoming a cloud knight just to be rejected, surely that meant you couldn't achieve anything right? you returned home with dry tear streaks that were soon replaced when you shut the door.

some may say you overreacted but the rejection really hit you hard. you felt ashamed to still be living on the luofu and desperately searched for elsewhere, you needed a fresh start is what you told yourself. brief words had been overheard about a world called penacony, where dreams can come true. even though your dream was to become a cloud knight, you doubted that could become true and so maybe you could settle for something simpler.

you gathered what little money you had and left for penacony in shame. when you arrived you immediately inquired with the hotel lobby staff about any potential jobs that could be gifted to you - you made sure to specify that they could be anything. one of the workers left for a brief moment before returning and telling you that there was a few jobs available inside the dreamscape. you didn't really care what the job was you just wanted something to distract you from the pain of your rejection from the cloud knights.

unfortunately the only job available was a tour guide. you weren't native to penacony and this was infact your first time even in penacony but it seemed like an opportunity, you could bury yourself in mounds of research into penacony to become a tour guide and not think about the cloud knights. after a long time with bargaining with various officials, you managed to land a job as a tour guide - the only thing you had to do was research all of the dreamscape before your first ever shift.

your habit for hard work had led you to spend hours upon hours staring at the maps of penacony and its dreamscape, reading all of it's history and eventually becoming acquainted with some locals who told you some tips. on your very first shift, you were paired with a young silver haired girl who introduced herself as firefly, she was a fellow tour guide and offered to oversee your first shift to make sure you were good to go. she was a sweet young girl and even complimented your knowledge of penacony even as a newcomer to the land of dreams.

due to your extensive studies, you becane extremely well versed in the knowledge of penacony and it's history. very quickly, more and more newcomers would request your tours as word spread very quickly about your tours. this time as a tour guide served well in gaining experiences and opportunities to learn something new, those that took your tours often would become very chatty. you met all kinds of people from all other the galaxy, except they all had similar reasons for turning to penacony.

you still thought about the cloud knights from time to time. you'd watch the bloodhounds from time to time and they vaguely reminded you of the knights, not by much but enough to drag up unpleasant memories. sometimes you did wonder that if you trained a little bit harder you could retake the test and become a cloud knight - however the idea of failing again would only put a greater shame on you and you didn't want that.

the dreamscape become a comfort to you, the job as a tour guide was alot more fun than anticipated and you enjoyed meeting people from all walks of life. unfortunately, you had now spent a long time in the dreamscape and started seeing the truth beyond golden hours flashing lights and slot machines. one of your tours had been ended abruptly when the person you were helping around slipped into a deeper pocket of the dream - you soon followed just in time.

you were met with familiar yet unfamiliar scenery but what quickly caught your attention was you're tourist being attacked by some kind of walking television and robotic dog. you didn't really think about your actions and instead opted to charge straight ahead to protect the tourist. out of pure habit, you still carried some kind of weapon from your cloud knight training days and it finally payed off - you made quick work of the weird figures and made sure to check on your tourist before looking for a way out.

you wandered the distorted halls with your guest, always keeping them out of harms way but it seemed your saviour came in the form if a certain silver haired halovian. sunday had heard about a tour guide and their tourist being captured into a deeper pocket of the dreamscape, and because it was a more dangerous zone filled with all sorts of memes he figured it would be best if he went himself - it would also help to silence the wanderers.

what sunday wasn't expecting was a trail of dead meme's which eventually lead him to you and your tourist. he was rather impressed a tour guide such as yourself was so capable with a weapon. he made quick work of escorting the two of you into golden hour and sorted out the toruist before turning to you, 'you appear to be quite well versed in combat for a tour guide' he started.

before you had a chance to answer he continued, 'your skills would befit the bloodhounds more no?' you simply shook your head and replied 'my skills are merely acts of self defense nothing more'. sunday frowned slightly before taking a quick glance around golden hour, he turned back to you with a proposition

'it may be optimistic of me but could i offer you some more work? payed of course.' you knew what he was getting at and you sighed before responding

'with all due respect mr.sunday, i don't have an interest in attempting a carer for fighting' you looked down slightly to avoid his gaze which seemed practically suffocating.

'that's a shame then, a tour guide with your skills could be effective in helping those curious enough to get lost in the corrupt parts of the dreamscape', he smiled before continuing

'it shall still be an offer if you wish to accept, but for now may i extend my personal thank you for keeping a paying visitor safe'

sunday's offer really toiled with you for a while. the cloud knights back on the luofu rejected your skills but now somebody was praising them - you felt more inclined to believe the cloud knights. but maybe this was what you needed, it was a fresh start and you were being offered it so sunday wouldn't turn you down right? it would appear not as when you showed up at his office he seemed like he had been expecting you because truth be told, sunday was enamored by your willingness to help those you do and more importantly you're skills in combat.

he had read your employee file, it had all your basic information and when he found out you originated from the xianzhou, he couldn't help but wonder why the cloud knights hadn't scouted out your exceptional skills. however, if they weren't going to help you utilise your skills, he would.

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #sunday x reader

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desperate-gay · 1 year

Note

can i request you write a leah fic based on the song constellations by jade lemac

Constellations

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

Leah Williamson has a reputation for sleeping around. People use more harsh terms to describe her, but that feels wrong since you know her. Well, you don’t know her; you play alongside her for the England national team and Arsenal. Once in a while, you both have a conversation, but nothing too deep.

Although, recently, the blonde has been approaching you more and more. Whether it was on the pitch during training, in the locker room, or even at team get-togethers.

You’d think she’d want to get to know more about you before flirting with you constantly, but hey, she’s got that reputation for a reason. She sees what she wants, and she goes for what she wants, and most of the time, she gets what she wants.

Now, of course, you find Leah attractive; anyone with eyes should. That doesn’t mean you’re just going to bend over for her. You never liked the idea of having one-night stands with one of your teammates and going back to training the next day like nothing happened. You also never liked the idea of sleeping around with anyone. It’s exhausting to invite someone into your bed just so they can fuck you and leave the same night.

You have always wanted a meaningful, loving relationship. Sure, you had your fair share in the past, but those obviously all ended up in the dump. None of which made you feel exhilarated. And the fact that the player on the team now wants to get into your pants is quite annoying.

Keira and Lucy always warn Leah to stay away from you. You’re the sunshine of the group that never fails to make someone smile. They didn’t want her to take that spark away from you. Alessia and Ella always glare at the defender’s attempts to flirt with you. You three are considered the gigglers of the lionesses. You guys are usually never seen without one another unless you are with your favorite person in the whole world, Esme Morgan.

If you aren’t with Tooney or Lessi, you are most definitely with the smiley gal. The two of you have the brightest smiles and most infectious laughs ever. Both are the kindest beings anyone could meet on this earth, plus, to mention, you two basically grew up together.

So when Esme found out what was happening, her usual chippy personality turned bitter. She knows Leah’s intentions, and she doesn’t want that anywhere near you. People may call her particularly protective over you, but she just doesn’t want to see you hurt is all.

When you noticed her attitude switch whenever the flirtatious blonde approached you, you assured her there was nothing to worry about.

—

Practice has just ended, so everyone is getting changed in the locker room. You are pulling your shirt over your head when you hear someone approaching you.

“You looked quite fit out there, darling.”

You whip around and see the one person who has enough confidence to say something like that with no hesitation.

“Thank you.” You say, looking down bashfully, never really knowing how to take compliments. The taller girl notices the red that starts to appear at the tip of your ears and smirks to herself.

She places her right hand on your hip before leaning in close to your ear. “You always look fit, my dear.” She whispers before moving your body to the side to walk past you. Your eyes follow her path with your mouth slightly open.

Ella, Alessia, Lucy, and Esme all watch the interaction happen with clenched jaws and piercing eyes. Keira doesn’t have the heart to be angry at her best friend, but she does sigh and look down to continue packing her kit. Leah can feel multiple eyes trailing her, but she doesn’t let it bother her. Overall, it’s your choice what happens between you two, not theirs.

Once you’re done with changing, Esme offers you a ride home so she can hang out and steal your ice cream. You, of course, accept her offer, wanting to spend more time with your best friend. When you get into her car, you plug in your phone to the aux cord and play your guy’s playlist in the background.

“Besides stealing all of my food, what do you plan on doing when we get to my home?”

She hums as a sign she’s trying to think of an answer. “I’m not sure yet; I haven’t gotten that far.” You scoff at her teasing smile and quickly return it.

As you pull into the parking space in front of your loft, you notice a man standing on concrete with a bouquet of multiple different flowers, looking confused. You and Esme step out of the car, and you make your way towards the stranger.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you need help with anything?” The young man gives a clumsy smile and nods his head.

“You don’t by chance know a ughh, Y/n Y/l/n around here, do you?”

"Umm, that, ironically, would be me.” Your face scrunches up in confusion, while Esme’s does the same. The man gently hands you the flowers, saying someone sent them to you.

“You just have to sign here, please, to let the company know you’ve received your flowers in perfect condition.” He exaggerates as you fake solute, asking the blonde next to you to hold the flowers. You sign the paper and say a quick goodbye before moving up a few steps to your front door to unlock it.

“Who in the world sent flowers to you?” She teases, taking her shoes off and handing you the flowers. You place your nose right over the flowers to smell them.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” All you do is shrug your shoulders before moving around to look for a vase. You set the flowers in the center of the table and go to join Esme on the sofa. She grabs the remote and puts on Modern Family. You look over and notice a sour expression on her face. Reaching over, you poke her cheek to make her look over at you. “What’s up, Ez?”

“I bet I know who sent the flowers.” She grumbles with her arms crossed, still looking at the television. After thinking about it briefly, you finally understand who she’s referring to. She wouldn’t have that familiar scowl for just anybody.

“Hey, even if it was her, there’s no need to worry about anything. She sleeps around, and that’s something I don’t like, remember?” She turns her head towards you and has a semi-sad expression.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I see the way you blush around her.” Her voice is soft, along with her facial features. You reach over and grab her hand to squeeze it.

“I know you don’t, and I love that about you. Yes, I find Leah attractive, but she doesn’t want anything serious, and I’m not putting myself in that situation.” Esme nods in understanding, and you both turn your attention back to the show in comfortable silence.

—

“Did you see the gift I sent you?”

You’re on the pitch stretching before training starts when Leah comes over to you. You sigh and stand up to turn towards her. "Yes, I did; they were beautiful, but I’m still trying to figure out why I got them.”

“Because a beautiful girl deserves beautiful things.” She smiles without breaking eye contact. You playfully roll your eyes at her and bend down to touch your toes.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

It’s silent for a minute before the taller girl blurts, “Go on a date with me tonight.”

You quickly straighten your posture and give her all your attention. Your eyebrows furrowed at the demand. “Pardon?”

“Let me take you out tonight. I know just the place.” She notices your hesitation, so she places a hand on your waist. “C’mon, dinner and maybe some sex?”

You scoff at her forward statement and start to walk away. “No.”

“Fine, just sex.” She follows after you. No one is near you two, so no one can hear what’s happening. You stop and turn around.

“How about just dinner?”

“Ehhhh.”

“Then no.”

You move to continue to walk away before her hand reaches out to grip your wrist. “Okay, okay. Just dinner.”

—

It turns out you and Leah only live about two blocks from one another, so when it’s time to pick you up, she decides to walk over. The place she has made reservations for is right across the street from your place. Leah let you know beforehand that the place you’ll be eating at isn’t too fancy, so just dress casually.

You’re finishing up the last minor touches on your makeup when you hear a knock at your door. Quickly, you grab your purse, phone, and keys and rush to open the door. Leah looks over, smiling, and offers you her hand to take once you lock the door. She’s wearing a white dress shirt along with tan baggy jeans, while you wear black leggings with a light blue tank top.

The date overall goes great. When you get seated, Leah being the gentlewoman she is, pulls out your seat for you and pushes you in. You both get to know each other better and laugh at the random stories you tell each other.

Your arm is hooked on Leah’s as you both laugh and walk towards your home. You stop right before you reach your stairs and look at her with a smile. “I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.” The keys dangle in your hand, and then Leah reaches and steals them for you.

“Let me help you with your flowers.” She smiles smugly, keeping the keys behind her shoulder.

“No, we just met tonight.”

“We have known each other for years. We play for the same teams.” Your faces are close together as you giggle.

“We might play together, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Tonight was our first step in actually getting to know one another.”

“C’mon.” She leans even closer, trying to tempt you. Your eyes wander at her face before you pull back slightly.

“You can’t come up.” You say with all the willpower you have left. She sure knows how to get a girl to swoon. “You have to woo me first.”

You dramatically flip your hair, making the taller girl laugh at your antics. Her laughter dies down, and she places her hand on the small of your back to pull you closer. “I can definitely woo you if you let me up.”

You laugh again and press your hands to her chest. “I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.” You whisper while looking her in the eyes. Pecking her cheek, you take quick action to grab your keys and run up the stairs. Once you unlock your door, you turn your attention to the starstruck girl. “Goodnight, Leah.”

—

Surprisingly, Leah asks you on a second date the day after. Esme doesn’t like the sound of it, but she can’t control what you do, so she just accepts it.

Once again, Leah picks you up from your house, and you both walk to the unknown destination of your date. She said it’s about a 20-minute walk before getting you. On arrival, you see a bright neon sign saying arcade.

“You didn’t.” You excitedly say and smile at the blonde.

“Are you ready to get your butt beat?”

Through the date, you both challenge each other in multiple games like air hockey, racing games, etc. So when it comes down to your tiebreaker, Leah challenges you in one last game of basketball. You both put the tokens in and press the button to play against each other and once the buzzer tells you to go, you both start making shots left and right. Leah looks over and grabs one of your basketballs to palm it and hold it in the air.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You look at the score and see she has a few more points than you. The taller girl smirks as you try to reach for the ball that's in her hand. With her other free hand, she pushes against your back to pull you closer to her, and she leans down, pressing her lips against yours. You’re shocked at the quick action, but you stop trying for the ball that’s above your head and wrap your arms around her neck.

You pull away when the whistle signals the game is done. Both of your guy’s eyes remain on the other’s lips, still a little hazed from the kiss.

“I win.” She whispers, making you wonder if she's talking about the game or you.

—

The next date is a simple stroll downtown, visiting all the little stores. Your hands stay interlocked while walking up and down the streets.

In one of the buildings you go into, you see a photo booth and beg Leah to go with you. After a few seconds of you pleading, she finally says yes and lets you drag her to the curtain-covered box. The first photo you take is just one of you guys smiling at the camera. The second one is both of you sticking your tongues out and crossing your eyes. The third is a little blurry because of the two of you laughing and moving to hunch over. Then the fourth and final photo contains both of you gazing at each other with loving looks in your eyes. Soon after the last photo is taken, you both lean in for a feverish kiss.

You grab the photo strip from the outside of the booth and smile at the photos. You start to complain that there’s only one strip, but she insists you take it, knowing you want it the most.

After an hour or two more of exploring the town, she walks you up your stairs to your front door. Your hands softly grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a sweet kiss. When you pull away, she chases after your lips with a whine, causing you to giggle. You place one final peck on her lips and whisper, “Goodnight, Leah.”

—

Looking in the mirror, you put on your earrings and step back to look at your dress. It’s a scarlet red dress that hugs your body just right. The back of it cuts low to the lower part of your back, and the front shows the perfect amount of cleavage. The necklace that hangs from your neck fits perfectly with it. Smoothing out the fabric, you hear the familiar rhythm of the knock on your door.

Leah stands there in all her glory in a gray, sleeveless pantsuit. The outfit shows off her toned arms and collarbones perfectly. You let out a breath you don’t know you’re holding, and take her awaiting hand. She presses a kiss to your fingertips and says, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You blush at the name and also compliment her back. She walks you towards an unfamiliar car and opens the passenger door for you.

“I figured we should drive this time. I’m sure it won’t be comfortable walking in those shoes.” She points at your short heels. It makes you realize that for all of your dates, you always walked to your destination. You smile at her consideration for your comfort and get in the car. While she drives, she places her hand on your knee and rubs her thumb up and down.

When she pulls up to the fancy restaurant, she rushes to your side of the car and opens the door for you, holding her other hand out for you to grab to help you get out. Walking in, you hear soft orchestral music playing through the building, along with people’s conversations merging and the echoing of silverware clinking together. It wasn’t loud; it was quite relaxing. Leah and you approach the podium with a girl standing behind it with a smile on her face. Leah’s hand stays at the small of your back to guide you and also just to feel you.

“Hello, what can I help you with tonight?” The host asks in a sweet tone.

“Hi, I made a reservation.”

“Sure! Under what name would that be?” The girl taps on the touch screen in front of her to check for the name.

“Leah Williamson.” The blonde nods softly at the host.

“Great! Now if you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you to your seats.” Leah smiles and keeps her hand on your back as you follow the girl. She pulls out your chair for you, just like she did on your first date. “The waiter will be here to take your orders shortly.” The host smiles at the two of you and makes her way back to the front.

You both ordered your desired dishes along with some dessert to share. You’re both laughing when a random girl comes over and places her hand on Leah’s shoulder, making you frown at the action. The blonde turns over and sees a semi-familiar face.

“Hey Leah, I haven’t seen you since that crazy night at the club.” The random girl continues to rub one of her hands up and down Leah’s shoulder as if you weren’t there. Leah just politely smiles and greets her. The girl tries to continue a conversation when you pick up two of your empty dishes and hand them to her.

“Thank you so much; the food was amazing.” Leah turns her head at you with a smile as the random girl gives you a strange look, but walks away with the dishes anyway. You grab your glass of wine and slowly sip it while staring at the walking figure, but you’re interrupted by the laughter coming from across the table.

“What was that?” She chuckles, and you give her a knowing look. She shakes her head with a soft smile displayed on her lips.

—

Once Leah pulls up to the sidewalk of your home, she walks you up to your door and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not very long, but she backs away and places a kiss on your knuckles. The blonde moves down one stair and turns to walk away, but gets stopped by your hand continuing to grip hers. Her eyes meet yours as you nod your head towards the house.

“Why don’t you come in for a drink? Their wine wasn’t all that good.” Leah nods her head and smiles while you drag her inside.

You both were already tipsy from the restaurant, so adding more alcohol to your systems is like adding fuel to a fire. Hands are roaming each other’s bodies whenever you can, and you both feel just as fuzzy-headed. Music plays on your surround system around the house while both of you find comfortable positions across from each other on the couch, and Leah leans over and brushes a string of hair behind your ear.

“You look absolutely stunnin’ right now. Cheeks all rosy, hair a little messy. So beautiful.” She whispers toward the end because she’s too busy leaning in. Her lips lightly brush against yours, allowing you to pull away if needed. You maneuver yourself forward, pressing your lips together with more force, which makes the blonde smile slightly. Hands fall to your waist and start to pull you in even closer.

“You’re really good at that.” You breathlessly whisper, keeping your hands on her shoulders as she keeps hers on your hips. Your eyes flutter close when the defender moves her nose to touch yours, teasing her lips at the side of your mouth.

“I know I am.” That cocky personality comes back stronger than ever, so before you can scold her, she slams her lips back on yours and glides her tongue into your mouth, causing you to gasp, which allows her to push her tongue even further. She bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it, tugging it toward her before letting it go with a pop. You kiss down her jawline, eventually even further to her neck. Her hands find a place on your ass and guide you to start rocking your hips a little, encouraging you to keep sucking at her sweet spot.

She abruptly stands up with her hands remaining in their initial place, holding you up with her with your legs wrapped around her waist. “Where’s your bedroom?” She asks, breath ghosting of your face.

“Down the hall, last door on the right.”

You attach your lips back to hers as she blindly makes her way to your bedroom, trying not to crash into anything. Once she steps foot into the room, her foot kicks your door closed, and she pins you against it. The music can still be heard from the speakers, making the mood even hotter. The taste of wine can still be found in both of your mouths as you make out against the wooden door.

“How are you so good-looking all the time?” Leah mutters, moving over to your bed and placing you on the soft sheets.

“How are you so good-looking all the time?” You counter back, sitting up so you're face-to-face with the other girl. Her finger slips under one of the straps of your dress, slowly pulling it down while peppering kisses down your shoulder. She repeats the action on the opposite side and drags your dress down your body, still trailing kisses along with it. Once it’s off, she throws it somewhere on the floor and takes quick action to unclip your strapless bra. “It’s unfair that you’re still dressed and I’m not.”

“Well, you’re the one who’s about to get fucked into this mattress.” She rasps, plunging her lips to your neck to start sucking and biting at the flesh. Your hips buck into hers when she finds the perfect spot and nibbles on it. Her hands make work of your breasts, making you jump at the cold feeling of her rings on your warmed-up skin.

Finally, her fingers make it to the waistband of your pants, and she pulls them down as her lips kiss right above the fabric as it’s getting dragged away. Your breath hitches in anticipation as she flings the fabric to meet your dress on the floor.

“Let me take this off, at least.” Your fingers fiddle with the buttons on her top and begin to undo them. Her eyes gaze at yours as you look up at her.

“You look so good under me, baby.” Her voice lowers almost to the point where you can’t hear her. She shrugs off her top and steps out of her pants, so she is only in her underwear. The palms of her hands meet the inner of your thighs, spreading them so she can get a better look. “You’re soaking wet. Did I do this to you?”

You nod your head with a whine, wanting the blonde to do something to relieve your needs.

“Words, doll.”

“Yes, yes, you did this to me, and I need you to do something about it. Please.”

She chuckles at your desperation and kisses your stomach, then your thighs, and finally the place you need her the most. Her tongue draws a line up your slit before sucking on your clit. Your hips buck subconsciously, but Leah puts an end to it when her hands reach your waist and force you down onto the bed. You bite your lip so you don’t make a sound. This makes the blonde stop and raise her head.

“Don’t bite your lip. I want to hear exactly how I make you feel.” She states seductively, returning to her position, lapping up your arousal, and sucking on your bud. The sound of your moans bouncing off the walls, along with music from the living room, sparks the girl up more. Your hand digs into her hair, and your hips start to rock against her face when she moves faster, allowing the buildup in the pit of your stomach to get bigger. Your moans become more frequent and a little louder, showing Leah that you’re close. She pulls away for a split second to whisper, “Cum for me, doll.”

Your back arches further and further off the bed the closer you get; eventually, the coil snaps, making your body shutter and muscles tense, allowing your body to return to its first resting position. Leah’s tongue slowly continues to place soft licks, helping you get all the way through your orgasm. Your hand makes its way to her cheek and urges her to move up by you. Her chin glistens in your arousal, and she drags her thumb over it to wipe it off, then places her thumb in her mouth.

“You taste so sweet.” Your arms wrap around her neck to pull her down and kiss her. As her tongue makes its way into your mouth, you can taste the mixture of alcohol and you.

Right away, her fingertips drag down your stomach and then down to your heat. Testing the waters, she rubs her fingers over your clit which causes your legs to twitch since you’re still a little sensitive.

“Are you going to continue being my good girl?”

“Yes.”

Her smirk widens at your obedience, and as a reward, her fingers dip into your dripping hole, making you gasp at the sensation. Without warning, she plunges two digits into you, chuckling at your whimpers and moans. Her lips make their way back to yours, swallowing all of your little noises.

After a minute or two, her fingers brush against your g-spot and her lips start sucking on your pulse point, leaving a hickey. Your moans grow louder at the repeating strokes that hit your spot perfectly. Compared to your orgasm, this one feels way more intense.

“I can feel you tighten around my fingers, darling. You’re already gonna cum again?”

This time you can’t respond; you’re too breathless, and the whines spilling out of your mouth constantly don’t give you any time to answer her. Your vision becomes spotty, and you feel wetness covering the insides of your thighs. Your orgasm crashes over you but lasts longer than anyone you’ve ever had.

Without your knowledge, Leah pulls away and looks at you with her jaw hanging open. When you finally come down from your high, you meet her gaze with a questioning look. A smug smile takes over her features, which makes you even more confused.

“You soaked the sheets and my arm, doll.”

Your eyes trail down, and you see a big wet patch on the mattress and the blonde's arm soaked. Feeling embarrassed, you cover your face with your hands and fall back against the pillows with a groan. Leah wipes her arm against the sheet you will definitely be washing later.

Leah lays beside you and grabs your wrists to move them from your face. She leans over and pecks your forehead, your chin, both of your cheeks, your nose, and then finally, your lips. Her eyes light up when she sees you smile at her gesture. You’re both lying together for a few minutes before Leah stands up and grabs her shirt.

“What are you doing?” You sit up with your arms holding you.

“Uhh, I’ve got a couple of errands to run in the morning, so I’ve gotta get home.” Her fingers work at one of the buttons of her shirt, and she keeps her head down.

You sigh before saying, “I know you have a reputation for sleeping around, and I know it’s a mess, but you don’t need to hide. You can let me in. So you can either get into bed at the count of three or you can walk out that door and never talk to me again.”

Her fingers stop buttoning up her shirt, and she finally looks at you.

“Three.”

Still in the same spot.

“Two.”

Only moves one step forward.

“One.” You pull your comforter down, patting the spot she was previously in. She quickly takes her top off and lays down next to you. You turn to your side so Leah can wrap her arms around you. Her nose nuzzles into your neck, and she hears you mumble, “I knew you had a soft side.”

The taller girl realizes she enjoys having a body next to her, especially one she’s grown to really like, but then it hits her. She’s never done this. This isn’t who she is. Multiple thoughts race through her head while you sleep soundly right next to her. She slowly removes her arms, making sure you don’t stir, which, luckily for her, you don’t. Quickly, she stands up, gets dressed, and rushes out the door.

—

The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you up. You smile and turn around, only to be met with empty sheets. Sitting up, you look on the ground and see all of Leah’s clothes missing.

The feeling of embarrassment floods your veins as you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. You feel stupid that you actually believed Leah would fall for you. You feel used, as if she just took you on those dates just to have sex with you. And you feel ashamed. Ashamed, you didn’t listen to any of the warnings thrown your way by your best friends.

Tears begin to trail down your cheeks before you even realize it. I guess you’re just not lovable for the Leah Williamson.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson smut #woso x reader #woso smut #leah williamson #woso #lgbtq

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hinakazino · 6 months

Text

Royal Reverse Harem Plot Idea???

A little idea popped into my head...

Imagine being transferred into your favorite novel as the villainess. You'd only seen a couple official cover arts of her, and she shares the same name whilst also looking similar to you. So it is just completely crazy but not uncalled for, that no one can tell anything's changed.

You're betrothed to Gojo Satoru, crown prince of the Jujutsu Empire but of course he hates your guts. It's not like you can even blame him because from what you read. The villainess had basically bullied the female lead every chance she got and even tried to have her killed off.

You know that the villainess dies in the original plot, but you don't want to. What do you do then? You do your very best to right your wrongs and end up gaining an air of respect after a month or so. Alongside that, you try to stay on Satoru's good side out of everything because in the end of the plot he is the one who gets you killed.

(He hires Toji to take you out of course.) Nothing seems to be working however, so you soon decide on a divorce. As the villainess you do come from a high ranking noble family anyway so it shouldn't be hard to stay alive.

OR, that is what you thought before you realized another issue that soon became evident a year later. Despite all your effort to avoid all the 2nd male leads and important characters to the plot, it was like they were drawn to you.

At first you were fine with it because it meant that you wouldn't be forced into marriage so quickly. Your noble family unfortunately was big on arranged marriages but your "affairs" seemed to throw them off guard.

The big issue was that eventually these important characters grew an obsessive, almost Yandere-like love for you. Which you only began to notice too late, and rejection was not available.

The worst of them all? Sukuna Ryomen. Emperor of the Empire of Curses, Gojo Satoru's sworn enemy, and the only other being on this planet that can be called his equal.

You had to deal with others too of course, everyone seemed to have their own red flags. Choso would consistently stalk you, Toji didn't like the idea of you going outside, Yuki always wanted to be near you, Gojo was beginning to guilt trip you, Shoko believed you'd be safest with her, and Geto had attempted to kidnap you. The rest? You weren't fully sure.

All you did know was that out of everyone, Sukuna Ryomen was clearly the craziest because he succeeded in kidnapping you. Now you're known as the damsel in distress stolen to another kingdom, with a reward amount higher than anyone can count issued by the crown prince himself.

Next: 1

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #yuki tsukumo #choso kamo #gojo x reader #Toji x reader #yuki x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk reverse harem #hinakazino thoughts

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celaenaeiln · 11 months

Note

What do you think of Slade and Dick’s relationship ok the comics? Dick somewhat killed his first child, was friends with his second and mentored his third so idk about you but I’d feel like Slade would have some pretty twisted feelings towards him by then even without the whole apprenticeship thing

It's weird? I can't really pin it down because Slade and Dick are kinda everything. They're enemies, allies, friends, as well as mentor and student. Dick is the one that Slade is closest to in the entire family. They're so close that Bruce actually called Dick to ask him for information about Slade.

Deathstroke (1991) Issue #7

"Dick--I need information. Tell me about Deathstroke. I remembered you fought against him several times...as well as fighting alongside him recently."

Bruce...do you need that calming tea because you're mad at criminals or because you're mad that Dick had dealings with Deathstroke?

Anyways, after Bruce hangs up on Dick, guess who Dick calls?

Deathstroke (1991) Issue #7

Wintergreen!

Who also lies to Adeline about someone calling Slade because she's mad at him.

Deathstroke (1991) Issue #7

So Dick and Slade have a tight mutual enemies but also friends relationship. And this was after joey died.

After Grant died, Slade was furious at the Titans and hated them for a while

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #2

He then uses this hate to plan and trap the Titans into the way of a specialized bomb but the titans escape. Afterwards comes the Judas Contract where he tries to kill all of them but fails.

However between Grant's death and the formation of Nightwing in Judas contract there's a very important scene between Dick and Slade. Even though Slade hates the Titans and blames from for Grant's passing, he still respects Dick an incredible amount. A year after Grant dies, Slade seeks out Dick individually.

Deathstroke (2016) Issue #19

So basically he finds out about Rose and the first thing he does is dump her on Dick. This ties into Dick's comic Renegade era because Dick as Robin has trained Rose when she was a kid in the rights and wrongs and how to be a good person but Slade as usual has the conscience of a goldfish so he changed his mind after he grew a little more separated after Grant's death. He now decided to push Rose into his ways.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #112

Instead of morals, he now wants Dick to teach her skills, tactics, and fighting techniques because even at his maddest moments, Slade has always respected Dick.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #80

The change from Slade asking Dick to teach Rose only his moral to teaching her his everything is a testament to how much Dick has grown from Robin to Nightwing. One of the most formidable villains ever is asking his long time enemy to teach his daughter. That's-there aren't enough words to express the weight of these scenes.

So Slade heavily respects Dick. He actually respects him the most out of the family despite what happened with Grant.

He respects Dick so much he was absolutely furious at Dick that he got himself shot and got amnesia.

How do we know this? It came out against his fight with Batman.

Batman Secret Files Issue #3

Wait, who's the great man that lost everything?

Batman Secret Files Issue #3

"You're going to got try and kidnap somebody you think I care about. So get to it. What do you think you can offer me? Why would I say yes?"

Batman Secret Files Issue #3

HE'S SO MAD THAT JOKER EXPLOITED HIS CARE FOR DICK AND HE'S SUPER MAD AT DICK AND BRUCE FOR HAVING THE JOKER FORCE HIS HAND.

He got himself involved so he could control the damage without seeming like he cares too much because he has a reputation to upkeep.

Slade really cares about Dick.

That's not to say he doesn't hate Dick at times. When Dick turned his daughter away from him, he got so furious he made a society of supervillains just to bomb Bludhaven. His rage was explosive (haha). He even used Damian to get to Dick.

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #12

Talia gets it.

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #12

But at this point Dick's just like seriously? screw off.

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #12

At this point Dick literally doesn't give a shit-he's just so done with everything.

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #12

Going back to post Grant's death, Slade still kinda sees himself as a mentor or like an older friend to Dick.

After the JL failed to contain Deathstroke, the Titans had to step in and Slade's thoughts about Dick are so funny

Deathstroke (1991) Issue #14

More than hating each other, it's more like Slade is a nuisance to Dick and he really only acts out when he thinks Dick's taken away one of his kids. They have a really long and complex history where their stories are deeply interwoven with each other. Dick has influenced the pivotal moments of Slade's life and Slade has done the same to Dick.

This moment from their team up in the Titans (1999) comic explains their dynamic best

Titans (1999) Issue #10

Dick keeps all of Slade's stuff to study but treats him with a healthy amount of suspicion while still helping him out and being on opposite sides.

Titans (1999) Issue #10

lol

Dick is sort of responsible for Grant's death, yes, but also Dick is Joey's best friend, Rose's second parent, allies with Wintergree, and helped save Adeline. He's involved with Slade's entire family.

Yeah Slade's feelings toward Dick are pretty confusing but I guess you can think of Slade's relationship with him as Slade's hero confidant. He also feels some sort of responsibility over Dick which is weird. Their history is too tight and closely connected for Slade to ever permanently hate Dick but his bouts of rage mainly come from him feeling betrayed by Dick.

Overall, Slade just wants Dick's attention, and Dick for the most part just wants Slade to stop pestering him.

#dick grayson #nightwing #slade wilson #deathstroke #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!#bruce wayne #batman #dc titans #grant wilson

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honestsycrets · 1 year

Text

brujería i: inhuman | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ pairing | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ type | doubleshot, explicit

❛ summary | since taking over his bio-father's company, miguel just can't seem to sleep. there may be someone behind that though. or, a succubus wants miguel.

❛ tags | some sacrilege, succubus!reader, ceo!miguel, sex-dreams, sleepy sex, dub!con: miguel is asleep during many encounters, exhibitionism outside of a church, f!reader, some mention of blood and wounds, au with deviations from canon, slight hurt miguel, slight caretaking peter, excessive bodily fluids, some mindgames.

❛ request fulfilled | Was wondering if i could request ceo!miguel x succubus! reader? whether he’s spider-man is completely up to you but reader is basically like a demon hiding in plain sight, toying and feeding on the sexual energy of people. maybe she’s a new hire and then she visits him in his dreams or smth. miguel becomes her target and he finds himself falling in love with her and wanting her so much it brings out an intense carnal desire inside him (1/2)

❛ sy's notes | i based some of miguel's sleep paralysis on my own experience. the catholic religious connotations are not very heavy, but if you're sensitive to that sort of thing, i'd probably skip this one.

Miguel O’Hara was never a superstitious man.

He grew up in a deeply Catholic home thick with superstition. His grandmother’s rosary still sat on his desk, enveloped in a spherical glass alongside stacks of organized paperwork on the latest drug his not-so-dearly held biological father left before he kicked it. Corruption was fiercely rooted, a fact that Miguel was not so subtle about. The papers he rifled through that morning revealed the stupidest account of Brujería among reports of Rapture.

“Brujería-- what bullshit,” he murmured as he dropped a stack of papers back onto the oak desk. He glanced at the glass tabletop and found his reflection therein. His eyes, crinkled at the edges, carried the reflection of countless days of his dark exhaustion. “Si no es una cosa es otra.”

“Miguel?”

“What, Lyla?” Miguel threw a glare at the ceiling at the AI that sang at him. She seemed far too happy with her position as the resident terror of his new office. New was an overstatement. It was his father’s before he croaked, reflected in some of his tacky taste in the things Miguel had immediately thrown out. Why else would it have a picturesque, but grandiose view of Nueva York but for a great view of the people he was destroying? The bright windows also did a bang-up job of burning his eyes

“The psychiatrist is here,” she chirped. “Are you going to tell her about your wet dreams?”

The flutters that danced over his skin at night at the strike of three. Foreign warmth caressed his skin like a warm blanket over his skin. His heart rate raced, and pleasure burrowed under his skin. It never failed that Miguel would wake to a rush of pleasure, cum painting his sheets sticky, his heart soaring into his throat. With such pleasure, why would he tell anyone but Lyla about his pathetic, ruined state that came night after night?

Miguel waved his hand in dismissal. He instead checked the chunky watch on his wrist. You're just on time. He appreciates a punctual professional given how much work he had to complete. In lieu of the report of spiritual abuse, he picks up the pile of sexual misconduct. That was a more pressing matter to address. The actual victims were far more important than some bruto’s complaint of ojos based on a huevo in some water. He should send these idiots to any middle schooler’s chemistry class. The bruja who was coming to visit him today could hardly be a source of concern.

“Why would I do that? Let her in. You listen in and I’ll unplug you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lyla teased, but he knew she was right. Lyla was one of his only friends and by far the one he spent the most time with. She has patience for him. He slips his reading glasses out of their holster as the lock on his office door hisses apart, welcoming in the strange woman whose name he could never find but in Stone’s personal records. A chroí, my love, like Stone could love anyone else but himself.

“Dr. O’Hara.”

Miguel slipped the lenses on. Not only was the woman before him, not the sort of hippy-dippy woman he expected, but you were… familiar. Oh, so familiar. He’s never met you before. Yet, he finds himself inexplicably pulled to closing the gap between your bodies.

You extend your hand for him to take.

“Dr…” You finished his sentence by offering your name.

“Have I met you before?” His large hand clasped your own. A blanket of warmth blossomed from your small hand in his grip. Gentle at first, your very same small hands laced in his. The sudden realization of where he’d seen you hit him like a bullet through the head: unexpected and instantaneous. The image rippled across his mind, Miguel’s hand collared on your nape, his fat dick splitting your cunt against his office’s wide windows. Another pulse of heat soared through his hand--

Miguel jerked his hand back. What in the hell?

“¿Estás bien?” You were so close that he could smell the perfume on your skin. A dark cherry, sultry, and so good. He was swimming in the vague delusion that was your skin against his. There was something delicious about the way you looked at him, tracing the outline of his tie that sat tightly behind a constricting vest. He was hazy, clumsily falling back into his office chair. Moving was tiring with the sudden vial of desire that flooded through his veins. You were at his side in an instant.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s… the heat.”

“Oh! Stone's office is always hot. Here, I'll help you,” No-- he tried to argue. Against his wishes, you slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders and down his muscular arms, loitering a bit too long along his pumped biceps. “Though, I guess it’s all yours now, isn’t it? We all are.”

Miguel has no energy to fight you, lost in the haze that was last night’s forgotten dream. He’d never met you before, that much he was sure. Yet he swore, on all that was scientific and right, that he dreamed of your body on his, emptying him of any worries as he came into the nothingness of his sheets. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was a sea of rapture, and he drowned in it.

“According to your AI, you’re burning up lately.”

How do you know? You walked around his chair, your slender heels clicking over the hardwood floor. His eyes traced the curves of your velvet red pencil dress up to your bust as you leaned in, the back of your hand taking his temperature on his forehead. Your bust had delicate black lace detailing that enhanced your natural beauty. It scorched his ability to be a decent gentleman. Every man had their limits. He’s nearly at his, and you’ve only just arrived.

“You're so warm,” you gasped, but it's strained, a crack through stained glass. “Let me help you.”

You reached for the knot of his tie. That’s enough-- Miguel shoves your hand from his neck. He tugs the charcoal tie away from his throat, drawing it away from his white button-up. You wet your lips, drawing a sheen across your perfectly applied lipstick. You came in here with a plan and purpose to inflame him-- and did just that.

“Careful.”

A pause-- your eyes challenged him, seemed to know how weak he was in resisting the strain of lust that came with your mere presence. He was losing the fight quicker than he’d like. Miguel has to focus. “Your findings on Rapture’s… trial run. Where are they?”

“Destroyed,” you answered curtly.

"Project 2099?"

“Under seal. Oh, don’t look at me like that, hermoso. It wasn’t my choice.”

Hermoso. A flicker of anger shot through him as you reclined on his desk and ran your hands across the rim. You seem to notice the rosary on his desk, eyes lingering on it for more than a few seconds. You dipped so comfortably between propriety and looseness. The distance between your easily accessible skirt and his hardening erection is the entirety of only a few steps. “Stone’s orders, not mine.”

“There are no copies?”

“Why would there be? Stone was always very persistent with what he wanted.”

You? He doesn’t ask.

Something in him doesn’t want to think of it, what his father could have done to you that would make you so willing to stand so close to him. Your gaze faltered. You bore at his groin, his sleek dark slacks straining against his length.

“Now you want to know if I fucked him, que no?”

That's a yes. The way you slip onto his desk, legs slightly apart, tells him all he needs to know. His gaze falters, down then up again, an irrational amount of envy welling low in his belly. He found himself wondering what you’ve done in this very room. You bat your long lashes, far too pretty. He isn't easily dissuaded.

“I've barely met you and you want to know everything about my work and personal life. You’re so greedy. So like him.”

“I am nothing like that man.” At that very moment, his eyes locked with yours. A distant rage filled his belly. No one, he meant no one, compared him with that maniac. His tongue twisted in his mouth, ready to make some sharp remark, but you snatched his words by leaning forward, pressing your lips to his head. Your fingertips combed through his dark hair, a warm comfort. A kiss? His hands felt heavy, weighed down by an impossible weight, one he couldn’t push off no matter how much he strained.

"Hasta luego, Miguel.”

The door closes behind you with a clap. Back in the chair, Miguel was heaving heavy breaths. The restriction on his body loosened up and allowed Miguel to grab the black mirror stashed in a drawer below his desk. Your sticky lipstick left a stain on his forehead, strained with stress lines. He wiped away the red stain of your lipstick and rolled the remnants between his thumb and middle finger.

"Like Stone," he repeated with a hiss. "Mierda."

He wracked his hand around his swollen cock-- panting as he beat himself off, ecstasy claiming that he had to have you. The insatiable need to have -- his father’s whore-- overrode any of the papers on his desk. He came into the cold nothingness that is the air, his hands coated in his own essence. Miguel untucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped himself clean.

“Lyla? Who?” he gasped a breath, “Who is that woman?”

“Beats me,” Lyla thought she was so funny. “She’s not in any electronic records.”

“Really.”

Even if that was the case, Miguel would be damned if Stone got the better of him in death. Miguel cleaned up his hand and whirled open the sexual harassment folder-- he was nothing if not a determined man.

You shouldn’t be here. No, really, you should not be employed here.

He doesn’t know your qualifications because he cannot find them. In the electronic documents, your file is bare bones. The suggestion of your education is non-verifiable but signed off by Stone himself. If it were only him, he might chalk it up to corruption. But there were others-- other dead bodies-- who signed off on your highly amended report on Rapture. The board claimed your employment was not a subject for discussion. Even if he were the face of the company, you were untouchable.

He left his office to the small coffee shop on the third floor. The man who ran it, Peter, was a refreshment from the stress of the day in his own, weird little way. It was probably the high quantity of caffeine that kept him awake.

On the surface, Miguel’s dreams are unoffensive. Light things, like fingers brushing veins that creep along his muscles, soapy breasts dragging along his chest. Using your body like a sponge to clean him after a heavy session at the gym. You are always on your knees, suckling the cum free from his cock with an angelic little flutter of your lashes and those sultry, cat-like eyes. He was in a state of constant arousal with nothing to show for it but a consistently swollen dick. At his age, he considers it a feat.

“You’re so sexy, Peter.”

There it was again. Your giggle over top of the sound of the hiss of a coffee machine. Peter was laughing, shy, or uncomfortable, he couldn’t quite tell. Miguel slips off his wire sunglasses, looking along the bar for the source.

“Hey, Miguel!”

He paced around the corner, then back. There are a few work couples and colleagues speaking with one another. Their tables are fresh with coffee and tea, tiny wrapped sandwiches a poor lunch. You’re conspicuously absent. The lack of sleep was fucking with his head, it had to be. He settled the glasses into the lining of his suit pocket and withdrew his wallet.

“Miguel! You'll never guess who came by. Uh, the usual?” Peter bounced over, leaning over the cash register with a glitter in his eye. He was more upbeat than even usual. Some girl must have made his day, he decided. Sí, he rumbled. Miguel dipped his fingers into his wallet to pull out his card only to be stopped short of the action.

“Nope,” Peter pushed Miguel’s hand away. “Someone paid for you.”

“For me?” Miguel settled the card in its proper slot. “Who?”

“You know,” Peter whispers. "The bruja."

“She was here?” he repeated, following Peter across the side of the bar as he began to make his coffee. Peter is an airhead, a wonderful airhead. Some part of him is infectious on days when he’s not being stalked by a woman with no traceable name. It was as if you were wiped clean. “When?”

“About two hours ago? She said you looked spooked and left me some money for your coffee. I think she likes you.”

You were doing more than liking him.

“And why would you think that?” Miguel pulled out a chair at the bar, humoring the scrawnier man. Peter frothed some milk, a fluffy cloud of relaxation on top of his usual coffee dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg. Miguel takes the mug from Peter, wrinkling his nose at the addition of nutmeg.

“Well, she turned down some dude from marketing,” Peter mentions. “I've been here for a while and-- she rarely turns anyone down.”

You rarely turn anyone down?

It bothered him long after he finished the coffee. You’re so sexy, Peter. You weren’t there. Peter told him that you’d been gone for two hours. He should not have heard the wisps of your caramelized voice in the coffee shop.

It’s the exhaustion, Miguel convinced himself. He just needs the weekend, to rest.

By Saturday night, he hit his last nerve.

Restful sleep would not come. He lay in his large, empty king-sized bed after searching through files for another project that had no other name but 2099 for the entirety of ten long hours. Any information-- redacted-- but your name slapped over the top and bottom of countless documents was like a great, big fuck-you O'Hara. The more he read about you, the angrier he became. You enraged him, but he was positively enthralled with your presence.

He lay in bed listening to should-be soothing jazz that now grated his ear. Night after night, his torment never failed. When he finally found an instance of peace, his muscles locked up. Not quite awake, but not quite asleep. Heavy pressure overtook his chest and arms forced him to remain still. The world fazed in and out, doom on beating alarm bells in the back of his mind. Then he felt it, the phantom pressure on his neck that slid over his tawny skin, from his belly to the dark happy trail that dipped below his silky pants.

Miguel gritted his teeth and ripped himself from his trance. When his eyes popped apart, he was greeted by his shock. Hunger flowed through him in warm waves, piercing underneath his skin. Miguel’s fingers twinged, your phantom figure on top of him. It looked like you, but misty, as though an illusion. In the darkness, he can only make out the shadows that bounce off what little light is in the room.

“Motherfucker--”

Though he said that, your teasing fingers freed him from his cozy pants, ripping them around his hirsute thighs. His length lulls against his body, a shameful drool of cum gathered at his cock. A night of phantom touches has done him in. Miguel lurched back onto his flat pillows when he was abruptly shoved down by an outrageous amount of force. With his arms thrown up by his head-- he whimpered, frustrated with tonight's-- dream, delusion, dare he say-- reality. His joints were locked by invincible chains that forced him to stay in place. The more he fought, the hotter his need became for what came next. His body was pitifully trained.

He wasn’t certain that it was you-- but it smelled so deeply of your perfume, rich and cherry, flooding his nostrils. So familiar. He glanced down at the opaque figure, grinding over his hard cock. A pair of hands crashed onto his shoulder, claws curling into his broad shoulders. Blood seeped forth. A growl gathered in his chest, ripping up when something warm and tight sunk down on his bobbing dick. Miguel gritted his teeth: it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. Not for a lack of viable partners, but his annoyance with them all.

Despite his immense muscle, he was too weak to do anything about it. Even if he could, what would he do? Throw off the sex-crazed hallucination on his dick? You rolled your hips over him, suckling him right back up. Hypnotized by the smoky illusion, Miguel gazed on begrudgingly, grunting as you rolled over him, his dick straining your insides. He was a toy, nothing more and nothing less, used for his fat cock that split your airy body apart. His hips jerked, frustrated as he found he could go no deeper. You punished him by dragging your claws over his swarthy shoulders, over his collarbones. Blood ripped free, sliding down his deltoids.

“Chingado,” Miguel’s lips parted for the word, hips juddering up like a hungry slut. It wasn’t normal, the warm tickle of your lubricant over his shaft, exquisite in its nature. His heels dug into the bed, balls tightened. He was so damn close to his relief, he could taste it on his tongue, bordering somewhere between immense pleasure and decadent pain. Your need for his pain won out, dipping down over his chest and latching your fangs over his chest-- then up, hooking on the front of his throat. It was going to bruise, badly.

You shook loose his orgasm, ripped free with the need to fill you, own you-- as though he were not the one being owned. His hips staggered, sticky whips of cum coating your walls in waves. More than he’d cum before before. His eyes shut hard, tears pricking the sides of his eyes. Then, as if it never happened, the hold on his hands was released. He struggled with his freedom, his hands slack, softening cock worthlessly weeping over his thigh. The pain-- oh, the pain, it washed over him moments later.

“Woah,” Lyla interrupted, “Miguel! What happened?”

She couldn’t see you. His eyes were like two dark coins, staring up at the ceiling, wide, and unseeing. He can hear her frantic questions, the ligature marks left behind from invincible chains, and the all-too-real blood and bruising that left him utterly ruined.

“It,” he choked out, heat biting at his well-chiseled face. “It hurts.”

He doesn’t remember what comes next. It was five in the morning when he finally rolled out of bed, and onto the floor, gripping the growing headache that grew miserably behind his head. Bitterness bubbled in his stomach, exhaustion in his eyes. The aberration that was his poor sleep was irksome more than anything. He felt someone’s eyes on him, soft and worried, rushing to his aid as though he were an old man who fell off a bed.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Peter said with an undercurrent of concern soaring through his words. “No, wait. I got you.”

He helped him sit against the frame of his bed, a frame that looks small as shit with Miguel’s large body against the frame. He’s unsure of what to say, assuming that Lyla called him in desperation, and let him into the house that Peter most definitely did not have a key to. Miguel’s chest ached. “What happened? Are you… are you okay?”

Everyone seems to ask him that lately.

“I’m fine,” he was alien to the feeling of care. He knew when Miguel dug himself into a hole. Miguel didn’t want to think about what happened only a few hours prior when his exhaustion took over his body and knocked him out. He dreamed of nothing. An abyss of unsettled nothingness, the ache low in his belly to fuck you until you were soaked in his cum and Miguel could finally, finally rest his tired eyes. Miguel pulled on a fluffy white robe Peter supplied, dragging it over thick strips of gauze and medical tape.

“You don't look fine.”

They both know he’s lying, but what else could be said? That the state Peter saved Miguel from was a rarity? That he’s used to being preyed upon by his own delusions? He needs a fuck, maybe that’s it.

“If you’re going to stay, be useful and get me that file.”

“Oh-- okay, this one?” he doesn’t look surprised. He padded across his room to his desk, kicked a chair that was falling apart aside, and picked up the folder on Brujería. It was buried behind more useful folders such as sexual harassment and inter-employee workplace violence. A fact that Miguel wasn’t exactly proud about in the first place.

“Brujería? Like witch stuff, right? No way. You think work is haunted too?” Peter says with a choked-out, nearly forced laugh. Miguel doesn’t pay himself enough for this. Of all the files at hand, it was nearly untouched. It included such things as ancestors, spirits, demons, and curses.

“I don’t. But the workers obviously do.”

Peter was soft and kind, but not stupid. He plopped down next to him and crossed his legs one over the other.

“The ones that say she’s a bruja?” Peter tapped on your photo. Your photo offers emptiness. That though you have a bright smile in the photo, it is undoubtedly fake. He never saw a woman look so innocent and sweet, but dangerous.

“You’ve heard?”

“Well, the men she hangs around always end up dead. They get all successful and rich then, bam, dead. But you can’t believe that right?” Peter reasons. “She’s not cursed, she just has bad luck. She’s always been nice to me.”

“A curse?”

“Yeah,” his warm breath wavers into a sigh. “Stone wanted company, found her in Sacred Heart-- you know, the one they say is cursed?”

“A cursed church? Give me a break. The only curse at Sacred Heart are the exploitive priests.”

“I’m just saying what I heard,” he’s whispering, shivers wracking up his arms at the mere mention. He tries not to push him anymore. Peter stood up and walked to the coffee stand in the corner of his dark room. For the days that he couldn’t be bothered to leave his room, he’d make a hot coffee in the corner and keep working just as he always did. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“Maybe you’re not her taste.”

“Yeah well, probably not. I don't look like you-- but she did call me sexy, so that's something right?” Peter laughed, “Want a cup of coffee?”

Sexy. That's it, he's so fucking sick of this shit.

“No, I don’t want a cup of fucking coffee,” Miguel bit back, shoving the bed several inches as he pushed his hand off of it, storming into his walk-in closet. “Lyla. When is mass at Sacred Heart?”

“Sacred Heart?” Lyla laughed. “You’re kidding--”

“Lyla,” he snarled, chucking his bag across the closet. It connected with his tall, black safe with a loud boom. She was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly momentary confusion for why non-believer Miguel O’Hara wanted to go to, of all things, a Catholic mass.

“6:30,” she answers.

“I’ll go with you,” Peter calls out.

Don’t bother, Miguel returns from the next room.

It’s been a long time since he dressed for mass-- some dark brown slacks and a warm, vanilla button-up. He snaps a chain necklace around his thick, bruised throat and his favorite watch. As he grabbed the manilla folder on brujería he felt like a child, lectured by his grandmother to not be like his bad man-loving, alcoholic mother and go to church. Despite very much not believing in any of this shit, it was frustrating, annoying even, that he had to go back there.

He didn’t want to go but his spirit was unsettled. Something told him that going to his grandmother’s favorite church would give him a sense of illumination, that it would make sense of the things that made no sense.

Sacred Heart stands on a hill, both physically and metaphorically. It takes offerings off the backs of the poor and sits atop a lush hill. Its stained-grey architecture is only beautiful by virtue of its stained-glass murals. He doesn’t care for the saints that loom overhead, unseeing eyes judgemental and cold. Viejitos and the truly devout are the only ones in attendance. Based on Peter’s account, he should expect you there. It doesn't take long to be proven right.

“Bendición.”

Is he hallucinating again? Despite the many rows of unspoken burgundy benches, you sit by him. Miguel is disconcerted as you slide your thick hips by, sandwiching him between the side of the bench and your chunky, beautiful thighs. He worked his words in his mouth for entirely too long.

“Dios te bendiga,” he said, the words chalky and thick in his throat, drawn up from the bottomless abyss of his fluttery stomach. You sat with a black lace veil pinned to your head. The only sort of women who wear a veil are very old or not Catholic at all. He veers on the latter. “You’re Catholic?”

“If you want me to be.”

“Why else would you be here?” he reached over and plucked up a cheap bible from a pouch behind the bench before him. Your eyes follow pupils dilating in a way that isn’t human at all, staring at the many words on the page that spun under his thumb.

“I think you know why,” you said with soft and pliable words. He felt himself melting.

Of course, Miguel thought, you always seem to show up during the most inopportune times.

"You didn't bring a bible," he offers it to you. Your eyes, dilate wide and bright at the sight of the thing, flicker a look down to it, then Miguel again.

"I prefer to listen." You turn away from it. He flipped it in his hand before returning it to its rightful pouch. For some reason, you did not want to be close to the book. He thinks he knows why.

“So you are stalking me.”

"Stalking is such a mean word, Miggy. Haunting, I like haunting better." Miguel throws open the report. He doesn’t want to read it-- but it is the last folder that may hold the information he needs. Your eyes fluttered to the footsteps of others filling their spot, an archaic song on the lips of the practitioners. Wrong page, Miguel.

"What was that?" he asked you.

"Nada."

He looked down to his lap where the report sat. The voices of those present, their lips forming an off-tuned song, itched at his already exhausted mind. The more he fought, the worse it became. You flipped open a black fan and cooled yourself with long flicks of your wrist. He doesn’t think it’s so hot.

“The rosary on your desk is from here, isn’t it?”

How would you know?

“You’re hiding something.”

Page 76. His fingers thumb on the pages on their own accord. Your eyes traced the movement, looking down at the pages before him. On deaths of company men.

I just do.

The thought entered his mind without prompting. He scanned names on the page. Aaron Delgado… asphyxiation. Tyler Stone… myocardial infarction. There were photos pinned there, photos that shouldn’t be so graphic, but somehow are. The men are as naked as the day they came into the world.

“If you say so, Miggy.”

“What are you hiding?”

You brought your hand over the file, closing it shut on top of his hand. He turns his hands over the top. Your fingers run over his knuckles, in misleading circles. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“I don’t hide from the truth.”

“The truth,” you leaned in, your words husky against his ear. “The truth is I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a good girl, Miggy. You have to believe me.”

Something about the way you spoke enraged him, prickling him enough to force him to stand in the middle of the priest’s words. He snatched your wrist with his thick hand, gripping you enough to leave pepper bruises across your skin. Your heels clicked after his boots, out through the foyer, past the bath of holy water, and down the discolored steps.

“Miguel?” you sang like a siren.

He’s hit his limit, throwing you against the discolored church wall. A gasp punched out of your lungs, aggravated by Miguel’s large hand strangling the breath from your throat. He felt warm as he kicked your legs apart and took up that space. The heat doesn’t feel like it is his. His bulge against your skirt certainly is. Now, he seems to expect pleasure when he is in your presence.

“You want me to fuck you, sí? That’s why you’re tormenting me every fucking night.”

“I thought you liked cumming,” you relinquished with a harsh giggle. It grates his last nerve. “You finally look relaxed when you do.”

“Qué mala eres,” Miguel snatched the bottom of your skirt, ripping it up the slit to expose your warm skin. He found no panties there, just smooth skin. He cupped your sex for emphasis. “No panties in church. You're filthy.”

“¿Y qué? You’re proving why I didn’t need them.”

He stared, lingering for a moment, challenging your insistence on control. Since he took over this god-forbidden company, you had been defying him with your devilish smile. Miguel slapped your cunt, eliciting a groan that was half of the pain that he’d had only a few hours ago. You liked it, scratching lines up his arms to his broad shoulders.

“You’re so big,” you balanced his abuse with your overwhelming worship. “So big and pretty.”

“Shut up,” he bit out and slipped his middle finger inside of you, unconcerned for your pleasure. Your muscles tightened around his finger, drawing him deeper. He slides another beside it, his hand leaving your cunt to slap your jaw, forcing you to keep focus. Your tender flesh is hot and red, a wonderful tenderness radiating throughout your jaw.

“And you're dripping, do you have no shame?” He grips your chin to look at your face. Raw defiance was slapped across your face. You rolled your hips onto his hand, forcing him to caress your walls in the right spot. He perked his brow, listening to the priest lecturing in the background. Your sweetness drooled over his curled wrist, dripping from his squelching fingers.

“For you,” you whined. “I want your dick. Give it--”

“You’re a brat.”

He said that-- but he was amused. Miguel slipped down onto his knees, knocking your legs rudely apart. His mouth encircled your puffy clit, bringing it into his mouth and suckling it fat. His rhythm was quick, making a point that he could make you cum too. You weren’t debating him, your hands tight in his hair, loud little moans beating free from your lips. His tongue was warm and soft, kissing and nipping.

The priest went quiet.

“You’re being too loud. Do you want them to hear us?” Miguel’s brow furrowed, slipping up from your vulva.

"Why is that my problem?" You whined in distaste after he stopped pleasuring you, your pulsing cunt beating like an open wound. Asshole.

"You could care for someone other than yourself." Miguel tilted his head, turning you to face the wall. He pulled himself free of his pants-- his thick cock fat against the curve of your ass. That’s what you wanted, he decided, gauging by your whine that came with his action.

"How does that get me what I want?" You shook your ass at him, waiting for him to rear back.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Fine, have it. Just shut up."

He leaned over you, your scratchy black veil catching along his stubble. He doesn’t wait for a response, pushing inside. He wasn’t just thick, he was long. But he knew you already knew that-- you knew every curve of his body, loved the thick veins on his cock that filled you so well. You scratched at the wall as he crushed you into the wall, his hips stuttering with your walls tightening him, drawing him further, impossibly deep.

Estúpida, he thought-- and knew you’d hear it. Whatever you were, you weren’t human. You were somewhere between a human and desire itself, evident in the way you looked at him, pleasured by his rutting hips against the church. The priest went back to his lecture-- the churchgoers enraptured in their worship. The only thing Miguel was enraptured with was the way your pussy tingled, the fluid soaking his cock, and the stretch in your lower belly. His hand clasped over your mouth, index finger poking into your mouth. Your tongue drew him in, fangs nipping his finger.

It earned you a hard slam, stuffing you full, your strange body catching his thrusts beautifully. He slipped his hand over your soft cunt, working your clit for your orgasm, though you deserved no such thing. Habit, he supposed. Gloria a Dios-- the churchgoers clammed with one another. Nearly out of time, your pleasure won out, gushing over his fat cock. Miguel suckled a breath, his ego demanding him to hold out, batter your sweet cunt through your orgasm.

“I’m hungry-- Give it to me,” you bit on his finger, breaking the skin and urging blood to flow into his mouth. Your body twitched violently around his cock, drawing bright pleasure forth. “Give me your cum.”

"Stay out of my dreams."

"I don't want to," you reared your head back at him, your nose tight with wrinkles. He drew you fully onto his dick, the final thrusts were sloppy and immature-- but he held out, making you angrier by the second.

"I'll cum on the floor right here, I don't give a shit."

"No, no! Fine! I promise-- I'll let you sleep," the threat of going hungry is enough that you concede, punching your fist against the wall. He grunts in response and feeds your body with whips of cum that felt far heavier than his usual. A pleasure, far sweeter than any orgasm he could give you. Miguel soaked your sweet little body with his sticky cum, chest swelling heavily against your little back. He finishes and pulls himself free. To his surprise, your cunt doesn’t leak. Miguel staggers back with a perk in his eyebrow.

You look far better for wear than he does, clumsily zipping himself back into cum stained slacks, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. You recline on the wall, inspecting him. He knows how he looks. He's bruised, long gashes down his chest, and properly fucked-- a mess. The manila envelope sits forgotten by your heels, your skirt-- perfect, as though he never tore it in the first place.

“You’re not human.”

Miguel bends down, picking up the folder. Not like he needs it anymore. He does, however, need that information on Project 2099. I can help you, he hears. He catches your wide, toothy smile. You've grown fangs. He isn’t surprised.

“Not even a little.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spider 2099 x reader #miguel/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara/reader #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara imagines

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its-nwarden · 3 months

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Ardan’s Descendants: Book 1 Demo Update

Ardan’s Descendants

Ardan’s Descendants is a WIP interactive fiction game set in the land of Ardan where the world and nearly every living thing are filled with an energy called aether. You start off as a child contained in a lab within the snow biome (one of the regions in Ardan). After escaping that prison you end up in Gairo, Lycras located in the desert biome where you’re enrolled in an academy and trained to become a member of an elite task force that’s been assigned the mission of ending the string of kidnappings taking place across all five regions of Ardan.

Having previously been a victim of the kidnappings in your younger years, this mission may help unlock the blurry memories of your past. Who were you before being kidnapped? What happened to the others who were held captive alongside you?

Features:

- Create your MC!

- Choose how you manipulate aether.

- Pick your weapon.

- Grow your MC’s Personality.

- Romance one of the 12 ROs- 6 male, 4 female, 2 nonbinary.

- Shape your story.

DEMO: (Prologue)

The ROs

Dax Ikarus(He/Him)- The Leader of your unit was born in the forest biome in the capital of Koteva. He has golden brown eyes, coily black hair cut low into a fade, and dark brown skin. Three silver earrings hang from his left ear.

There’s no denying he’s a great leader who looks after and cares for his squad. He’s quite popular amongst the trainees in the academy. He’s dead set on rising quickly through the ranks and takes his job seriously, but he’s pretty laid back when he’s around friends. Which is why it’s easy to sense he doesn’t seem to like you very much.

Noah Hendrix(He/Him)- The leader of a different unit. Comes from a wealthy and powerful family in the desert biome. The eldest of the Hendrix siblings and best friend of Dax. He has brown dreads with the sides shaved, hazel eyes, and light brown skin.

Known as the life of the party. Whereas Dax is popular, Noah is Infamous. A nonstop flirt and reckless. He may seem a little chaotic, but gets deadly serious when it comes to his siblings.

Naomi Hendrix(She/Her)- Was one of your classmates at the academy and joined your unit after graduating. The middle child of the Hendrix siblings. She has curly brown hair that’s cut into a bob, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

The embodiment of nope. Not really interested in the whole task force thing because she rather not be in any line of fire. When she’s not being dragged on missions you can find her at the nearest mall.

Noel Hendrix(They/Them)- Joins your unit along with Naomi. They’re the youngest of the siblings and are the most likely to take over the family business. They have curly brown shoulder-length hair, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

Smart, strategic, and quick on their feet. They’re not much of a fighter but if you go to them with a problem, nine times out of ten they’ll find the solution to it.

Gem Caten(He/Him)- Potentially the first friend you make at the compound. He grew up there and started going to the academy at the same time as you. He changes his hairstyle a lot, but his natural hair is straight and jet-black. He’ll usually put it in a half-updo. He has smokey black eyes and pale skin.

He’s a carefree, go-with-the-flow type of guy. His mom is the head of medicine at the compound so he kind of just naturally joined the task force.

Cameron Nadir(He/Him)- Basically lives at the compound. He’s a junior medic in training when you first meet him. He has dark blue eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair that’s shaved on the right side, and lightly tanned ivory skin. He has tattoos all along his left arm.

People’s first impression of him may be that he’s a bit of a troublemaker, which he is, but he’s also very caring.

Fay Webster(She/Her)- The team’s gear maker. Gets all the uniforms and weapons mission-ready. Born and raised in the desert biome in the city of Nelens. She has fiery red shoulder-length wavy hair, dark green eyes, and a rosy complexion.

She's creative, outgoing, and her mind runs a mile a minute coming up with new ideas. She admires the members of the task force and does her best to supply them with the latest technology.

Audrey Rokk(She/Her)- An ambassador of the water biome. Was born in the snow biome but moved to the water biome for work. She has naturally blonde and long silky hair, but she dyed it blue. Her eyes are light blue and has an olive skin tone.

Honest and hard-working. Unlike the majority of government officials you've met, she's down to earth and seems to care about more than just her own personal gains.

LIMITED DATA

Vin(He/Him)- You met him as a child at the lab. He had ivory skin and dark brown eyes, but his right eye had speckles of blue in it. His straight dark brown hair went a little bit past his shoulders and was pulled back into a bun.

You vividly remember how soft-spoken he was. He would cling to anyone in your little group that would allow him to.

Yara(She/Her)- She is the first kid you met in the lab. She had long dark brown braids, dark brown skin, and amber eyes.

You remember her being aloof and unwilling to get involved in any of the other's shenanigans.

Zeke(He/Him)- Was brought to the lab a year after you were. He had short slightly curly black hair, green eyes, and pale skin.

He was always grumpy, but one thing he seemed to enjoy was giving you a hard time.

Iris(They/Them)- An assassin you meet on a mission in the water biome. They have white hair, stormy grey eyes, and very pale skin.

#Ardan's Descendants #status: wip #Interactive Novel #interactive fiction

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punkeropercyjackson · 22 days

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Percy Jackson has tgirl swag

Potrayed as the best hero ever in-universe because she defies traditional manhood and it's just who she is and can't help being which doubles as autistic/audhd with no masking ability coding and irl transfeminism and autism largely overlap

Nonstop abused by men her whole life and a mama's girl who's friends were all girls growing up except an effeminate boy she stood up for against bullies and has a magic mental link with from how close they are in completely platonic friendship and a canon gay boy who had a crush on her until he realized she's not the ideal man he thought she was and she compared her treatment of him to acting like a/her mom and they have the middle brother/eldest daughter dynamic

Wears hoodies all the time

Dad is Poseidon-the sea has a lot of femininity to it and he told her 'the sea does not like to be restrained'

Punk but subculturally instead of an aesthetic poser

Gender envy towards Thalia and Annabeth,who is punk in lifestyle AND aesthetic and who is described as 'like a princess'(Poseidon is the king of Atlantis so Percy is an actual princess)

Thalia has tgirl swag too and Annabeth is played by Leah Jeffries in the show while Book!Percy is black-coded

Dated Rachel,a girlypop neurotic activist artist,but they broke up on good terms and became even closer friends afterwards

Horse girl with a transmasc Horse(Blackjack was a mare in Som but a stallion in TTC)

Her foil,Luke,is a physically abled allistic conventionally attractive blonde blue eyed cishet white man that constantly talked down to her about how he's more of a radicalist than her and had a harder life even though he was sheltered in a literal fantasy land for years where everybody worshipped him while Percy grew up friendless,poor,abused by her stepdad and bullied at her schools to the point she got kicked of 6 at 12 for how much of a bully beater she was and is an anarchist and intersectionalist with an overt sense of community and 11+ books worth of street cred and he was also a serial pedophile and had a lot of subtext of being into her and parallels to his relathionships with his other victims

Her other side of the same coin is Jason,an ex-wolfkid turned dorky team dad who's a paragon of positive and healthy masculininity and his arc is about creating a new self after loosing his old one everybody in his original life knows but he dosen't and they instantly became best friends with romantic chemistry out of being opposites yet the same and their friends poke fun at them for how obvious and quickly they got attached and they're black cat gf x golden retriver bf,Team Parents,hothead gf x chill bf and most popular guy x outcast girl where the girl is actually way cooler and Jason's butch ex-girlfriend said Percy is unimpressive in terms of masculinity compared to him

And Percy's other pseudo-kid(and Jason's)alongside Nico is Hazel,who's got the classic 'ressurection as a metaphor for transition' storyline and her femininity including how she acts alongside the gender presentation part is baby black transfem supreme and her life was basically a 40s version of Percy's earlier life

Loves burgers,skateboarding and cartoons

Obsessed with blue,considered a 'boy' color but it comes from her mom

Would totes have a blahaj and a strong video games interest.You see it too,right?

Men describe her as intimidating and off-putting,women describe her as enchanting and comforting(/ref to that fish meme)

Implied to want to present femininely at multiple points but dosen't reach out of fear of being ridiculed because she's 'supposed' to be male

Is the 'cool hot alt girl with a snarky bitter outside and a soft gooey inside who's the Team Mom and super capable and experienced' trope

But everybody in the fandom turns her into the 'Just Some Boy dumbass boyloser manchild' trope so they can deny she's unconventional and expectional

Named Percy.Percy isn't a greek name or a geek name,it's a girl name

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were-wolverine · 4 months

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i completely fucking lost the post and forgot who it was but i was inspired by a batfamily & pokémon au so here

alfred:

- alcremie (gift from bruce, helps alfred bake)

- lillipup/herdier/stoutland (childhood companion, grew up together)

- minccino (gift from thomas and martha when he was first hired, helps clean)

- florges (not exactly alfred’s, but maintains the manor gardens)

bruce:

- houndour/houndoom (guides batman to rogues, bruce’s guard dog as a teen)

- urshifu (found while training to become batman, fights alongside him)

- staraptor (attacks from above)

- noibat/noivern (stuns opponents, best night fighter)

dick:

- rookidee/corvisquire/corviknight (his parents found it right after he was born, they were raised together, patrols with him)

- phanpy (bruce got him one for his 11th bday)

- emolga (found injured near wayne manor and begged bruce to let him keep it, patrols with him)

- rockruff/lycanroc (found on the streets of blüdhaven and taken in by dick)

jason:

- ceruledge (given to him by the allblades after mastering their training)

- growlithe/arcanine (found on the streets, ran away after jason dies and evolves once red hood returns to gotham)

- alolan marowak (gift from talia post-pit)

- scrafty (started following red hood around and jason couldn’t get rid of it, begrudgingly adopted it)

cass:

- marshadow (given to david cain to train alongside her)

- mimikyu (found after running away from cain)

- espeon (first official partner pokemon, patrols with her)

- riolu/lucario (gift from babs, patrols with her)

tim:

- pidgey/pidgeotto/pidgeot (found near drake manor, patrols with him as robin)

- eevee/flareon (gift from his parents for his 10th birthday, evolves when he becomes robin)

- archen/archeops (found while looking for bruce lost in time, patrols with him as red robin)

steph:

- galarian rapidash (gift from bruce that she guilted him into getting for her)

- magikarp (found in a trash can and felt way too bad to leave it, became very attached to it, it’s basically a therapy pet)

- ditto (gift from tim, patrols with her and fights enemy pokémon)

duke:

- eevee/umbreon (got eevee from his parents, evolved when his powers emerged)

- ampharos (it started following him as signal and he ended up taking it home)

- shinx/luxio/luxray (saved from a trafficker during his we are robin days, patrols with him as signal)

damian:

- litten/torracat (first pokémon, given to him by talia, patrols with him)

- rufflet/braviary (gift from bruce, evolves once damian does emotionally)

- fletchling/fletchinder (gift from dick once he becomes robin, patrols with him)

- miltank (basically just batcow)

babs:

- porygon/porygon2 (her first pokémon)

- rotom (can infiltrate electronic devices, helpful for destroying evidence as oracle)

- joltik/galvantula (can suck out electricity from buildings, helps oracle and is also just cute)

- buneary/mega lopunny (gift from bruce, patrolled with batgirl)

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rise-my-angel · 2 years

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Past Retribution

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 17.7k

Warnings: Violence, angst with happy ending, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, keeping secrets

Notes: I don't know what happened with the length im so sorry. Can be read as a sequel to Confused Warmth and Distracted Mistakes, but also can be read as a standalone. Follow up Haunted Anguish.

It all felt somehow so familiar, despite how many years it had been. The stinging pain radiating through your body as the world around you seemed to spin ever so slightly. The humid air gave way to a cold you know didn’t really exist, a coldness in your bones that contrasted with the warmth around the worst of the pain. The putrid, almost moldy smell of decay mixed uncomfortably with the smell of blood.

Blood seemed to be everywhere, his all over your face, and yours pouring from your body as you sat in the puddle it was creating. The heavy smell of blood was overwhelming, so much so you could almost taste that rusted stench it gave off. Your head was leaned back against the concrete behind you, your back propped up against it as you looked at the body right in front of you. It’s unmoving silence almost worse now that it was dead, because now you could see it so clearly.

The cracked skin mixed with whatever grew all over their bodies, the colours of their skin turned along with it as what was left of the human shape disappeared. The scariest of the infection, their mutated heads twisted into nothing but a vessel for the cordyceps to spread further. If you could focus on anything but the cold dizzy world around you, maybe you could still feel it’s teeth sinking in.

Maybe you should have felt more scared. Seeing time and time again what this infection turns you into, and how much quicker it works on you if it enters from your bloodstream. But right now, your bloodstream was currently dripping out onto the floor, so it didn’t matter. If you didn’t stop the bleeding you’d be dead regardless. Just last night everything was so different, so normal. This strange feeling of family you had found with Joel and Ellie fading away the more your vision faded. Maybe you’d be more scared if your last memory of them wasn’t so comforting.

In that memory, you weren’t leaning up against a wall bleeding out. No, it was Joel's warm, protective chest that you felt behind you. His large hands held firmly against your hips as you both stood in the evening air looking out into nothing. His deep voice rumbling in your ear with stories about his own youth, “I’m not kidding, it’s almost pathetic thinking about how attractive I thought I must have been to girls. My long ass arms with zero muscle, and there I was trying to show off in a tank top like I was actually cool.”

You laughed, and you could feel the vibration in your body as Joel chuckled alongside you. “Anything would have impressed me at that point. I don’t even think I knew what a boy was yet, spent way too much time with my head in the clouds.”

Joel moved one hand from your hip to slide around your stomach, gently tugging you back into him just a tad more tightly. “So you’re basically saying nothing’s changed.” He felt your eye roll even without seeing it, laughing once more as you huffed.

“Laugh all you want, but I’m willing to bet you were the type of kid who thought pulling hair or bumping into in you in the hall was how you were supposed to show a girl you liked her.” A tiny yelp left you as Joel tugged at a strand of your hair without a seconds hesitation. His lips pressed into the top of your head no doubt in the form of a smirk.

“Yeah go ahead and tell me you don’t like when I do that.” He had the audacity to tug again, so you playfully nudged your elbow into his stomach behind you, pursing your lips to hide your own smile threatening to slip through.

“I hate you so much.” Your breathy laugh finally broke through.

Joel leaned in to catch your cheek with his lips, brushing over the skin as he mocked. “Definitely what you were saying this morning,” your elbow pushed him a little harder this time, an oof from his mouth coming out as you laughed and slipped free of his grasp. Turning to lean against the wooden railing.

You could hear Ellie somewhere in the distance approaching the house, and the sight in front of you, Joel rubbing his hand over his stomach, warm brown eyes watching you gently. He had gotten used to you being here, spending more time and more nights at his house. Living out this quiet little life out you all had wanted, but spending more of it together. It had been so long since either of you felt anything like this, that it almost seemed strange to you both. Out of place to feel like you had a house and a family to come home too at the end of the day.

You tried not to think about the word family. Still worried that you were intruding too much on Joel’s life with Ellie. As if your very presence got in the way of their growing bond as father and daughter, neither had said as much, but it felt that way to you. The feeling coming up once more as Joel’s attention shifted to the girl bounding up to the front of the house. “I don’t understand how she still has so much energy this late.” Ellie’s voice sounding exasperated and tired.

Joel raised an eyebrow playfully as his arms crossed in front of him. “If you actually went to bed before the sun comes up when you know you gotta get up early, you’d have that energy too.” Ellie rolled her eyes playfully, disappearing inside with a “Yeah, yeah.” Joel gently shoving at her back with barley a touch as she passed him.

That was the real family. Not you playing the imposter in their quiet lives. At least you wouldn’t be that way for long, not anymore. That false hope of normalcy shattered just days before at the mere sight of an old face wandering into town. The second they saw you, it was only a matter of time and just earlier today your fears were confirmed. A threat found it’s way to you, with clear instructions attached. It was either your safety, or Joels, that was the choice given to you. You weren’t going to put his life in jeopardy for something he couldn’t possibly know about.

His warm hand cupped your cheek as your face was pulled to look into his, brows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. “Hey,” his face leaned in to brush his nose against yours. “Don’t go disappearing on me, again.” This wasn’t the first time Joel caught your mind wandering off in the past week.

It tugged painfully at your heart, but you couldn’t show it. He’d stop you. He’d convince you otherwise, and you know you’d let him if he tried. His gentle embrace and quiet whispers too enticing to resist and he knew it. So you smiled, put a hand on the wrist holding you, while the other found the back of his neck. “Never.”

Pulling him the remaining distance into a kiss, his hands finding new homes on your body the more it deepened. Just as Joel teased your lips to let him in, he pulled back and moved the kiss to your forehead. The hand that found your lower back moving you to follow inside. “C’mon, it’s getting late.”

Promised him what you wouldn’t keep, and you didn’t even give him the mercy of not tricking him into thinking he would still wake up beside you tomorrow.

The night was normal on the surface. Indulging in Ellie wanting to spend increasing amounts of time with you, feeling Joel’s consistent need to have his touch find it’s way back to you. All covered in the dread of losing this, the weight of wondering if you ever even deserved it. You knew one way or the other what was about to happen to you, and as you were pressed against the wall right before Joel’s bedroom door, his mouth against your neck, thigh pressed up between your legs, your mind wandered back to if you deserved to let what happened years ago just happen then and there.

Not to tease you with this loving warmth in the same addicting way Joel’s hands teased you thumbs stroking the skin above the top of your pants. Your own hands searching blindly for the buttons on his shirt, barley letting them all come undone before you greedily traced the skin of his chest. Tracing your fingers down before brushing past his nipples and pushing your palms up against them grasping at the surrounding skin.

Joel pulled away from your neck with a hiss, his mouth brushing against your smug one as he bites against your bottom lip. “Now you’ve done it.” Pulling you inside, door closing behind him, he recaptures your lips as he positions you in the middle of his room. Shredding off the red flannel, it dropped onto the ground where he stood before he moved to tilt your head up with both hands on your jaw, one thumb tracing over your lips. “Always teasing me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Wanting to undress him more, Joel didn’t let you. Pulling your shirt up and over your head, your bra following shortly after. His dark eyes raked slowly down from your face to your chest, his hands sliding against the sides of your chest, and down to undo your pants. Kissing you as he does so, a softer one but no less commanding. Your own lips tried to follow as he pulled away, but Joel knelt down instead, yanking your pants and underwear down in one rough pull and tossing them to the side. “Always trying to rile me up.” He kisses the skin of your stomach, pushing your hands back to your sides when you reached for his hair.

Holding your thighs for leverage, Joel sunk lower pressing his lips to your mound, “This sweet pussy always begging me to take care of it, the needy fucking thing it is.” His name leaving your mouth with a gasp as he licks right from your clit down to your entrance, wasting little time as his tongue works it’s way inside you pulling moan and whine after whine. His hands moving once again to hold yours against your sides before sliding down to rub at your clit.

You couldn’t tell if it was him or you that kept pushing your legs further and further open for him, but his mouth pulled you closer and closer to the edge. Pulling away as his other hand took his place and teased inside of you, a string of spit still connected before snapping as he looked up to your head thrown back. Your fingers clenched at your sides, his thick fingers refusing to fill you. “What do you need, sweet girl?”

His voice gruff as needy, listening to you whine out, “You. Just you,”

Standing with a grumble vibrating in his chest, Joel slipped his two teasing fingers right inside your tight pussy slick with your own arousal they slid right in with ease. His mouth bite and kissed into yours as you gasped what seemed like the start of his name, thumb rubbing your clit as his other hand was free to grasp at your body turning you to the bed.

He didn’t lay you out, instead he sat you on the edge separating from you entirely, the only touch left was his now slick covered fingers shamelessly tilting the bottom of your chin up. “You need me?” All you could do was nod, and if Joel wasn’t so worked up he may have smiled. “Come on then, you can take all of me.”

Tracing his jean belt but not undoing it. No, he was making you do it. Part of you wanted to look up into his eyes as you tugged his cock out, but you refused to look way from it. Thick and threatening to start leaking from the tip, you pulled his jeans down just enough so you could hold onto his skin.

Joel gripped his cock, even his large hand giving away how girthy it was, he teased his cock pressing and stroking lightly against your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. There we go- fuck, that’s it.” His cock siding into your mouth you had no choice in what you took. Joel fed you as much cock as he knew you could take and held himself there. Not moving, not asking or begging for you to suck him, just keeping his cock tucked away inside your mouth letting the spit accumulate until it threatened to drool out.

Your own hands siding up to his hips and squeezing the softer plushness, Joel tsked at you condescendingly. “No? You still need more?” The nod of your head shocking Joel enough to grip the back of your hair suddenly, he met your eyes, hints of watering the longer he tested how deep you could hold him for so long. “Greedy little thing,” Your fingers dug into his skin just as he pulled your head slowly off of him. “I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you.”

He raked your hair lovingly once as he pulled you off just to his tip, groaning at your tongue brushing him, soaking it with the saliva built up in copium. Finally he pushed on your head again. Sliding your head back and forth against his cock for you. Sometimes he’d let you suck him at your own pace, other times his patience wore out and he fucked into your mouth in desperation. But this was utterly purposeful.

Pushing and pulling you along his cock sucking and soaking him, not moving a bit but still controlling every move of your head. As if you were doing the work, but at his total command. But it would never last long, you begun to moan with every swipe of your tongue against him and Joel’s hips slowly matched the pace he pulled you onto him with a thrust. Your moan turned to a muffled whine, and he hissed out throwing his head back, mumbling nonsense, just terms of endearment in the form of needy rambling.

It was almost too much, he filled your mouth so much that his cock felt everywhere inside of you. You let him use your mouth, eyes sliding shut as your cunt pulsed with need. One hand wrapping around his thigh for leverage, the other slid behind to grasp at his ass with your fingertips. Joel stuttered a whine out and his grip on you tightened almost painfully. “That’s my girl, that’s it, letting me fill your tiny little throat.”

He wasn’t even looking at you, you couldn’t even see, the tears building up as all you could feel was the pressure of his cock thrusting deeper and deeper into your mouth. His teeth gritted as his pelvis tensed up in need, “Gonna swallow me, sweet girl? Drink up everything I fill in your mouth?”

Your own hold on him pulled him closer, forcing his cock even deeper, almost too deep. Joel gasped out at the sudden move and his thrusts became so shallow, refusing to give up your warm wet mouth. He stuttered out your name between moans, readjusting his grip onto your hair as his voice just barley cracked out, “Fuck, baby-” before his orgasm hit him. His cum spilling into you as he held your head tight against his hips, feeling the coarse hair there on your own skin as he fills your mouth up with his seed. Needy groans gasping out as you tightened your throat around him with every try at a swallow.

Letting you milk his cock as much as he could give you, Joel finally pulled out of you. Only able to get a single breathe in before he leaned down to kiss you, finally moving you onto the bed properly. Joel laid his head against the pillows, his legs spread wide as he helped you on top of him, his cock still half hard between your legs.

For a while he refused to let you go, your hands all over the others body as he kept kissing you like a man possessed with desire. You were more than happy to keep his lips occupied, but Joel ignored his once again hardening cock to stop himself. Hoping the love he poured into your mouth would be enough to keep it contained. Reasoning with himself not to admit it during sex, not now. You might not believe he means it if he only tells you when you’re naked on top of him, remnants of his cum still painted on your lips as he mixes it with whats left of your own on his.

You could feel his cock teasing you between your legs, the more you two moved against each other the more you felt it swipe along your entrance or press up against your ass as Joel grabbed at you roughly. His hair curling the more he sweat. Luscious curls you raked your fingers through as he leaned up suddenly, holding you propped up against his knees as his mouth worked your breasts. Groping as much of a handful as he could get, biting at one nipple and teasing the other with his had before swapping.

You could read him like a clock, it happened every time you sucked his cock. Feeling your mouth around him only would make him more desperate to sink it into your cunt, and while he lets his cock recover he works himself up more. Losing himself in your body, and by the time he’s ready to fuck you his energy and need is peaking once more.

His mouth lets go of your nipple and grips the back of your neck, looking up at your wide eyes before tilting you down to watch him. Gripping his cock as he runs it along you, sometimes pushing enough that his tip prods inside before he pulls it back. His gentle kiss is a stark contrast to his rough hold, but so are his eyes. “Ask me,”

Your hands falling to his neck, you whine as his tip prods your entrance once again. “Please,” It was barley a whisper but he heard it.

Not enough though. His nose nudges yours, “C’mon. Ask me properly, sweetheart.” Another thing he did often, his touch and fuck was rough but he spoke soft and prompting. Getting you to talk to him, check in and make sure his roughness hasn’t made you drop too far down. His lips press against you again as he whispers your name.

Holding his neck and another on his shoulder you leaned your forehead against his. “Please fuck me, Joel?” There was the smile. Joel pulled your lips back and fall backward onto the bed spread once more, your body following as he finally pushes inside you.

Moans covering the sounds up at first, Joel rumbles to himself about how good you feel. Slow thrusts as his cock drags along your walls, you can hear how wet you are and how soaked you’ve made him as it almost squelches when he thrusts back in. The slow pace keeps as Joel tucks his face into your neck, taking a deep breathe as if needing to ground himself before looking back up to your hovering face. “Feel so fucking good, don’t you?”

It was embarrassing how loud the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy was, but your nodding prompted him further as he started to pick the speed up more and more. “You always need me to fill your pussy up so badly.” Harder he thrusted as he moved to let you sit up more on top of him, giving you more room to meet his cock back. “Such a good girl, letting me take you over and over.”

You shake your head yes fervently, the sweat on your skin heating you up the faster you fucked, your hands holding him tightly. Joel shifted his angle ever so slightly and hit that sweet spot pulling a gasp from you, watching your head tilt back, your tits flaunting his vision as you did so. Over and over he worked that spot inside of you, addicted to the moans and needy sounds it granted him. Your eyes squeezed shut too overwhelmed to even realize as you bounced back against his cock. Missing the bright loving look Joel watched you with as he fucked you.

“God, Joel. Your cock-” Almost unable to speak you were so overwhelmed by the coiling burn inside you, winding you up the more of his length you took. “It’s so, you’re- fuck,” Big you wanted to say. How ridiculously thick his cock was, and how small your cunt felt in comparison, it was all you could really think about anymore. Whimpering out all you could, “S-so thick, you feel so fucking good,”

Now leaning back down, needing to be closer, even just so you could feel his breathe on the skin of your cheek. One of Joel’s hands moved to grasp at your ass, holding onto a cheek and pushing you deep so your cunt took as much of his cock as it could take, you calling his name out so loud his only option was to let you moan into his mouth.

Shallow thrusts, Joel picked up the pace, taking the work over and fucking up into you faster and faster. The slap of his skin against yours echoed through the room, the loud smacking that he needed. Quick fucks would never truly be enough for Joel, he needed to hear your skin slapping together as he sinks his cock deep. “Open up, baby.” Joel muttered against your lips, his tongue tracing yours and in and out as you kissed, much like the in and out of your pussy. Gripping your ass so tight you knew his hand would be marked if not bruised into it.

It never took much to bruise for you, and Joel never let that go to waste, keeping reminders of his love on your body at all times even just for him to see. Adoring that you craved his marks as much as he craved leaving them.

Your neck stung in tandem with the burning hot pleasure between your legs, your hips angled perfectly so your clit brushed against the hair framing his cock, leaving a sting almost like the one his scruff and his moustache left on your neck. You could feel his cock throbbing, and you clenched tightly around him making him moan your name out. Nudging his nose at your cheek, “Gonna let me cum all over this beautiful ass, sweet girl?” He smiled as you nodded, his hand not quite slapping it, but definitely giving the cheek he held a smack loud enough to ring in your ears as he re affirms his grip, causing the walls of your cunt to hold him even tighter.

Joels own moans growing higher and higher in pitch, need whining from his breaths as he thrusted short but pounding fast. The jostle of your body against his rubbing your clit enough to catch your breathe. “Please, please...” Kissing him you finally wound up enough and let go.

Soaking his cock ever more, Joels jaw clenched as he finally reached his own. Your orgasm tensing every limb and the pleasure flowing through your veins, you cried as he pulled out of you. Gripping his cock up against the middle of your ass as he came. Painting it with his cum, his hand moved you back and forth slightly to let his cock rub between the cheeks as he spurted the last of his seed. Muttering into your lips “I’ve got you,” over and over.

You didn’t move, his hands finally rubbed against your back and hip while yours caressed his chest and waist. His heavy cock softening finally, resting on your cum painted ass as you both came down.

Not realizing it, but both of you deeply lost in thought as you held each other in your arms, nuzzling the other gently. Joel holding it back, telling himself not to say it. Not to blurt it out, not to rush it. He occupied his lips, on your own, on your neck, on the top of your head. Anything to keep him from scaring you off before you were ready.

You on the other hand, focused on the feeling of his body. How large he was, yet his skin soft and even plush at times made to fit you perfectly. How warm he was and how much you depended on it during cold nights. You had to remember, because you’d lose it no matter what.

This man right here, was what was at stake. Either you were selfish and refused to give in, and he would rip Joel away from you, away from Ellie. Or you left and let him and Ellie live their quiet lives in peace without your burden. It was better this way.

You drifted in and out of sleep that night. Each time you woke, you and Joel turned into a new position, never quite letting the other go. Just until the sun just pokes it’s head out. You stayed in his embrace until then, slowly untangling yourself not to wake him.

You sat for a moment at the edge of the bed, looking at his handsome face, peacefully asleep. Maybe that peace would be good enough to hold onto. As you quietly packed a bag, you felt the guilt of not saying anything. Not telling them what had happened, where and why you were leaving, it made you feel like a coward.

Too stuck onto the fear of what others had done to get to someone like you, and too afraid of how these two people you care so deeply about would feel. Shame you for not handing your own life over for the possibility of saving others? Would Joel and Ellie treat you that way, or was this just your own guilt trying to cope with running away in the early hours of the morning with no goodbye.

You paused at the door, fingers holding onto the frame tight as your eyes shut tightly. Don’t look back at him, all it would make you do is want to climb back into bed. Heart beating faster, you shut the door quietly and looked towards Ellie’s closed bedroom door. More guilt. You couldn’t linger in their house, it was surrounding you with temptation and it was just too much.

Finding your way onto the steps outside, the crisp morning air felt refreshing compared to the stuffy overwhelming inside. The sun finally starting to shine light onto Jackson, illuminating the empty streets. Bracing your hands on the railing, all you could do was stare down at the wood. You and Joel wrapped up in this very spot last night as if you were two normal people, but it was also the same spot you stood when he approached you and ruined everything about this small life you tried to find here.

Willing yourself too look from the wood, you only got as far as your arm. Pulling the red sleeve up, you laid our forearm out on the banister, the normally hidden underneath facing up. Eyes baring down on the scarred tissue in a mocking tone. You could still see the metal pressed up against it, the burning heat forced down as you bit down on something to keep your cries of pain muffled. The healed scarring now covering what you didn’t want anyone to know about, but it seemed it didn’t matter. No one here questioned it, but that days events still found their way back to you.

Movement in the far distance caught your eye, head shooting up as the sleeve fell back down your arm. Squinting too see through the sun shining on her directly, you saw blonde hair attached to a pretty figure. Maria.

Always up early as hell, always trying to get ahead of the mountains of work she took on, but also not the woman you wanted to speak too. She was friendly, good at making people feel comfortable but the guilt eating away at your insides wanted nothing to do with comfort. You knew she could see the bag at your feet and would say something if she suspected something was wrong. So you took a deep breathe through your nose, picked up the bag and slung it over one shoulder as you approached her.

Getting away from the one place you felt welcome in. You stood a good few feet away from her, shifting one foot to the other in awkwardness that she hopefully read as your natural disposition to not be chatty. “You’re up early, not sure I’ve ever seen you awake at this time before.”

Nodding, you looked briefly away from her face before turning back with an indifferent shrug. “Didn’t sleep well, figured I’d just make myself useful.”

“Would you like some help-”

You answered too fast. “No.” Back peddle, don’t be defensive towards Maria she’ll probe your further. “No, I’m good, not much for company this early.” Maria just nodded silently looking you over with an intention you didn’t quite catch. “Nothing personal.”

It was her time to act indifferent. “Didn’t take it that way.” There was a stark silence between you as your heart once again picked up the pace. “Well, I won’t keep you.” You nodded back and pivoted to start leaving when she called your name. “Remind Joel about coming over for dinner tomorrow would you?“.

Trying to will away the memory of his touch your hand gripping the straps of your bag tightened enough to sting. “Yeah, don’t worry I will.”

Maria squinted at you in what seemed to be distrust, if you weren’t too cowardly to look her in the eye, maybe you’d have caught her almost inaudible muttering much akin to “I bet you will.” Instead she waited a beat before changing tones. “You just know what he’s like when he gets wrapped up in something else. Still forgets to just stop and enjoy himself, he and Tommy both honestly.”

You forced a weak chuckle out, “Right.” Trying to hold a vague semblance of a smile, Maria just waved you off.

“Talk to you later, okay?”

Maybe you answered her with an “Okay” or a “Bye” but you weren’t sure. You just turned and walked away from her. Years alone never exactly did wonders to help your ability to lie, walking away was what you were better at.

Beams of the suns light waved in your face as you walked down the empty streets, giving you just a hint of warmth in the colder air. The quiet was deafening now, months living here coaxing you to adjust to the constant sound of people making your retreat more tense. You had travelled here at a glimpse of hope to find a place to rest, and it did just that. But you didn’t plan to get attached, to find people you felt this strongly for, to think you were starting to relearn what a family felt like.

Jackson was only ever supposed to be there for you to catch your breathe. You had predicted leaving not long after, but with the intention of going about your regular solitary life. Not leaving behind these people to hate you for abandoning them, and certainly not to travel and face a man unwilling to give up your past together, a past that changed your own life.

But also, a past neither you or him, had ever expected you to survive.

You didn’t know he was was in Wyoming. Hadn’t even thought about him in a long time. Not since a someone had previously mentioned to you that he was apparently with the Fireflies now somewhere in Salt Lake City. That was fine with you, that was one city you wanted to avoid, and Don was one of many people you never wanted to see again.

Parts of him were easily distinguishable, though. That’s why one day while you were sitting along Joel’s porch you heard his voice with no question. You were leaned against a banister on the top step, one foot bent on the pain porch, the other perched on the lower step to more easily lay out the rusting shotgun you were attempting to salvage. Off in the distance, you heard that high pitched nasally voice, croaking out that obnoxiously loud laugh of his.

Your head shooting up in almost shock, looking at the origin of the sound. Two men walking passed not too far to make out their faces you saw him. Whatever he had been doing in Utah was not kind to him. His hairline was as far back as his ears, and he was clearly favouring his left arm, holding it tight against his side as if it wasn’t moving along with the rest of his body.

Gripping the barrel, your knuckles turned white as you could hear your heart beating in your head. The other man he was with, a guy you occasionally worked with that you could call a friend. Well, if you made more of an attempt at being social then he might be considered a friend. But he knew you well enough to call your name happily as they spotted you. Not walking over, but loud and waving somewhat embarrassingly peppy.

It felt as it your arm was made of led, your muscles straining to lift up enough to give a half wave with a few fingers, your smile as strained and tight lipped as your insides felt. Don though, said nothing, and did nothing.

He stood in spot, body turned to face the house and looking right at you with the stillness of a statue. The beating of your heart sped up more and more, leaving you feeling sick. You could see that angry squint even from this far away, features no doubt frowning in discontempt as he put the pieces together. He was as much in shock as you were, but yours was terror.

He had left you there to die. Trapped you so conclusively that he didn’t even feel the need to stay and make sure, the way he left you? Every single other person would have died that day, you at the time assumed the same.

For a moment all he did was stare, and you back. Finally that nasally voice spat out towards you, “Howdy, always nice to meet a fresh face.”

That son of a bitch, the exact thing he said when he first met you years ago. You watched as Don looked slowly around the property you were on, back at the street he just came from until he landed back at you, this time a smug grin plastered across his face. So you just gave him the same treatment.

“Likewise.”

His grin grew. You both knew now what was inevitable. He finally turned to catch up, as you slowly stood up. The gun gripped tight in both hands as you raised, watching Don stroll casually down the street as if he didn’t just learn an earth shattering secret in one single glance. You watched and watched until he was too far away to even see anymore, but even still you didn’t look away.

Were you just staring into nothing, or was your mind trapped in the memory of the sounds of screaming, the slam of the metal door and the persistent horrible clicking and snapping of the figure in front of you.

Nothing was a solid stream of consciousness, more like flashes that came and went out of order, foggy images as if half of your sight was blacked out, and the booming noises that rung in your ears for days after. You hadn’t in anyway seen or heard Joel approaching.

It wasn’t until his hand physically turned your body to face him that your mind snapped back to the quiet present, the deep comfort of Joel’s voice calling your name. “You’ve been standing here like this for 5 minutes.” Your gaze snapped to his eyes finally, hands relaxing somewhat and lowering down as the strain in the muscles let loose. “Hey,” his hand on your waist moved to lightly cup your cheek. “Talk to me.”

Your fingers stretched and flexed out, fiddling with the shotgun before placing the broken machine unceremoniously on the ground. “Just zoned out, I guess.”

Joel’s gaze would mirror the same one Maria would give you a week later as you snuck out of town. A hesitant concern sweeping the depths. “If something’s wrong-”

You barley looked at him as you fidgeted around, leaving his warmth entirely. “Nothing, I’m fine.” You turned away and back, mouth trying to form an excuse. “Just gotta, stop by my house,” gesturing behind you, “Running out of clothes, you know?”

It wasn’t quite a smirk, but a tinge of playfulness sneaking across his features. “I think these suit you just fine.” Nodding down to the unbuttoned shirt that absolutely was not yours. He took a step closer with a playful but softer look you were getting far too used to. “Or you could just do what I talked about. Just bringing your stuff over here.”

Your heart had yet to stop pounding and everything was suffocating and heavy, filling your lungs like smoke. You needed to leave, and finally you were upset enough to just brush him off rudely. “I know, I just- I’ll be back later.” And you took off, your head too loud to hear Joel saying your name to come back.

Tunnel vision filled your eyesight as you threw the door to your small, cramped house and slammed it shut so hard that the wall shook. Scrambling into your bedroom your breathing was bordering on hyperventilating, sweat forming on your skin the more your blood flew through your veins. Yanking a small chest from under the bed, you fumbled with the simple lock keeping it sealed.

The only moment of salvation coming as you finally tossed the open lock onto the wooden floor with a bounce. You grabbed a few things, but the blade was what you most wanted, needed really. One you hadn’t used since you started travelling alone.

Would it come to that? Don worked for the Fireflies now, or maybe used too. But he had connections now to people who were all too happy to cut away your life for their own pointless experiments.

Now you walked alone, one bad over your shoulders and a rifle hanging off one. The crunch of the gravel beneath your shoes helped fill the silence. Focusing on the steady crunch beat after beat as you calmly approached the clearing. Surprisingly, it was less painful the further you went. You could feel the tension dripping out of your body with every step, and the heartache was replaced with a kind of solemn acceptance.

Out here you could pretend you didn’t leave people behind. You could pretend it was like the almost two years you spent alone, and it was just another day. The same sounds back then were around you afterall. Crunching gravel, light ruffle of leaves in the wind, the faint sound of birds high off in the treeline away from the problems of the world.

The overgrown path you walked along opened up into what likely used to be a city street. The pathways now covered in dirt with tree and plant life overtaking the open space and winding themselves into the derelict buildings that remained. The open space was large but empty, not a soul to be seen. You knew better. Don was around here somewhere. The question was was he here alone or did he get you to walk into an ambush?

The Fireflies weren’t likely to come out in aggressive force, they preferred to trick you with sympathy. Act calm and rational, feed you a story you’re likely to buy only to trap you into something you knew nothing about. Nothing you could see scanning your eyes around told you there was anyone hiding in larger numbers, so you stepped forward.

Entering the clearing with slow steps. The crunch of gravel smoothing out into a smush into the dirt, leaving the air even more devoid of life. You didn’t bother entertaining the idea that no one was here but you. Having that kind of hope was becoming something of a disappointment. The further you walked into the middle the more your fingers at your side twitched. The gun was your primary choice, but it also sat along the shoulder the same side as the knife you had tucked away. You were ready to grab either if you were jumped.

But you weren’t, not physically. In the dead air, and echoed shot blasted through the silence and shook away the birds in the trees. Merely a foot or two in front of you the dirt blasted up onto your shoes as a bullet forced its way into the ground. So he was somewhere in front of you.

You stood silently, heart treading on racing once again as your head kept forward while your eyes looked as far as they could reach. Then his nasally voice yelled out, “You alone?”

More twitch of your fingers, don’t reach for the gun. “Yeah.” You didn’t quite yell, but was loud enough to hear if he was further away than you think. It did however, strike a thought into your head as Don responded. You had without thinking, reached for Joels shirt. In trying to be silent you didn’t even notice you had picked up and thrown on the very red flannel shirt he had torn off of him the night before. It didn’t comfort you. It only made you yearn for his broad frame and cozy body heat all the more.

“Drop your gun.” When you didn’t comply he shot again, this time inches closer to your feet. “I said drop it, or I’ll drop you, you got that?”

Your jaw clenched, teeth scraping together as you shrugged it off your shoulders, plopping it onto the ground. He’d yell at you anyways, but you raised your foot just slightly over it’s side as he spoke again. “That’s right, kick it away from you.” It slid clumsily on the rough dirt, but it was enough that you’d have to go too far to grab it again. “Now throw the bag.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. “Seriously? What do you think I’m hiding in there?”

Don didn’t shoot again, but his agitation was growing. “Just throw the fucking bag.” Rolling your eyes, you slid each strap from your shoulders. Holding it dramatically in the air with an annoyed raise of your eyebrows, you tossed it even further then the gun. Dirt muffling the clang of the heavy weight slamming to the ground. “Okay now just stay right there. Don’t you fucking move, got it?”

Tilting your head slightly, it was as much of an answer as you’d give him. You couldn’t grace his hiding cowardice with a real response.

Finally the weasel barrels out of the tree line ahead, his own rifle primed and pointed at you as he came towards you. For some reason, it struck you how utterly disgusting his collared shirt dyed a dirty mustard yellow looked on him. Maybe you were finding things to look at that took away from what was about to happen, or maybe you were just starting to accept the start of the end.

His eyes wide and bulging from his sockets, he leaned to the ground as he keeps a slightly unsteady aim at you. Not even looking down he fumbles along the dirt to grab the gun without looking away, taking a few tries of patting around. Finding the metal, he snatches it back, barrel dragging across the dirt leaving an imprint in it’s path before he flings it over his own person. He then went for the bag.

“What you scared I’m hiding backup in there?” Gun pointed at you, you reminded yourself. Gun pointed at you with a man working for the people wanting you to, essentially die. Not the time for being a smartass.

Don took the higher road and just glared as his right side leans down to grab the bag, snapping it open clumsily and yanking it upside down to pour everything out onto the ground. Mostly just medical supplies, a small canteen of water, a few random supplies and a box of ammo. Don pocked those without even thinking.

Pausing before he stood back up, he looked between you and the pile before flatly picking the water canteen up and tossing it at you. Raising your eyes up in doubt he shrugged, hoisting his own gun up to keep it properly held on you. “I’m not that cruel.”

Your face felt just as flat as his looked, a complete portrayal of annoyed and unimpressed with a voice just as monotone. “Thanks. I’ll remember this always.”

Silence danced between you, waiting for a move to be made by either party, Don seemingly had anticipated a fight from you, and was almost unsure of himself now that you gave him control from minute one. His mouth opening and closing a few times as he licks his lips as a nervous tick before fixing a firm look. “We still got a bit to walk. So get to it. No funny stuff.”

How Don ever worked as security for the Fireflies was beyond you. You could only wonder where it was he was stationed that clearly didn’t require him to be in any way tough or enforcing. Maybe one of their research places. Low population, usually in some kind of a hospital that no one thought to look in.

It showed. The gun never was totally steady and unshaking in his hands for even a minute. Don gestured with the barrel and a nod of his head in tandem to force you to walk in front of him.

You didn’t say anything to him as you walked, there was nothing you wanted to say. The only thing you wanted was to ignore the overwhelming feeling of loneliness as you thought about what you left behind in Jackson, and how foolish it was of you to assume you’d ever get to keep it.

It was rare these days for anyone to be on the receiving end of Joel’s temper. He had settled into a quiet life without the paranoia jadedness that plagued him for so many years. He spent months pushing away Ellie and directing his pain into anger in order to do it, but she was still here, and so was he. The anger had simmered into a difficult acceptance of fatherhood, and it was still a process both of them were working towards. For a long time Joel had given up the idea of family, he and Tommy barley spoke afterall and now he was grappling with coming to terms with being father again, without being eaten alive with guilt and falling back into the circle of pain.

The more his quiet life with Ellie stayed calm and quiet though, the easier things became. Whatever paternal instincts he once thought he lost forever continued to come back day after day, learning how easy it was to be a father to Ellie and accepting that it was truly this internal anger and loss that planted that seed of doubt. But it had been over a year now in Jackson, and everyday it got a little easier to feel like a family.

Then months ago, on a gloomy day constantly threatening to turn the light mist into a downpour, Joel went in search of his brother to complain about a broken pipe and found a quiet but tense figure he didn’t recognize. A woman sizing him up as if his frustration on a bad day was a sign of incoming aggression. The Joel just kept seeing you around, and slowly worked your way into his life as it you were meant to be there.

It wasn’t always easy with you. You tended to be quiet and reserved, holding back your thoughts and feelings in favour of keeping the status quo, regardless if that’s what Joel wanted or not. You clearly didn’t have a lot of relationship experience, if any. Joel found it easier for him to remember what a relationship felt like then it was for you to let yourself enjoy it.

This past week though, you had been off. Not just quieter than normal, but tense. Very tense, ready to snap at any moment and constantly sneaking back to your mostly empty house hoping he didn’t notice. Yesterday you were less tense, but almost like you were gone. The afternoon you were distant and disconnected as you lost yourself in your thoughts, and Joel spent the night trying to pull you out of it. He knew all too well how fast being pulled under like that could get.

So when morning came, and you had taken not only your bag, but your emergency supplies, your weapons, and left all before he and Ellie woke up in the early morning? He knew something was wrong, he just didn’t realize the extent of it until Maria stopped by. Suddenly, that growing anger was returning.

“You just watched her leave town and not bother to ask where the hell she was going?” Anyone walking by would be able to hear the argument between Joel and his sister-in-law. Maria was growing just as angry the more Joel lost his cool.

“Do you really think she would have told me the truth even if I pried? Interrogating her would only clam her up more.” Their stances were one in the same, in the middle of his living room hands on their hips with angry eyes blazing at the other. Only Maria kept moving a hand to her forehead in exasperated exhaustion. “What was I supposed to do?”

Joel didn’t move an inch. Standing as still as a statue as an acidic mixture of anger and panic boiled up in his stomach. “How about you come in here and wake my ass up before she got too far?”

There was a sorrow in Maria’s tone. “Joel if she wanted you to know she was leaving she would have told you.”

That wasn’t an option. You were the third piece of the family he and Ellie created, you practically lived in their house now, you all needed each other. You wouldn’t get up and leave without a word just because you were done with them.

Ellie had stormed off at the insinuation you had abandoned them. Yelling she was going to your place with a slam of the front door that shook the wall. It wasn’t just Joel that felt a deep attachment to you. Returning, she flew threw the door not bothering to shut it. A panic flash over her entire face between heaving to catch her breath. “She didn’t just leave.”

Holding a small box in her hands, she rushed to kneel down in front of a small coffee table and started pulling things out. “She-it was just sitting out in the open. I think she had it hidden for a while.”

Joel knelt down next to her, a hand briefly on the space between her shoulders with a small rub as her breathing came down. He didn’t like going through something you wanted to keep personal, but it was all right there. A few trinkets were scattered about, small sentimental things like an old broken mp3 player, a necklace, and the sorts. Scraps of paper sat in a pile, gently combing through them, there were drawings. Rough pencil sketches of people and places he didn’t recognize, and near the bottom of the pile, one unfinished drawing that looked like Ellie and himself.

Joel’s thumb rubbed over the lines with a barley there touch, he didn’t even knew you could draw let alone that you were trying to draw them. “I also found this,”

Ellie handed Joel a larger folded paper, opening up to be a torn part of a map, in red was a little nowhere spot a town or so over with today’s date. Clipped to it was a ripped paper not in your writing. A large messy script that had written Joel’s name and crossed it out in a red X, below with the words ‘Just you’.

“What the fuck?” Joel’s soft muttering was enough to reach Maria’s ears, circling around the room to see what they found. Joel and Ellie met the others eyes with a wide look filled with some level of tense panic. You didn’t just walk away, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why someone was using his life as a threat to get you to leave, and moreso, why you didn’t just tell him what was going on so he could help you? Why keep something like this from him?

It wasn’t until the duo were nearly out the door that Maria’s comments finally registered. “Let me get Tommy, we’ll set up a search area-”

Ellie whipped around, her face was tense and clenched as she white knuckled the straps of her bag. “No. The sooner we leave the more likely we can catch up to her. We have to go right now.”

Lord, the ways Joel and Ellie somehow looked nothing like each other but also exactly the same would be fascinating on any other day. Joel’s jaw clenching as a determined fear blinked across his eyes. “She’s right. If we don’t go after her now, she’s just going to make it harder for anyone to follow her, and I’m bringing her home.”

Maria looked at him for a moment with understanding, before nodding. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone knows anything. If it’s someone in town doing it, there’s gotta be at least one person who has any idea.” A gentle hand squeezed Joel’s shoulder, in the short time they’ve known each other she feels like she knows him well. He and Tommy are one in the same in a lot of ways. When thing’s hurt, they wear that hurt on their sleeve. Joel briefly covered her hand in thanks before the pair left.

Ellie’s voice kept filling the air, a confused hurt that he hadn’t heard from her in a long time. Not since he himself had tried to leave her behind. “Why wouldn’t she just tell us if someone threatened her? What, she didn’t think she could trust us?” It came out angry, but it was guilt, he felt the same.

“I don’t think it’s personal, Ellie. She trusts us, but she also refuses to put any of her problems on us, like it’s not worth our time.” Nearing the edge of town, Joel braced himself for whatever they may find out there.

“But we’re family, that’s what we’re for.”

Both their voice were quiet. Joel’s heart felt a pull he had been holding back for a while now. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke those words or even felt that towards another person like this, and the last thing he wanted was to scare you off by dumping it on you too soon. He couldn’t help but wonder, if he just said it beforehand, would you have finally trusted them? Finally understood your problems weren’t a burden?

Maybe you’d finally have understood that you’re not intruding on he and Ellie’s little family, but that you were apart of it. Instead the pair walked through the path Joel vaugley had plotted out in his head. He knew how to get there, he just hoped that he’d be able to track where you went if whoever had you had taken you somewhere else.

Turns out, Ellie was thinking exactly what he was. In the silence, she muttered out a few short words in anger. He didn’t blame her, he felt the same way. “You should have told her.”

The air was hot and stifling as the sun found it’s way up, there was little sign of life as you were marched forward. Most animals and insects seeking shelter from the heat, but you had no opportunity. You didn’t dare take Joels flannel off to cool down either, it might be the only reminder you’ll have of him ever again, as childish as it felt to say.

Don had rambled on the entire time. Telling you about his time with the Fireflies, about what he did and who he met as if any of it mattered to you. You had your fair share of run in’s with them since that day and all it did was put your secret on red alert. Painting a target on your back, and you quickly learned that said target was directed at any and everyone who was like you. Their claims were that it was necessary to protect lives, but they had taken away every single one of you they met. When did that body count outweigh whatever they were trying and failing to look for inside of you?

That day you found out still stuck with you. The further from Jackson you went, it was as if the clearer and clearer that memory became. Don had lost his wife the previous night. You had been put on watch in the dead of night, running on no sleep going on 36 hours and no food you had begged to switch shifts. You were younger than them all though, you were only told what to do.

Men had shown up at the darkest part of the night, you didn’t even see it happen. Leaned up against a tree you had heard a twig snap and turned your head just in time to meet a painful whack. It only knocked you out for a few seconds, but it was long enough that they walked into the little camp with no warning. Your vision was fuzzy, and you had fresh cuts from your skin scraping against the rocks below your feet.

The group never found out what they wanted, likely just vultures looking to take what they didn’t have, but Dons wife had been the casualty. You had staggered into the camp, blood dripping down from whatever he had hit you with at the top of your head, and vision blurred. All you could really see was her bright hair splayed out across a rock and blood painting it’s blonde colour a sickening red.

Don blamed you, and honestly you blamed yourself as well. The rest of the next day was horrifically tense between you two. Don would lash out and lose it once an hour and you were starting to realize you deserved it. Maybe now it would have been different, but it was years ago, you were younger and less capable. And you certainly were far worse at defending yourself.

You were pushed out of your thoughts all of the sudden. Literally. Don shoved your forward with the gun like a child shoves a sibling in annoyance. “You listening to anything I fucking said?”

If you clenched your jaw any tighter you’re bones were going to start cracking. “Something about how great the Fireflies are and how well they treated you.” A thought passed through you and slipped out before you could access it. “Tell me Don,” Turning your head to just see his mustard shirt, “What kind of security does a hospital need? We both know these people aren’t healing people out of the good of their hearts. What’s the point of guarding a place only other Fireflies know about”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” You had forgotten how utterly childish he was.

“What? I can’t know their secrets? You’re forcing me at gunpoint to them, I think I have the right to know before they cut me open.” He was muttering to himself, something that sounded like a question or doubt but he was too quiet to understand.

The steps of your feet suddenly were alone, the sound of his own on the ground no longer playing alongside your own. Turning around fully, Don was standing in place, gun still aimed at you but lowered casually as he ran a hand over his mouth in thought. As your eyes met, you raised an eyebrow in question only to be met with him gesturing with the gun to move once again.

He finally spoke after you figured he was ignoring you. “I was asked to go to Salt Lake City. They got an old hospital down there that they use as some research facility or something. Not much action, sometimes a few new people would show up. Sometimes they’d leave not long after, some of them never came out.”

You could feel your guts twisting, but you needed to know what you were walking into. “Whose some of them?”

Don stammered, “I-k-,” before letting a large sigh out. His voice had lowered, akin to a whisper spoken out in a tinge of shame. “Sometimes they came in already unconscious, the adults at least. The few kids I saw came in willingly, but I don’t think they really knew what was going to happen.” You could feel foam and bile pushing it’s way up your throat in horror. “Only one of ‘em ever managed to get out.”

Your fingers tensed until they turned colour from the strain, willing not to form them into fists or even dig your nails into your palm, he’d take that as a threat. But your chest burned at the implication he knew you understood. “By get out I assume you don’t mean they just held the door open as they walked out.”

Dons voice was rough, gritted out in an emotion that felt painful even to you. “No. That one uh, cost a lot of lives. Don’t even think the good ole doctor survived that one.”

You didn’t care. Truly, you didn’t care. You knew they were still doing it, still looking for answers in the same places they always failed to find them, but you sure as hell didn’t know kids were on his table as well. From the interactions you had with the man, you found yourself fantasizing it was justice. It didn’t matter how polite he was, how much bedside manner he had, or the soft spoken ways he tried to convince people that giving you up was for the good of humanity. You knew better. You knew his work, his body count, and now you knew that included children.

“So who do they have doing their dirty work now?”

A building entered your vision, a small rundown shack of a place that may once have been some small town sheriffs office. There was one cracked window covered up hastily with wooden boards and the wood was dilapidated from moisture of the plants overgrowing around it. “Few of us, finding people who may help us,”

“You mean be useful to you.”

You could hear the eye roll in his tone. “Whatever. I got told to look for doctors and convince them to join our cause.” It was hard to tell with the Fireflies if they really believed the things they said, or if everyone understood it was nothing but propaganda to fool people. Whatever righteous cause they started off as, you didn’t think they cared about much other than themselves anymore.

“So you came to Jackson.” Don begun directing you towards the building, coming more up to your side than holding you at gun point. “And told them you found me.”

Closing in on the main door, he nodded his head for you to press up against the other side as he prepared to grab the handle, but he paused, his hand hovering above it as he stared intensely into nothing. “No, not really. I told them I’d bring anyone of interest around here and I’d radio them to come and pick us up once I got you there.”

A hollow chuckle left you as you looked with disdain at him. “Is that the plan, Don? Lock me up again, but this time trust you to just hand me over?”

Still not looking at you his chest inflated as he took a breathe. He wouldn’t respond to that. He was willing to admit to what he was doing, but he wasn’t going to admit he beat up a girl ten years his junior, let her get attacked and tossed her in a locked cell for days assuming it would kill her. That’s a guilt he was unwilling to take responsibility for. “Shut up once we’re in there. We don’t know if there’s any of those fuckers hiding in the offices or some shit, and no I’m not giving you your fucking gun.”

Don hated the playfully condescending look you gave him. “Didn’t ask for it.” Guns were loud and awkward, and Don never asked you to give up any knives you may had hidden on your body.

So he opened the front door and scoped the joint right away. Enough light seeped through the wooden cracks to illuminate the room, and like he predicted there was nothing right away, but you were willing to bet if you made enough noise, you’d start to hear loud clicking coming from those closed hallway doors.

It was the loud echos of a gun that drew Joel and Ellie into a run. They knew if there was a confrontation, they wouldn’t get there in time but the adrenaline flowed through their veins all the same. The clearing indicated on the map came up quickly as they finally past the tree line.

Both panting and looking around to see no one on either sides. There was however, a mess right near the middle. Nudging Ellie to keep in front of him, Joel scoured the treeline for any sign of movement but nothing but the blow of the leaves found him.

Right smack in the middle was a tossed array of supplies. Emergency medical items, stray ammo seemingly dropped from a box, and a minuscule amount of anything to survive long lasting out here. The sickening feeling grew as Joel realized that if you never planned on coming back, judging by what you had on you, you sure didn’t intend on lasting long out here either.

Ellie’s eyes were stuck on a scattered spray of blood. Not enough to be from a gunshot wound, but someone was definitely hit here. Fingers gripping the edge of your bag tightly she almost started trembling. “You should have told her.”

It was quiet but she knew Joel heard her. His unresponsive look only upset her more, this time she yelled. “You should have told her!” Taking steps towards him she looked up at him in anger as if her short stature could be a threat. “If you just told her how you feel, she wouldn’t have just walked out on us!”

Joel was quiet. His heart brewing in his chest as the way she worded it felt more than just an accident. Walked out on us. Like they were a normal family whose other parent just left one day and didn’t come back. “Ellie, she was hiding something she thought was bigger than us-”

Standing her ground, Ellie didn’t back down. “And if she knew you loved her maybe she would have actually realized we wanted to help-”

Joel sternly gave a warn of her name more than once, trying to overpower the increased emotions from the teenager without losing his cool. Finally, he yelled it once more, leaning down to grasp at her arms and force her to look him in the eye. Her voice was quieter this time. “I know how it feels to think the people you love don’t care about you like that back. Like you’re attachment to them just interrupts there life.”

Not quite watery, but a misty glaze over her eyes stabbed at his heart. One hand moved to hold her cheek as his voice softened. “So we find her. We get her home and prove her otherwise. Okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Ellie’s composure returned and stood a little taller again. Joel bent down for a minute to gather you’re forgotten things. His low view giving him a better vantage point to look, as he squinted around to see any hint. And he found something. There were a scattered array of footprints in the light dirt around them, some of which dragged in the opposite direction Joel had come in.

He knew not much was out that way. Ellie came into his view to join. “That way?” Nodding, the two stood up to leave, but she had one last fear to voice. “Joel, what if he find her and she’s..”

The anxiety ate away at him, you were so afraid of getting in the way of their lives that you were willing to die out here just to spare them your problems. He couldn’t think that way. They’d get to you and you would be totally fine. It was a stupid hope to so desperately hold onto, but finding nothing but a corpse would only dominate his fears if he festered on it. “We bring her home, Ellie. No matter what.”

Joel told himself to focus on your feeling. How you so rarely ever touched him in any way that wasn’t filled with a hesitant wave of strong emotions, the way you reciprocated how intense he was growing to feel about you. The bark of laughter you’d give out when the cracks finally were chipped away at.

The image of you trying to hide your mouth behind a laugh or smile, and how that turned into a full smiling giggle with a roll of your eyes as Joel would grab at your hands and pull them behind your back, mumbling into your ear to “stop hiding from me, already.”

Focusing on nights, how intimate sex with you was like you craved close and meaningful as opposed to just casual and fun, and after every time, it was the only time in decades that he felt so comfortable falling asleep next to somebody.

Focus on that he told himself. Joel had to focus on that, not the gut wrenching nightmare they may find.

So far he had let you pace around freely, watching you just wait for him to make any kind of move. That sickness in your stomach never really going away. You only ever heard of other adults being brought to them, but you didn’t know kids had been as well. Kids that had never even experienced a world before everything was ravaged by infection. Demanding they give their life up for something they never even knew about.

You had seen it, people genuinely finding a way to rebuild their own lives and live in relative normalcy. You had traveled into a small community one day many months ago and found that long forgotten experience of a peaceful civilization. Maybe you were just naive, you had never actually lived in any of the closed military run quarantine zones. You just went from living a quiet unspectacular life to being pried away from your parents and forced into an existence of non stop running. Maybe it was childish to wish that kids got to have what was torn away from you.

You turned from looking mindlessly at faded, dusty frames on the wall, to the shaking end of a pistol. Face falling from impassive to bewildered, “Hey, look you have my gun I’m not trying to run.” You took slow steps towards Don, hands out to appear non threatening. “Just call whoever you’re going to call, and we’ll wait here in peace.”

You stopped abruptly, when Don shifted to point directly at your head mere feet away. “Neither of us are going anywhere.”

Tilting your head in confusion, you lowered your hands back to your sides. There was an upsetting waver to his voice that put you more on edge than you liked.

His mouth opened and closed trying to put the words inside it. “You know what I see when I look at you?” Your eyebrows raised in question but you said nothing. “I see the hazy little face of a dumb kid who let those fucking monsters come into our camp. The stupid kid who looked wide eyed and confused as I held my wife’s bloody head in my fucking lap.”

Swallowing hard, you tensed your muscles. That tingling sensation flowing through them as you braced yourself to move quick. You still didn’t speak, Don wasn’t finished and honestly, there was little you could say. Not of guilt, and not in defense. He didn’t want you for what the Fireflies thought was right, no he wanted you for something far more personal.

“I see the face of that little bitch who left your worthless ass bleeding out, hoping to god you’d get torn apart before it took hold. Now I’m standing in front of you, looking at you surviving what none of us could and deciding you don’t fucking deserve it.”

The flashes of memory in your mind became clearer and clearer. You had little reason in the last while to ever think of it, but it still wove it’s way in front of you eyes.

Don cornering you in a room drenched with the crawling of the filthy reach of the fungus. The yelling and screaming of nothing as he knocked you around, and the burning pain alighting your arm when he became loud enough to attract a clicker, and just stood and watched as it sunk it’s rotting teeth into your skin, waiting to kill it only after it was done.

You remember feeling frozen, your heart lurching in your chest constricting your breath in terror, only to have it get worse. Don had finally taken advantage of your shock, yanking you by your hair painfully, just so he could toss you in a cell and lock it behind you. Dangerous colours like moss spread around your body and blood watching the wide bloodshot-ed look in your eyes.

He never spoke a word, he just turned and opened a door you had yet to check, letting another one of those things out and abandoning you.

You had no idea how long you were in there. The world spun and faded as you were forced to face the end. The clicker guarding the outside as if just to remind you what you would eventually become. For a few hours, you sat against a wall on the floor, knees to your chest as you gripped your knife to upright against your chest. You didn’t dare move, make any sound. You wanted to feel when it happened and stop it before it was too late.

The bite wound bled, the room tinged in a musky scent of decay that should have pulled you with it’s reach. Maybe it was the shock and exhaustion that did you in, but you felt the world become dazed before falling to the side as your head slammed into the concrete.

You had woken up maybe days later, and that was it. You had woken up. Nothing had changed but dehydration. The bite in fact, was already scabbing over like it was just a scrape. Tears flowed freely down as you felt too much at once. Never once in your life had you been told someone could survive the infection, and even up until you made it Jackson you never met anyone else.

Rumours of the immune being seeked by Fireflies only found it’s way to you when one of them saw the healed bite on your arm. That’s when you scarred it over. A night spend hiding away with a fire only big enough to burn the metal blade until it seared into your flesh and hiding the evidence away from the world.

Rattling of doors brought you to the present. Had he kept talking, had he been yelling? It was as if you were entirely absent as soon as your memory invaded your mind. He was still talking, but now spitting at you to hide against the pillar opposite of him near the hallway entrance. His back was braced against the wall, with nervous hands checking his gun.

You weren’t quite sure what compelled you to risk it, but in quiet whispers, you begun poking at his resolve. “You really willing to risk your life for this?”

Dons eyes bulged from their sockets in shock, “What are you-”

“You left me to die once, what does doing it again accomplish?” You didn’t need to even peek at the oncoming sounds. Unchecked doors finding their ways open as the clicks grew loud. If you had to guess, there was at least two. “Kill me for what? To avenge a dead wife I had nothing to do with?”

He all but hissed at you, “Shut up.”

“You won’t even hand me over to the one cause you actually believe in, that how selfish you are?” Your whispers kept even, trying to stab at the part of him that would get distracted. “You’re fine with letting those people lying to people so they can keep cutting open kid’s brains, so you must just be selfish.” He’d get too loud, attract attention, force him to turn the other way to watch.

His eyes flickered between you and the pillar behind him as if trying to look through it. “You’re the reason she’s dead I don’t give a shit what they do to you?”

He finally met your eyes, “Would you have given her up if she were immune, Don?” His eyes blasted with rage the more you spoke. It didn’t feel good, slandering what you remember as a decent woman, but he took your stuff. Left you with one hidden blade and that wouldn’t keep these things off of you. “Hand her over like you did actual children? Other peoples lives don’t matter to you, right? Sacrificing kids is fine to you, would she agree? Be proud of what you’ve done? Or be disgusted at who you are-”

“It’s about making you pay!”

Too loud. Not enough to send them into a frenzy, but they clicked more. The cracking of their limbs and the groans that were left of their vocal cords screeched louder as they listened for more. Don’s anger flashed to fear in an instant. His body whipping around to finally brave a peek around the corner.

You could still feel the blood on your face from slamming into the ground, the phantom stinging of your arm as their grotesque sounds filled the dead air, the terrifying fear braced against the wall waiting for the infection to take you, and the threat of murdering that ‘fuck’ that you lived with if you didn’t meet him and do what he demanded, that he’d take away what he no longer had.

And so your fingers slowly grasped the blade of the knife. Your entire back braced against the wall and watching him to turn around as you slowly pulled it out, your grip tight, your resolve hardening. It was simple. Don either was going to kill you, the ones you love, or hand you back over to the Fireflies. None of those were an option to you. So your body inched forward slightly and slightly more.

Making your move, Don had gotten smarter then you thought. You both met in the middle, your knife held sideways across his neck and a similar feeling piercing the skin of your stomach. A silent fury brewed between flaming eyes as you fought to keep an even breathe.

You could feel the teasing poke of the tip of his own knife as if challenging you to stab him first. But that wasn’t what you planned. Your own free hand wasn’t anything he focused on, the silent creep towards his loose grip on his pistol.

It all happened in a moment. You yanked it from his own hand, and in return he slashed at your stomach. A long lash deep and harsh enough to force a cry of pain to yell from your mouth. The screeching roared in an instant, both your bodies exposed in the halls entrance.

Your guess was right, there were two, and both had their own targets to pursue. For a brief moment you only could watch one lunge past in a blur towards a now flailing back Don. A moment lasting long enough for the other clicker to come up behind you.

Trying to move back away from it, your footing wasn’t steady enough and send you flying to the ground, the knife clanging against the floor away from you as the pistol dropped next to you much harder. It didn’t hesitate.

Clickers only had one goal, the same goal that had once consumed their own lives. Cordyceps didn’t seek blood or violence or even food, they simply saw a host. And in the spinning world as you fell, it followed and sunk it’s mouth into your side. It’s only goal to spread it’s fungus to more and more hosts. Their teeth were sharp and unforgiving, as you could feel a firing burn splash across your skin like acid, and the mix of two open wounds bleeding in tandem.

Your hearing fell to the pounding of your heart, unable to hear Don’s own cries or even what existed around you. But you had still gotten what you pried from his person. Mustering enough to kick at the creatures body it pushed back far enough to give you a chance to grab the gun laid beside you. It’s teeth ripping part of your skin out as you did so forcing another cry.

It let out the very sounds you were once terrified of becoming, it’s mutated head baring blood soaked teeth at you before you pulled the trigger, watching more of it’s own blood splatter across your face and fall to the floor.

The other made a similar sound, now lunging towards you only to find the same shot forcing it to the ground with an unforgiving slam.

For a moment you were both quiet. You on the ground, trying to lean against the wall as you found yourself soaked in blood not just the clickers, feeling the wound scream at you in agony. Don was partially against a table, holding a bloody hand to his neck, eyes soaked with fear and a watery gaze.

The silence between you so heavy that not even the desperate need to gasp or cry came out, just a painfully silent feeling of pain. Don tried to say anything. Muttering softly, he called your name out to get you to focus on him,

“”I-,” another shot rang out. Your arm weakly outstretched as a final bullet plummeted into his stomach. Whether it was shock or physically unable to speak, Don said nothing. Just slid to the ground looking down at his stomach, hand weakly falling to his sides as a bleeding wound much like your own on his neck.

You just looked away. There was a brief concoction of distressed noises softly coming from him before they gurgled and stopped all together.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there. Body sitting and soaked in a pool of your own blood. The thick air could make anyone feel sick. The stench of whatever toxicity flowed through the clickers reeking the air and mixing horribly with the overwhelming rusting scent of your own blood.

There was no way of guessing how long you sat there, maybe fading in and out of consciousness, it was hard to stay present. Lulling your head to the side finally you braved a look. Don was motionless, limp and not breathing.

Should you feel guilty? Maybe. But twice now you sat with a burning pain from the bite of a clicker as he left you to die, only this time he had died first. Avenging a wife you never intended to be harmed many years ago. A man who told you, truthfully but with little remorse, that his new found group of rebels murdered not just you, but innocent children. All for a chance to look for a hint of a cure that you knew they already never have found.

You thought of Joel. A memory strange to think of in this moment, but it was clear as day.

Both of you sat side by side on his front steps, arms, shoulders and legs brushing up on the other with no space between you. From your view his scruff showed off the mixed in greys of the dark brown that matched his dark hair, just slightly curling in the summer heat.

Weirdly enough you could clearly see the outside of his face, a softness to him that was often hidden by a harsh glare. The strong angular nose framing his side profile in a way you previously never knew could be handsome or attractive. For a while you remember staring at him, before his deep voice pulled you back. “If I had a camera, I’d tell you to just take a picture.” His face looking at you to show off his looks face on, even if that's not what he intended. “Instead how about you tell me why you’re gawking at me like I’m a zoo animal.”

Joel’s face held a slight smirk, a lightness in his eyes that even he still was getting used too. All you could do was shake your head with a small smile and turn away again. His shoulder purposely bumping into yours. His voice warm in your ears as he had leaned in closer. “You gonna tell me what’s stirring through that head of yours?”

With a breathe, you looked down at nothing before flickering your eyes up to where you could barley see Ellie off in the distance. “Just not used to it, is all.”

“Used to what?” Joel’s voice was comforting even when he didn’t intend it to be.

With a half shrug you nodded over to where you had been looking. “All this. Being around people this way again.” Your fingers toyed meaninglessly with each other in distraction to his deep gaze. “Feeling like I belong.”

He was silent for a beat before nodding his head out to her. “I never thought I’d feel this way ever again. Not after everything.” From your peripheral vision you could see Joel’s hand toying with the watch always on his wrist. You had sort of talked about it, about Sarah, but you never brought it up yourself. She was his daughter, his loss, it wasn’t your place to ask about her unprompted. “But having that girl in my life? It helped me remember how much family really means, how much we all need that feeling deep down.”

Your brows furrowed, refusing to look up at his thoughtful gaze. You didn’t mean to imply you had intruded on his little family, that’s what you had been trying not to do, not to force yourself into their lives when you didn’t belong there. “She’s good for you. You’re good for her.”

Not saying anything at first, Joel raised his hand to cup the side of your head, pulling you into his space as he kissed the top of it. “So are you. You outta remember that.” You could feel his lips mumbling against your hair before one last smaller kiss and he stood up. His hand trailed along your head in a slight caress until it was too far.

You just watched as he joined Ellie, and how quick they turned to smiling and joking together anytime they were near each other. You weren’t sure how you felt, if you longed to be apart of that, or if it was guilt for wanting to intrude on it.

You still felt that now. The bleeding wasn’t pouring so severely, but you trembled and every muscle weighted down with lead. Your gaze had remained on the blade when you started to move. Crawling across the floor, face tight in a grimace of pain as your blood smeared along the path.

In the only other pocket you almost didn’t remember you had, you pulled out a dinged up lighter. It was agony, trying to pull yourself up enough to pull the fabric of your shirt away from the bite, it bled more than the gash to your stomach, so that’s all you could even focus on.

Your breathing was heavy and bordered on hyperventilating as you took hold of the knife. The blood left in your veins rung in your ears as you barley could see anymore. Enough to see the bright orange of the flame licking across the metal. You hoped you remembered how long it took last time to do this. The last time was to hide the healed bite, but now you’d settle for stopping the bleeding before the blur became too much to stay awake for, maybe alive for.

Your breathing was quick and light headed inducing as you hovered the knife’s flat edge over your abdomen. Your eyes squeezed shut as tension coursed through your body.

This time you had no memory of it. No chance to think or wonder, just the gasp of what felt like a scream, the tiniest register of searing burning, and then nothing. Passed out from shock, you saw nothing in your dreamless state. Just the vaguest dream of a deep voice, one full of such warmth and concern with the slightest of a Texas twinge, but maybe it was simply a dream of a better life.

It wasn’t clear to you how much you slipped in and out of consciousness. Sometimes you felt hands on you, pressure and pain on the bite wound you tried to cauterize, large and rougher feeling ones usually closest to the pain, and smaller ones floating around you. Other times you were awake enough to register the voices belonged to Joel and Ellie, other times you were weakly trying to bash their hands away from you too close to being pulled back under to recognize them.

By the time you had woken up, it was just starting to get dark. Ellie was no where to be seen, but you could see her backpack sitting by one of Joel’s packs. Your vision was still somewhat blurry from sleep, but you could still see enough to make out Joel solemnly in thought as he read something on a piece of paper.

Your muscles felt weak sore, but much lighter and the burning pain in your side toned down. It took you a bit more effort to push your torso up from the palms of your hands as you winced in a bit of pain. Before you really knew it, Joel has breathed out your name and knelt by your side. A large hand supporting your back and another on your hip to help you move in general.

His brown eyes bore into your face with a hardened look, not quite anger but certainly a degree of frustration. A flash of held back concern as you sighed out a breathe of relief as you were upright, but quickly was swallowed down with a shake of his head. His hands left you while he looked to the ground collecting himself before his head shooting back up to meet your eyes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Weirdly enough, his bluntness was comforting. Your mouth opened and shut as many things zoomed past your field of thought too fast to catch one. Lucky for you Joel wasn’t finished. “Why didn’t you just tell me what was going on, or ask me to just help you?”

Pressing your hands up to rub your eyes, as if when you reopened them you’d magically have a good answer. You didn’t. “It wasn’t your problem to deal with.”

His hands flying up grasp at the sides of your face, almost shaking you as he did so with his teeth slightly baring as he did so. “You went and almost got yourself killed, of course that’s my problem. What did you want, me to leave you there and bleed to death?”

One of his hands slipped away as you turned to look away for a moment. Fingers gently tracing along your now bandaged side. You could feel Joel’s gaze following, there was no way he didn’t see. You know the shock overtook you before it could be burned over. His hands clenched into fists at his sides now. “When someone threatens your life over something you had no part in, yeah I decided getting you involved would be selfish.”

Your jaw clenched, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as Joel looked with tense eyes still on your side as he nods his chin towards it. “Does that part have anything to do with the bite you already got healing over?”

You didn’t say a word. Nothing good ever came from telling someone, and it didn’t matter how much you trusted Joel with all your heart, that instinct to keep the secret to yourself felt stronger. Reaching for your arm, his thumb trailed over the long healed scar tissue, brows furrowed as he did so. “How long have you know..about..” his eyes flickering between the healed burn and the bandaged one.

“A couple years. He uh, Don, was the reason I even found out.” Relaying what happened that day, you couldn’t spend much of it looking Joel in the eye. Heaping with guilt for your actions and shame for not trusting this man with that information. Finally, you looked up and off into the distance nothing in direct mind, but far away in thought, you talked about the Fireflies. What they wanted from you, what you learned that had been doing, and that all you wanted to do was keep him and Ellie away from that. “You two don’t deserve to get wrapped up into it.”

The second you mentioned the Fireflies, Joels free hand clenched tightly. A wavering crack in his steadfast demeanour. Your name passed his lips with force, as if he had to push the word from his mouth calmly instead of breaking free. “This is bigger than just you. I can’t just let you go off on your own, family are supposed to protect each other.”

Flickering to meet his eyes, you were surprised to see a softer gaze, one with an indiscernible softness you still struggled to identify. So you looked away again, down to the thumb now pressed against the scar issue. “I was trying to keep you and Ellie out of it, you two are family you shouldn’t have come after me, you were doing fine protecting each other.”

“And what does that make you?” You looked up at him, Joel’s face a mixture of many things, confused, maybe even offended. “You said Ellie and I are family, do you really not think you’re apart of that by now?”

You didn’t want to get upset, but your heart and your mind swirled around you too much. “I’m not-”

Finally, his hands encompassed your face once more, this time a small smile sliding across it in affection. “If you don’t realize you’re family to us by now, you might not be as smart as I thought you were, sweetheart.”

A breathy laugh left you, wincing as you did so. Joel moved to steady your waist just above the wound shushing you to take it easy. Covering the one on your cheek with your hand, you met his warm brown eyes. “It felt wrong, trying to intrude on your lives just because of how I feel.”

Pulling your head lightly into his, Joel pressed his lips against your forehead, leaning back only to press your foreheads together in a small moment of quiet peace. “Think you got it the wrong way around. If I recall, I’m the one who dragged you into our lives first. You’re family. To me, to Ellie, you are family, okay?”

Nodding against his own head, you two stayed for a moment. He just found out your biggest secret and all he had to say was he’s upset you didn’t let him help you before running off? Sometimes you just didn’t understand Joel Miller.

You two stayed like that for a while, taking in the other’s closeness and finding comfort in his touch. It wasn’t until enough time had passed that you realized a certain someone hadn’t yet joined you. Pulling away you squinted looking around before looking back to Joel. Joel with a hesitant look on his face.

“Where is Ellie?”

He let a sigh out. Mumbling your name before finally finding a seat on the ground beside you. “She’s here, she uh, needed some time alone to think while you were in and out.”

He had to pull you back down as you stood to go find her, “Joel,” another wince of pain. “I should go talk to her-”.

Joel moved to stretch one arm over your legs to rest his palm down on the other side, finding a more direct look in your eyes. “Listen, before you do...there’s something about her, about us that you deserve to know about.”

By the time you joined Ellie at the small cliff side, hardly a cliff, mostly just a meter or so drop down the sun setting was glowing a beautiful array or yellows and oranges in the sky. A bright contrast to the forgotten emptiness below. Joel had gently pushed at your lower back as you stopped in place staring at her.

You now knew what they had been through, what she was, and what Joel was keeping from her. You understood why. You couldn’t very well judge him for keeping a huge secret from the people you love to spare them from possible pain or danger, but you also were beginning to realize that the longer those stayed a secret the harder it weighed on you.

Ellie didn’t look up at you as you sat next to her, joining her shorter legs in dangling over the edge. Her own gaze was the same as yours the morning you left. Sleeve pushed up, only able to look at the reminder of what was so different about you. Only on Ellie, there was no mistaking the completely healed over bite mark.

You let the silence flow between you, letting her approach however she felt comfortable. This was a rare moment for both of you. When she did speak, her voice was drenched in a held back waver. “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?”

Briefly you looked at each other, Ellie’s eyes flashing with upset and a watering glaze you know could spill at anytime. You didn’t get far into your sentence before looking off into the distance again. “I did actually. Some people I admitted it too, others just found out when they saw my arm. It never ended in trust. It just ended in me having to run, leave people behind because they were always going to look for people like us.”

Feeling her still looking at you she asked, “They?”

You had to approach it carefully, it wasn’t your place to tell her about the events of the day Joel went in for her. That was going to be something they had do do themselves. She’d get over what he did to save her, that much you knew. It was being lied to by the man she’s grown to see as her father that’s going to hurt the longer it goes on.

“The Fireflies aren’t who you think they are, or who anyone thinks they are for that matter. They play nice as long as they eventually get what they want from you. Those people will gain your trust, and throw it away as soon as it can be used against you.”

You pushed your own sleeve up, turning your upper half towards her as she did the same, slowly moving to line your marks against the other. Yours healed over from a burn and hers out for everyone to see if she chose to do so. Your fingers gently touched over hers and she did the same.

Neither of you had ever met another immune person. “There aren’t many of us, but the Fireflies will hunt down whoever is left. I didn’t tell anyone because ultimately your life means nothing to those people if you let them.”

Pulling back Ellie’s hands dropped into her lap, her brows furrowing in a similar fashion to the broad man leaning against a tree behind you both. “Marlene told us something inside of me might help find a cure, but that they couldn’t find anything viable.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut for just a second of composure. It wasn’t that they didn’t find anything, they never got a chance to even try. Don had mentioned a bunch of people at a Salt Lake City getting killed, and that an immune child escaped.

Ellie called your name, “If they’re not good people then what did they even want with me?”

Your face didn’t chance, a strong amount of effort and will to not give away what wasn’t yours. All you could do was raise your hand, and stroke the back of her head with a light touch. “They want us, Ellie. Any of us that exist out there, and they will lie to you if they need to.” She was looking up at you, a mixture of some degree of upset and a strange kind of affection trying to overpower the other. “You’re life is more important then what they want, Ellie. Both of you. You two are family, that’s all that matters now.” Your head nodding over to the side where he watched.

Ellie looked tired by now. “You’re family too, you know?”

That made you smile, and a deep chuckle floated close behind you as Joel came up stand just behind where you sat. You raised an eyebrow, finally your amused look giving her permission to relax, remember what normal feels like again. “You two sure you’re not actually related? ‘Cus you sure sound like it.”

Joel finally sat down next to you, the feeling of his hand once again finding it’s home on your lower back. “Don’t I know it. Why do you think we never get anything done without a debate?”

You shook your head, your little smile matched by either side of you. “Most stubborn duo I’ve ever met.” For a while you all enjoyed the lowering sun and the disappearing golden light shining in the evening sky.

Ellie’s head at some point had fallen into your lap, too much action, too much fear and way too big of a revelation between you two wearing own the smaller girl. Your hands raked through the lose strands of her hair sitting past her ponytail. Watching the unbothered face lost in a dream where maybe thing’s were less harsh and cruel outside this little bubble.

Joel ‘s voice whispering close to your ear. “I’ll tell her eventually. I know it’s right, I just can’t find the words for it without worrying she’ll resent me for it.”

Your heads leaned against the other as you moved it close to his, “She won’t. It’ll upset her, you can’t get away from that, but she needs to know. The longer you hide it, the more painful it’ll be when you do tell her, or worse. She finds out without you.”

“Just like it hurt to wake up and realize you took off because you thought leaving us in the dark would hurt less than knowing the truth?” Boy he got you there.

Your whisper was all the energy you could even summon. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Joel’s hand slid to cup the back of your head, his other gently letting his fingers grasp the bottom of your chin. His lips brushing over yours as his breath heated the skin it blew onto. “Hey, just remember. I’ve got you. We’ve both got you now.”

Your free hand awkwardly moved to find the back of his neck while trying not to disrupt Ellie. “You-” It wasn’t the right time, not for that. You had no experience on when normal people even felt that for their partners, but it didn’t seem right in this moment, but honestly, you suspected Joel read right through you anyways. “You mean a lot to me, Joel. You really do.”

Leaning, he soft as anything rubbed his nose down yours and then back again. “You mean everything to me too, sweetheart.” Finally his fingers pulled your chin the tiny space and pressed his lips against yours.

His soft lips fit you like they were fated that way, soft kisses turning into intimate swipes of his tongue on yours, but never to escalate. Just a need to feel you as much as he could, make sure you were still there with him. He was a man whose lost too much, and he’d keep your lips against his if it meant always knowing you were still there with them.

The Fireflies, the immunity, none of that was discussed that evening or the day after. Staying at that small cliff clearing to let your side heal as much as possible before the journey back. Ellie was curled up in front of you, her eyes finding your arm and your side many times before falling back asleep. Finding comfort in another person just like her.

Joel was pressed up against your back, an arm wrapped around your front, pulling you constantly into him closer and closer, and resting just above your wound not to agitate it.

It was weird, thinking you had a family in Joel and Ellie, but if they thought that way about you? Followed you out here to find and protect you? Now, it was now your responsibility to start protecting them too.

You three were family, and that’s all that matters in the end.

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