#fic: gone to the dogs

[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter one}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Bared teeth and instincts are all you have to defend yourself while out beyond the walls of the zone. And sometimes, you have Joel Miller, though he's just as apt to turn on you as anyone else.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, references to injuries, blood, one (1) instance of joel miller bashing someone's head in, gun use, gun violence, reader chokes someone out, reader is snarky, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: this is different by far than anything else i've written and shared. dark joel miller content tends to be so controversial sometimes but i've been wanting to explore this part of his character for quite a while. the reader insert is also far more...robust than any i've written but it's all so exciting! please lemme know what y'all think?

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The tracks are faint, you’re barely able to make them out yourself as you crouch low to the ground and move your hand in the direction they look like they’re headed in.

“Hey, you missed somethin’.”

“The hell you talking about, there ain’t nothin’ to miss.” He’s suddenly hovering over you, his own footfalls silent despite the pain you know he carries in his back and the swagger he has to adapt to not irritate it. He’s shining his flashlight on the imprint you had managed to find among all the dirt and rubble, a barely there scrape in the dirt that could be mistaken for anything. His voice is harsh, degrading in tone as he scoffs at your find. “You didn’t find shit, stop trying to make somethin’ outta nothin’.”

“Yeah and I suppose the marks that look about the same depth and span out in an even trail heading north ain’t shit either, huh?” You ignore the heat of his legs clad in faded and dirt smeared denim far too close for comfort. It would be easy to brush against them if you turned just slightly. Straitening back up to your full height, you don’t step back as you aim your own light over the similar marks that lead down a narrow path between the scattered and broken bricks. “It’s someone’s staggered gait, would bet they twisted their ankle or knee and it’s dragging enough to leave ‘em behind for us. Need to trust the younger pair of eyes we’ve got out here.”

“Don’t mean it’s our guy.” Joel doesn’t budge, ignoring the double whammy insult, head turning back at the hush of wind sweeping between the crumbling buildings. He turns his light off, securing it between his belt and waistband on the back of his hip. You know he knows there’s some truth to your words with how he ignores them. A habit of his you picked up, silence in the wake of begrudging agreement. Never voiced lest someone overhear that he had his moments of amenable tendencies, even if they were very rare and far between.

“Could be.” You insist, you knew what you were doing. You knew how to get the damn job done and if he heeded your words even once, he would realize it could make the situation go a whole lot smoother than it had been. But of course he doesn’t, he’s as stubborn as you are. Something you loathe about the man who had become one of your partners. It was hard to trust him when he didn’t trust you, constantly at odds with the gruff way he insisted he knew better. It was beginning to get on your nerves, the days harder when you had to interact with him in such close proximity.

“Could be isn’t good enough.”

“Do you need a blowjob or something?” You turn slightly to face him, his strong profile highlighted by the dark golden hues of the setting sun.

“Excuse me?" He pinned you with a dark glare, not taking kindly to your question. He’s chest to chest with you now, hard expression aimed down at you as you don’t move an inch. You wouldn’t back down, never had before and wouldn’t now. He may be intimidating, but you were too in your own ways. Hell, the first encounter you had with the man ended up with your knife at his throat and your knee over his crotch.

Him and Tess had been in your apartment, staking out the smuggling ‘competition’ once they had arrived in the Boston zone. Coming home from a rather painful migraine after shoveling ashes of deceased people had been one of the highlights of the day, if such a thing could even be considered that, only to find two strange people rummaging around through your things. Joel hadn’t been prepared for you to turn on him first, thinking he had hidden himself well in the shadow of your door and following it as you slowly closed it behind you.

A warning shot fired off at Tess had her scrambling behind the beat-up couch in the middle of the room while you turned on him. Only after demanding answers from them and getting them from the woman as she crouched behind the furniture, had you backed down from a stoic Joel.  

“You heard me. You're pent up and snapping at everyone, need some relief?" Tilting your chin up, you meet his dark gaze head on, smirk pulling your lips up on one side. His eyes dilate just the slightest bit before narrowing, but you caught it and he knows you did. His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard as he slowly responds with only one syllable.

“No."

"I think you do. Don't think I haven't seen the way your eyes drag down my body when you're walking behind me.” A bold statement, but a true one nonetheless. His eyes were a heavy and heady weight whenever they did exactly what you taunted. The thrill of the older man merely looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t see it perked up your self-esteem in a way you weren’t completely immune to, even in the shambles of what the world had turned into.

"Delusional. you're a delusional little-“

"I’m not a little girl, and you damn well know that." You punch the tip of your pointer finger into his chest, the dirty denim warm from his body heat. He’s a big man with a big reputation and it’s hard not to feel powerful as you obviously found one of the weak spots of his soft underbelly. An attack dog, a guard dog, a rabid dog, they all had one thing in common. They were only as strongest as their weakest point.

And you think you just found his.

The mischief of the unexpected discovery must glint in your eyes because his brows furrow impossibly deeper. The frown lines around his mouth pulling his thick mustache down, though it does nothing to shield the pale pink of his full lips.

He scoffs again, a harsh sound from the depths of his chest. Smacking your hand away from him, he takes off to follow the trail he can see a little better now that you’ve pointed it out.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Act like you’re hot shit around the zone, only reason people don’t mess with you is cause of me.”

“I was doin’ just fine on my own. Remind me again, who staked out who to scope out the competition?”

“Wouldn't let you touch me if I was at the end of a barrel, and it was my saving grace."

“Fuck off, Miller.” You spit back, unable to rise to his taunt even as you fall in line beside him. That one stung, you had to admit. It was your own stupid fault, for finding him so attractive. From his dark hair threaded with silver to the way he carried a lifetime on his shoulders.

But his attitude muddied it, he was no better than a lot of the men you had run into before reuniting with your brother. The end of the world bringing out the worst in people, just like you had never one to sling insults so harshly or tease people easily a decade older than yourself who could snap your neck with a well-placed grip. Just like you assumed the man Joel had been before all this wouldn’t have even dared to think of talking to a woman with such spite and malice, if his faded accent told you more than he ever would.

The trail ends just at the shattered glass of what was once a revolving door entrance to a skyscraper looms ahead. There’s fresh blood splatter and the bag of supplies stolen from where they had been hidden for you and Joel to pick up. Two shells from a gun lay on the ground beside it, and you quickly grip your handgun to survey the area for the culprit who fired the shots.

Joel holds up two fingers, your attention going to him almost instinctively as he motions for you to crouch and round the left side of what remains of the door and into the building after the drops of blood. His eyes are focused, his full lips a hard line as he nods once to make sure you understand him.

Only looking away once you return the gesture. He turns so his back is to yours and makes sure there’s enough coverage for you both with his own gun at the ready. As quietly as you can manage with what’s still hopefully inside the pack, you pick it up with your free hand and avoid as much glass as possible.

No shots ring out, no bullets lodge themselves into your shoulder or Joel’s, everything is eerily still as you both move in tandem to seek the protection of the building. It seems to be blocked off inside, large pieces of plywood secured over the doors that had once been for elevators. The emergency exit off the right barricaded with all the furniture that once filled the ground floor waiting area.

“Fuckin’ told you it was a trail.” You mumble as the conflict seems to be over, the body of the man who had taken off with your hidden pack behind the front desk. Fresh blood seeping from a gunshot wound to his neck and the bandage wrapped thick around his ankle. You don’t flinch when Joel brushes past you harshly to stomp the bottom of his worn boots into the man’s head or the sick crunch that echoes slightly in the open space. Ensuring he doesn’t turn if he had been infected.

He rounds on you quickly enough to stir your instincts, the fleeting fear of him doing the same to you flaring up and making you take a half step back at the fierce look in his eye. The words he practically growls at you making your heart stutter painfully in your chest, suddenly breathless at the combination.

“Would you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you? Tired of hearing that shrill voice all the god damn time.”

You huff, trying to play off the fear as indifference, shoving the bag of supplies at him. He doesn’t move to catch it, allowing it to hit him square in the chest, the pills and bullets contained inside rattling as the entire thing fell to the ground with a thunk.

Joel could only watch as you stalked off without another word, shoulders tense and hands shoved deep in the pockets of your jacket. He had seen the dilation of your eyes, the way your chest had risen with a quick inhale at his intensity. He had scared you.

That was new and he wasn’t sure if he liked it any better than you teasing him about being uptight and needing a little bit of pleasure in his life. An unpleasant lump rises in his throat and he tries to swallow it down.

Frowning, he bends to pick up the fallen pack, shoving it into his own nearly empty one before following after you. The silence that had fallen allows him to pick up the faint sound of labored breathing. But it isn’t coming from you up ahead.

It must’ve registered as a third person in the same instant for you because you’re turning to him with a finger pressed to your lips as you crouch behind a chunk of blasted concrete, gun already in hand. He mirrors you, reflections of each other as you each move around the barrier and take an assessing peak around respective corners.

Another man is laid out a few yards away, upper body slumped heavily on against the tire of a rusted car.

He’s barely alive, his breath rattling in his chest at a timbre that could only signal his impending death. A stark sound he recalls from a time long ago, both painfully fresh and numbed by years of oppression. He blinks the sound away, eyes closed for barely a second before you’re closing the distance with quick and quiet movements. A lunging dog at the sight of a threat. Constantly poised to take out anything that challenged the life you clung to.

It’s a reminder of why he willingly works with you, the way your smaller hands close around the man’s neck and clench. Shoulders displaying the strength you possess even with rationed food and improper amenities for life. If he wasn’t on your side, you would turn those same hands on him without a second thought. You had the first time you had met, when he had willingly gone into the den you had created for yourself in search of answers. In search of the name people gave when asked about who had the most knowledge on how to sneak out of the zone he now resides in.

He watches as you pick the man’s corpse clean, ration cards going in your pocket that he doesn’t think to demand a fair share of. Of the gun you hold out to him in silent offer.

No words are exchanged as you lead him back to the perimeter of the zone as the sun dips completely below the horizon. Moonlight illuminating your body effortlessly slinking and squeezing into places you had picked out that would allow for him to do the same with little trouble. You knew the operations of the zone, hell you probably were the reason some of them were orchestrated the way they were. The fear he had seen in you may have been fleeting, a response that allowed you to recognize the threat he could pose to you as well, but the way he admired your will to survive was not.

You only stay at his side long enough to relay the run to Tess, who had stayed behind and worked to ensure an alibi for you both. Signing your names and hers with one of the soldiers who traded with you on the roster in a perfect imitation of keeping up appearances for the demanded duties of all that reside in the zone. The ration cards slid into your back pocket are handed off to the older woman, no words or sounds coming from you before you slink out the door to their shared excuse of an apartment and down the hall to yours.

But he knew better than to think it was with wounded pride and your tail tucked between your legs, because he could hear the way you moved about your own space through the thin walls as if it had just been another day. Tess is watching him as his head tilts where he slumps on the couch, ears following the shuffle of your steps and the sound of clinking as you go about your own business. When he turns to meet her gaze, it’s unreadable but she doesn’t ask the reason for his short run down of what happened or the silence you had fallen into.

next chapter

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @orcasoul @itsokbbygrl @keylimebeag

@n7cje @hiddenbabynyc @ameagrice @everythingiwanttoread @furiousmushroom

@vivian-pascal @76bookworm76 @dugiioh @jellybeanxc @littlemisspascal

@undercoverpena @janaispunk @jessthebaker @persephone-girl

@corazondebeskar @harryscum @morgaussy @burntheedges @pascalpvnk @cavillscurls

[daffi-990]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz & @jamespearce9-1-1. Thank you lovelies 😘. Be sure to check out what they posted (James posted a steamy kilt sex fic 🔥🥵)

Haven’t written much in the last two days due to the death of one of our dogs, so I’m posting a snippet from when your heart releases, you won’t fall to pieces that I’ve already shared before (you can find it here) but it’s been reworked.

“He needs me, that’s all you need to know.” Buck tries to hide the irritation in his voice at Taylor’s prying. Why can’t she just accept that Eddie needs him right now? Isn’t that enough? Why does she need to know more?

“He has other people he can lean on, if he really needs help. Why does it have to be you?”

“Because I’m his best friend. And I want it to be me. I want to take care of him and Chris. They’re family and that’s what family does.”

“What do you know about family?” Taylor sneers, her top lip curled in a cruel snarl Buck hasn’t seen directed at him before. Her words are like a gunshot, the bullet easily finding its mark.

Buck feels the impact amongst the cracked and bleeding parts of his heart, Taylor knowing exactly where to aim to cause significant damage. He opened up to her about his parents, about Daniel and how he felt like he never really was a part of the Buckley family, and now she’s here throwing all of it back at him with sharpened points. The irritation and frustration that was bubbling inside of Buck morphs into anger as he fires off a shot of his own that he knows will tear into her and hurt.

“What do you know?”

Taylor flinches as if slapped and Buck feels a small sense of satisfaction that he was able to hurt her with the very words she’d used to strike at him, before guilt washes over him like a bucket of cold water. He’s no better than Taylor, using the knowledge of her issues and struggles with family (or lack thereof) that she trusted him with to inflict a wound. You aren’t meant to do that to the person you love.

They stare at each other, breaths loud and heavy in the silence that stretches out between them. Buck knows silence isn’t the only thing lingering there. They’ve been drifting apart for some time now, but Buck didn’t want another failed relationship to be added to his baggage so he clung to the good moments that were becoming far and few between.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @callmenewbie @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @evanbegins @princessfbi @athenagranted @sibylsleaves @shitouttabuck @devirnis @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @fcntasmas @glorious-spoon @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @captain-hen @clusterbuck @bekkachaos @nmcggg @steadfastsaturnsrings @mellaithwen @missmagooglie @monsterrae1 and as always, anyone else who would like to share something ❤️

[evilkaeya]

POSTED THE SKK ELOPE FIC (HERE) IF YOU READ IT AND LEAVE A FEEDBACK I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER MWAH BYE NOW

[sickficideas]

dazai having to use mobility aids post jail arc is so important

i so so agree with this and I really wish we'd see it but I have a feeling we won't 😭 but I will think about it either way...Kunikida and Kenji rearranging the office to make it easier for Dazai to get around....Dazai is very quietly frustrated about it so Kunikida tries to keep his attempts to help on the down low...Dazai knows they've done this for him but Kunikida is like no no this is for fire safety. and Dazai is like hm.....

Dazai deals with chronic pain for a long time after but he won't admit it. sometimes it's too painful even with the mobility aids and Kunikida is always looking out for him...if someone will ask Dazai to run an errand and he's having a hard time with the pain, Kunikida will always go in his place, even if it messes with his schedule. it's not worth putting him in more pain 💔

[johnslittlespoon]

chatper fourr..r.. done

[psychotic-nonsense]

------ TW For Body Horror ------

The Party was going to find out about The Board soon enough. Best it be by Vecna's own hand.

He launched each of his Generals individually over the past few weeks, allowing them to freely attack the useless military and letting their presence haunt the town's civilians. Taking care to keep The Party away from witnessing or interacting with the destruction.

He briefly gained control of one insignificant journalist, ordering it to document each of his Generals. Takes information from both his own intentions and The Imprisoned's explanations and discoveries. Orders it to lure in the two main researchers from The Party with it, and to hand all of the information over.

As the exchange happens he turns to the others. Left behind somewhere in the town, weakened and exhausted in mind and spirit. It's the last part of his plan, to show The Party themselves the control he holds over those they killed and abandoned.

And there is only one who will believe him outright.

------------

Close ups)

The Innocent: those who died simply for being near The Party at the wrong time

The Ignorant: those who died fighting against The Party's efforts to stop the Upside Down

The Intellect: those who died fighting for The Party's survival

(Vecna's Generals Info Page)

[kyouka-supremacy]

Me, opening a fic with a big “major character death” warning stamped on it: wow I sure hope nobody dies in this

[sodascollection]

Slick iron invades his lungs, Jouno pays it no mind. Pins are stuck deep within his skin, continuously crinkling and pinching the muscle beneath. (Perhaps this is how served justice felt?) every twitch and slight shift of the fabric of the uniform he wore shot sharp pain through his nerves. He doesn’t know where he is going. He continues walking.

He doesn’t adjust the weight on his soles. clomp clomp. The sound takes up a painful amount of space in his ears. clomp clomp.

—

—

familiar footsteps clunk just about the corner or around the next hallway, frenzied.

Jouno contorts into a grin, wide. Nearly unnatural.

Tecchou is the first to notice, he is the first to see after all. The uncanniness.

“Where is it?” Tecchou prods, breathlessly.

“hm?” Jouno replies, quickly.

“Your cap, and your cape?”

[causenessus]

i’m so happy you liked the hinata fic 😭😭 and the fact that YOU reread MY fics?? LITERALLY GOING CRAZY RN

i’m taking this as the compliment of all compliments omg and my own category?? crying real quick just so you know <33

PLEASEEE OH MY GOSH I'M CRYING WITH U!!! YOU WERE ONTO SOMETHING WHEN YOU SAID WE WERE MORE LIKE TWINS THAN ATSUMU AND OSAMU!! THAT'S OUR DUO NOW <3 I'M MAKING THAT A TAG OR SOMETHING AT SOME POINT BUT YES I LOVED THAT HINATA FIC!! wyr I said this before but your works are just so comforting omg yk I just kind of fully pieced this together but do you remember when I decided you were a fae and everything in that game about what mythical creature you see your mutual as?? your works all feel so comforting and earthy in the same way. i'm such a color person and this is obvious but I just get the green, brown, earthy tones kind of colors in my mind whenever I think about your works OMG IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE NOW your works just feel like such a solace 😭 like going out to a forest in the early morning when it's still foggy and the smell of rain is still in the air from a heavy storm last night ❤️ and just sitting there against a tree and reading and being calm and at peace ❤️ that's what your works feel like. AND THEY'RE LITERALY HEALING AAA I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH YOU'RE AMAZING this is also a really random comparison but your works and you remind me of this youtuber named aameliaa who makes these really cozy and cool playlists I've stolen so much of my music from her and her playlists are always such a comfort for me and I listen to them when I can't focus on anything else so just know this is a huge compliment 😭😭 I just wanted to mention her in case you somehow happen to have also listened to her I'm sorry this is so long 😭

[bunisher]

WHERE IS MY DOG MOTIF FRANK POST???? WHY CAN I NOT FIND IT?!?!?!!!

[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter 2}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader, brief mention of Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: You set off to scout for a meeting with the man Tess has been in contact with over the radio. Only to find out it’s two men and you know one of them.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv (mentioned), sexual acts, choking, oral (m and f receiving), dom/sub dynamics if you squint, joel is bossy, some 69 action (idk don't look at me), anal play, reader is snarky, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

*we have a nickname reveal, in reference to one of the most known guard dog breeds (cause i think i'm funny lol)

A/N: something possessed me and the next thing i know this chapter was on the word document. don't look at me, i have no clue what i'm doing 🫣okay, bye

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

It was dark, curfew for the zone only an hour off. The sparse streetlights illuminating the rather humiliating display of the street, outlined with bodies hidden in the shadows of stoops, of power lines chaotically spread out above, of the dirt and grime that seemed to coat every fucking inch of what the world had become. Despite the strict regulations of cleanliness, trash and debris from the ravage of bombs dropped on the larger cities lingered about. The roads barely maintained and only for the vehicles controlled by FEDRA.

It wasn’t the most sanitary of places to live, but you made it work for you. Clinging to life, even if it was a shadow of what that once meant. You tried not to dwell on that line of thinking for too long.

But you hummed a little as you felt the weight of a thick stack of ration cards tucked into your back pocket. This particular part of the zone was known for its more…salacious activity and trade. A place you knew would be ripe with rewards for very little work on your part. The feeling of drying spend wasn’t a comfortable one, as it stuck and hardened on the skin of your stomach and back. But it was a small price to pay for a months’ worth of food and the small smirk from Joel and Tess once you handed over some of the cards.

Earn your keep, that had been the only rule barked at you when first hashing out understands for your partnership with them both. Joel had seemed to stare into your very soul to get the point across, while Tess had been far more cordial, seeking you out after finding you to be one of the best scouts whose services were fought after. Before they had shown up in the dingy zone, you had been a free agent. A rather successful one on your own. Hopping from one smuggler to the next if their offers were good enough, but with those two it had all stopped. You were loyal to them now.  Circumstance and mild comfortability in favor of constantly watching out for deals gone bad or men who thought you were a part of them.

And you agreed to an even split if it meant they would watch your back. They had come to you after all, you needed a little more from the deal if you were willingly work with only two people as opposed to those who sought you out and who you knew would trade what you asked for. The timing of their arrival one of the few good things you believed to be whatever higher power existed smiling down on you with pity. The loss of your brother had been harsh, hung in front of a crowd and practically announcing to the zone you no longer had protection.

You could hold your own as well as needed, but the world was cruel. You had been offered less than satisfactory terms since his death, cajoled into doing jobs under threat of report and even the barrel of a gun or two. It had been a tough two years of trying to maintain your reputation, a few lives lost in the endeavor when you had been challenged in ways you refused to put up with.

The first had been a man who had taken it upon himself to be your new ‘alpha’, to watch over you and ensure you were safe under his vigilant eye. But his name hadn’t carried the same weight at your own, the nickname ascribed to you accurate for a once well-known breed of guard dog. When he had tried to force you to submit to him, you had torn into his neck with nothing but your teeth, hands tied behind your back as you woke to the man in your apartment once news of your brother’s passing had spread to every corner of the zone.

Another had been a woman who attempted to sell you out to the very soldiers who relied on you for narcotics. She had found herself thrown into a cell and once released she had come at you with a knife while you worked a job around the city under the guise of falling in line with every other citizen. The exchange had ended with her clutching to the knife imbedded in thigh and you with a long red marks from her nails as she had screamed at your resistance to be taken out.

People had been willing to work with you, knowing the knowledge you had was abundant and the things you offered for trade were scarce. But as with everything, things had begun to dry up. The longer time went on, the harder it was to maintain the abundance of items deemed contraband or frivolous. But the stash you had hidden held on for quite a while. Posing as another version of yourself, you had stolen entire collections from people who were new to the zone and decided to try and work around you or shoulder you out of the scene. Not knowing it was you people were referring to when the name Cane was spoken until they took their last breath or mysteriously disappeared as soon as they had arrived.

Until Joel and Tess.

They had staked you out, gone into your apartment to get a feel for who you were but when faced with the consequences of their actions, they had been willing to talk it out. Someone must’ve warned them that newcomers who weren’t willing to play along with how things operated here disappeared or were found dead, a warning in and of itself for them. They had expected to just do recon, to see what you had going on with the aid of Tommy Miller down the hall as a lookout. A scout.

But they hadn’t known that’s what you were above all. Aware of your surroundings at all times, never caught without your guard down. Tommy had been taken out long before you had entered your apartment that night. The first signal that something was different. The younger Miller brother had gotten flustered at your approach, offering the man a night of pleasure since he was new and deserved to see what the zone had to offer. He had been knocked out cold before he could even answer your feigned advance. He often stayed behind, letting his two companions work alongside you while he tried to keep his head down and do as FEDRA asked. Something Joel said he was a fool to do, but didn’t dissuade him from.

He had revealed that his longer absences from the apartment they had been assigned, right beside yours, were because of his work with the group known as the Fireflies. Some members of which you used to do work with. Warning him of their willingness to cause chaos in ways they though were liberating but ended up being destructive and damning. But he hadn’t heeded your genuine words born of concern. Not wanting him to face the same fate as your bother. Joel had been even more difficult to work with when Tommy had disappeared one day with nothing but a note saying he was with a group of them assigned for relocation. He had been even more brutal since then not even a year after they had arrived, the sting of betrayal and abandonment needing to be let out somehow. And Joel Miller was capable of great brutality.

He also happened to be stepping out from a shadowed awning just across the street. An ununiformed officer slinking away with a tight grip on something in his hand.

The satisfaction of having just duped some poor suckers out of their cards shifted to something else, something akin to shame at being caught with muzzle in something that wasn’t yours to be had. You had hidden the…visits you made here from your brother, something you had done with you both first arrived in the desolate excuse of a zone. Lectured and pleaded with once he had found out, begging you to stop because it wasn’t what he wanted for you, what he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do. But you did and that was the stark truth. It was always something you could fall back on.

“What the hell are you doing?” Joel’s words were sharp, his chocolate curls tousled in the wind you had to shake the urge to reach up and tangle your hands in them.

“Conducting business. Same as you.” The words are spit from your twisted mouth, not liking the tone he approached you with or the hard glare that molded his features. What you were doing was none of his concern, you didn’t belong to him. You didn’t like how your body was responding to him lately, and you idly wondered if your finicky cycle was about to make a rare resurgence.

“The only business here is…” His eyes flick to the crumbling building behind you, a well-known house of pleasure. The man who had just been inside you exited and jaunted down the steps, pausing as he noticed the two of you staring each other down. When Joel’s eyes focused on him, he took off at a brisk pace.

“Yup.” You turned and started walking back toward the center of the zone.

“Didn’t take you for a whore.” Steps not faltering as he falls in line beside you, it’s easy to shrug off his slight judgement. It had only been a year of working with him, but you knew him well enough to know that if he really didn’t like something he would just silently brood over it. Whatever he was trying to do now, was simply get a rise out of you just for the sake of doing it. He was cheeky in his own way, even if it was always at your expense. But the same could be said of you, you always berated him for not listening completely to things you and Tess discussed.

“Well, this whore just earned all three of us a month’s worth of cards. Each.”

“And you’re proud of that, aren’t ya? Whorin’ yourself out for a little food.” He digs his claws in deeper, when he doesn’t get the reaction he was expecting. But it was late and you truly weren’t bothered by his words. He was right, you had just sold your body. It was your right as a woman to do with your body as you pleased and if it earned you something then, what? Shame wasn’t something you let yourself feel, not for this. The only negative thing about spending your time at the pleasure house was that you never left with the same satisfaction of your clients. The men weren’t there for that, they went for themselves and themselves alone.

“You took all the pills for your trades. Didn’t leave me much to trade with.” You throw back at him with only a slight uptick of volume, but your words held the truth. Tess had given him all of the pills from yesterdays’ foray into what remained of the city around the zone. You had been given the firearms, opting to keep them as part of your stash for the time being instead of trading them.

“You could’ve asked for some.” He’s looking straight ahead when you turn to see him a little more clearly in your periphery. His profile is strong, the hook of his nose and the fullness of his lips obvious against the streetlights.

“I don’t ask for things I can’t afford. Not from anyone and certainly not from you.” You can’t help the bite in your words, as if the idea of him willingly giving you a part of what he intended to trade was even fathomable. He may be the muscle of the group, the attack dog people kept their eyes on and ears on alert for. But even so, he also did nearly as much legwork as you did, if not more at this point. You and Tess working together to orchestrate the trades and caches of contraband to steal or loot.

“Fine.” He grunts, hands shoved in his front pockets.

“Fine.” You parrot, not willing to let him have the last word.

When you turned at the entrance of an alley, he didn’t see the shadow of the person lying in wait until they shifted. But you seemed to have known they were going to be there, because you were suddenly ducking beneath the person’s reaching arms and slamming their front to into the brick. The woman shouted out as her forehead thudded harshly against the wall, her arms twisted behind her back and tight in your grip.

“I told you last time, no payment no pills.” Your voice is threateningly low as you crowd against the woman who had tried to ambush you. Joel only watches, his gaze heavy on your back as you hold your own. Showing no mercy to the woman whose position you easily could’ve fallen into yourself. But you had stopped the excessive use, opting to trade nearly everything you could and only keeping a minor stash for yourself should you need to make a run for it.

“He-he told me to!”

“Don’t care, you come at me again, either of you and I’ll cut you in your sleep.”

“You would-wouldn’t!”

“Wanna try me?” You pull her away from the wall, the dull streetlights illuminating her bloodied and tear-stained face. “Go home. Find me when you have what I want.”

“Y-yes, I’m so sorry, Cane.”

When you turn your back on the alley, the woman running through the narrow space and out the other side, Joel is merely standing there with his arms crossed. Denim pulled taut over his broad shoulders and biceps at the stance. His lips are upturned a bit, his eyes dark in the fallen night, but it isn’t until you glance down at his waist are you sure of what he was really thinking.

The hard outline of him through the denim of his jeans is obvious. He had gotten turned on, aroused, and it sends a thrill of proud excitement through your own body. Whether it was from either seeing you walk out of a well-known pleasure house, beat up an empty-handed solicitor, or both you weren’t sure.

But you tilted your head back as you sauntered up to him as close as you could. Apparently, that was more than okay with him because you pushed your chest against his crossed arms, the soft give of them pressed to his forearms while you trailed a finger lightly over his zipper. The hinge of his jaw jumped, the muscle there twitching from the barely there touch, his brow furrowing as he looked down to catch your glittering eyes.

“Wanna take up that offer for relief?”

“Thought you didn’t ask for things you couldn’t afford.” His words are hard, though you see through them, through him. He wasn’t going to outright ask you, he never would.

“I could certainly afford to lose an evening spent prying open a can of too-old green beans if it means you’d calm the hell down a bit.”

“What makes you think I need you for that?” He cocks his head to the side slightly, mirth dancing behind his eyes as he notices he one upped you. Because damn if he hadn’t. You knew him and Tess were…whatever it was they were. The way he listened to her and made sure she had what she needed was first on his priorities from day one, it was obvious. A man like him seemed to need someone to look after, his purpose was her livelihood. And she was his. Even if they weren’t obvious about it, the signs were there.

The every so often thuds of their bed against the wall, the moans and panting breath that sounded as if it was in your own apartment and not theirs next door, the way Joel walked a little straighter the next day and Tess was a little more willing to go along with plans that didn’t have great payoffs with the argument that it was at least something.

It was something that was unspoken between all three of you, something Tommy had only brought up twice with you when you were both alone. He hadn’t been jealous, at least not in the way that made you feel sorry for him. It was because he didn’t see a point to it if it wasn’t genuine and if he had learned anything in the collapse of the world, it was that his older brother was all the things he never thought he would be. That he knew it was a way for Joel to feel wanted and useful, something he was jealous of only because he had once been someone who relied on his brother. Still had until the second he left, unable to handle the decline of the person he had grown up with and cared for.

You couldn’t fault him for that. Sibling relationships and dynamics were hard even when the world was good. The demise of someone wasn’t always of bloodshed, infection, or the quieting of their heart. It was sometimes the inability to recognize and the horror of realization that it had been a long time since you had been able to see them as they were. It had been too much for Tommy, you didn’t fault him for running. But it left you with the obviously bonded pair he had left behind and for that you cursed him.

Your own loneliness apparent when the only person you could call a ‘friend’ had left you behind too.

“Didn’t wanna fuckin’ touch you anyway.” Voice level, you realize you weren’t in the mood to play with him now his harsh denial floats in the thick air between you.

The combination of your melancholy thoughts and Joel’s words stings and you turn away from him, boots barely guiding you away before your arm is in the man’s grip and he’s turning you back to face him with a harsh jerk.

“Hey, that wasn’t a no.”

“Sure as hell sounded like it to me.” You try to yank your arm back from him, to put as much distance between you as possible, only he tightens his grip.

“Don’t offer shit if you’re not gonna follow up.” He reprimands, voice low with the edge of a threat.

“Go find Tess.” You feel your lips curl around the woman’s name.

“Don’t want Tess.” His words shouldn’t have the effect on you that they do. But the dissatisfaction of not finding your own release hits you like a weight. The visits you made to that part of the zone always disappointing in that department. Your pleasure was never the goal. Your body begins to hum at the implication of them, at the implication of him wanting you.

“Too bad, you picked the wrong moment to feign disinterest and I don’t wanna play with you anymore.”

“That all it is, playin’?”

“Only thing it could be, you don’t seriously think I want you, do you?”

“I think you’re afraid to admit you do, yeah.”

“I could go straight back to that pleasure house and get what I need.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t what you want. ‘Cause I’m standing right here.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Turning your back on him, you ascend the few steps into the main floor of the apartment building. He’s right behind you, the heat of his body only a few steps of distance away. He manages to keep up as you quickly scale the stairs up to the floor your apartments are on. The sensation of being chased prickles your skin into goosebumps, it raises the hairs on the back of your neck and makes your cunt throb in anticipation of being caught.

“Think you wanna be full a’me, otherwise you wouldn’t offer so damn much.” The thought sends a spark of arousal straight down your spine, igniting the smoldering kindling of your earlier activities as you finally step onto the flattened floor of your hall.

“Just tired of being around you when your dick is doing all the thinking. Makes it so I have to do twice as much work to keep things going smoothly.”

“Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.”

“No. Told you I don’t wanna play with you anymore.”

“Too bad, cause I ain’t done with you.”

“Joel, I swear to fucking god-“

“You gotta learn to shut that god damn mouth when you’re ahead, darlin’.” Before you could blink, your back is being pressed up against his door. One of his thighs are between your legs and pressing up into your aching core, one of his hands is tight around your neck, pinning you between the hardness of the door and the strong line of his broad body. His eyes are looking between your own, his lips part to speak again but it isn’t what you were expecting.

“You scared?” He asks in a low voice, vulnerability and concern swirl in a shadow curling behind his words. He was making sure you were okay and really wanted this and the thought makes your body shiver. The thought that he wouldn’t truly engage with you this way if you didn’t want it is the bare fucking minimum but it rounds out into another full glimpse of the man he is, of who he used to be.

His other hand snakes around your waist once he’s got the door unlocked and it’s no longer holding you up.

The door is kicked shut behind him, the slam echoing through the hallway enough to insight a few shouts of dismay. But his focus is on you, only on you. His hooded eyes dark as he takes in the dilation of your pupils and the hitch of your breath as he corrals you toward the bed. Definitely not scared.

“Only part a you that listens, huh?” He sneaks a pair of thick fingers beneath the waistband and finds you already so slick. “This all you?”

“Don’t let cum in me, if that’s what you’re askin’.” His fingers are the perfect pressure as they dip between your folds, and you hear the sound he makes deep in his chest even if his lips remain shut. A chip in his usual demeanor, a small flicker of that same weakness you had stumbled on the first time you condescendingly offered to blow him.

“Good.” He rasps. “Sit down.”

“Mutual relief,” He grunts as he senses your quiet confusion, the heat of his intent rises up your chest and over the apples of your cheeks, brows furrowing as it doesn’t quite compute. Confusion gives way to a spark, that low simmering heat thrumming in your body catching fire and licking across your entire body. “That’s how we’re gonna do this, y’hear me? Won’t leave you like those other men. Now sit.”

You do, heeding the command as you attune to him, body jostling as you set yourself on the edge of his shared bed, everything else a blur around him. The apartment is barely illuminated by the streetlights trickling in through the sorry excuse of curtains still pulled back on the window. Just enough light to see him, to see how big he is as he begins to kneel before you, hands reaching for your jeans. You can only watch as he undoes them and peels them from your legs, the only pair you have that have molded to your body from years of relying on them. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he tilts his head up and your completely naked from the waist down.

“She’s gonna be back soon.” You don’t worry about getting caught but you’d rather not have an audience for the submission you were too weak to resist. Body responding to him with an intoxicating ease, the curiosity if what he means by mutual relief too much of a temptation. If there was anyone who was worthy of it, it was Joel, even if you loathed basically everything about him. Too similar and too rife with the same qualities and tendencies for violence, too much of a mirror of who you were at the very core of your soul.

“She’s busy setting up the meeting for tomorrow,” He’s suddenly standing, his own clothing being peeled away to land on the floor with your own. His chest is dusted with the same dark brown atop his head, his skin the same bronze of his forearms and weathered face. The rest of his body is just as beautiful as the parts you’re allowed to see. But now all of him is on display, languidly laid out atop the bed as he grips his impressive length in a fist, pumping once before he’s reaching for you.

He manhandles you to straddle his stomach, your slick shining on his hot skin as you’re suddenly face to face with his dripping cock. And it’s so beautiful you can’t help the moan that crawls it’s way up from your ribcage and past your lips as lean forward to grip him with a much smaller hand than his. He’s so thick you can barely wrap your hand around all of him, something he chuckles darkly over as you feel one of his palms land with a sharp slap along your ass. You know he’s watching the ripple of your skin, the irritation of his action spring to life on your skin, the goosebumps that chase the shiver that runs down your spine and you feel yourself flutter around nothing.

“I said,” He gripped your hips painfully tight in his large hands, blunt nails digging into your flesh and pulls you down completely. His nose bumps into your puffy clit and you can’t help but cry out at the bolt of pleasure that rips through you. “Sit the fuck down.”

You were gone before the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, just the hot breath from his perfectly pouty mouth was enough to make your body sing. When the wet heat of his tongue licked through your folds, your eyes flutter shut at the scintillating feeling, his palms are wide across your cheeks as he pulls them apart to see all of you and you gasp at the wet sound. You feel your skin pull and you’re keening out a pathetic sound as his nose bumps against the puckered hole previously hidden from him. The fire coursing over your body, trying to catch the air of the room outside your body to roar, it’s only spurred on by the feel of him, hungry and taking what he wanted from the most intimate part of you.

“C’mon now, use that mouth for somethin’ other than talkin’.” He takes a moment, the barest, to lean back and bark the words at you. There wasn’t anything mutual about you going limp in his grip and you feel the tug of humiliation at folding so quickly and forgetting who had started this whole exchange in the first place.

He’s teasing you. But two can play at that game, you think even as pleasure roils too hot through your veins. Gripping his proudly standing cock more firmly at the base, you lower yourself, back arching and thighs tightening around his middle and press feather light kisses to his ruddy, leaking tip.  

He’s surprisingly loud, from the rumbles you can feel vibrating deep in his chest, to the slurps of his mouth as it moves against you, to the heavy pants he breaths in an out when he dares to pull away from between your legs. He’s never this loud with her, and the thought sends a thrill through you causing you to gush around his tongue as it slips inside. You can’t help your own moan around the head of his cock as you swallow it down, swirling your tongue over him as you taste him for the first time.

The grunt that vibrates through your folds as you swallow him down is satisfaction enough. He’s heavy on your tongue, the slight curl of him as at the angle allows for the underside of his cock to nudge along the ridges of the roof of your mouth, his blunt nails digging into your skin. You feel the vein just as clearly and he throbs, causing drool to dribble down to his heavy sack.

His teeth close around your clit, nibbling there as you begin to bob up and down at a fast pace. He’s suddenly thrusting up, his hips canting at the sensation and you gag as he hits the back of your throat.

“Take it,” He husks, doing it again. You retaliate by pressing back against him, body flat atop his as you relax your throat for him to continue. The air is thick with the scent of mutual arousal, everything coated in slick and sweat, your plain shirt sticking to your skin as heat crackles in the stagnant air. The smell of him is heady, all musk and something distinctly him as your nose nestles in the thatch of coarse hairs that he doesn’t keep trimmed, the soft velvet of his sack so hot against your face.

You hum as he stills, his thighs shaking beneath your hands as you try to support yourself. He slips from your mouth and the heft of him slaps into your cheek as you cry out at the intrusion of a slick thumb. You feel his grin as he nudges the digit further into your puckered hole, a sensation you hadn’t felt before.

“Never had anyone in here.” He boldly preens, reading the way your own body begins to tremble as you gush, there’s no way he missed it being buried in your cunt. Your only response is to grip him with one hand and resume a brutal pace, breath barely squeezing through your nostrils as you take him as deep as you can again and again. It’s loud, it’s lewd, it’s intoxicating the way he slurps and licks, nibbles and presses. The scratch of his facial hair against your inner thighs lighting you up, building up heat and pleasure in your lower abdomen. He’s twitching, from his fingers to his cock, to the thick thighs beneath you.

It's brutal the way you’re pushed to the edge, the fire taking your body for its own, brought on by unforgiving pace matched by unforgiving pace. Two people still playing for dominance even as you both relish in the tantalizing pleasure of the game. He seems determined to get you there before he finds his own release, and you clench around him he pushes you over the edge, his tongue lapping up everything you’ve given him as you feel his own muscles tense, before he’s spilling hot down your throat at the feeling of your suppressed moan all around him.

Panting, you release him from your mouth, swallowing down everything he had given you in return. The tart taste of him something you never anticipated getting a taste of. Your thighs burn as you push yourself up, the overwhelming dribble of his saliva and the remnants of your release are obvious as your cunt presses to his chest. You’re sure he can see the small bubbles of it as your folds close together, hiding from him where he had just buried his face. He seems to disagree with the shift in position because you’re suddenly face down on the covers of the bed, ass up in the air as he drapes himself over your back.

His thick fingers effortlessly trace your slit, fingers sparking another crest as he plunges two deep into your still fluttering core. You can’t bite back the guttural sound that claws its way from your chest as he curls them and begins to press them against a spot that most men ignore. You feel the length of him soft against the back of your thighs, unable to get it up again so soon after his own release, but it’s like he knows he could pull another orgasm from your willing body.

You hear the crack of his wrist as he pounds his fingers into you, straightening them out for the tips to kiss that spot deep inside and you cry out when he finds it. Head shooting up from the bed as your back arches in a silent plea for more.

“There it is, feels good don’t it, darlin’?” His words are gravel in your ear, the burn of his scruff against your neck welcome as he pushes you over the edge again far too quickly. The moan that rips from you is loud, nearly a wail in its intensity. Something he’s guaranteed to comment on. But he surprises you when he buries his nose into your hair as you clench and gush around his fingers. Nothing but an answering moan of his own floats into the air.

As suddenly as he had been on you, he’s no longer pressed against you. The heat of his body gone in the slow blink of an eye and shuddering pull of breath.

He’s across the room with a creak of the mattress and a shift of the floorboards under his weight. The sound of the shower being turned on is the only clue as to where he’s gone when you turn your head in search of him. Your body is shaky as you move into a normal position, the one you started in, perched at the edge of his shared bed. You quickly pull on your socks, your jeans, stuff your feet into the boots he had unlaced and shucked from you in his haste. Your underwear is nowhere to be found and you don’t linger on what that could mean as you exit the apartment.

An hour later you’re slinking through the space beneath a stretch of chain link fence, pulling the board of plywood that settles over it as another pair of hands disperses dirt over it to hide the hole. Your mind is calm, but your chest feels like an overinflated balloon as you seem to hold your breath for far too long.

Only once the lights of the zone are a mile behind you, do you stop and let it all out in a heavy exhale.

“We leavin’ before the sun or after?” Joel breaths the words out on a heavy exhale, his heart beating fast in beneath his ribs. Tess takes a moment to catch her own breath before she grants him an answer, reaching over for the water glass sweating on the floor beside the bed. Her eyes trail over the naked expanse of his chest, fingers reaching to comb through the hair beginning to show the same threading of silver as the hair atop his head. He doesn’t feel anything when she does, his body satiated from the shared pleasure he had initiated in his half-asleep state after hearing people begin to stir all along the hall in the early hour.

Her breasts catch his eye, the way the jiggle and sway with her motions to slump back against the collection of flat pillows at the head of the bed. He idly wonders what you’ve got hidden beneath your own clothing and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he frowns. She turns to him, after her own eyes drag up his body, from the knee he props up to relieve his back a little, the softening bulge of him hidden beneath the sheet, to the way he watches her with something behind his eyes.

“Before. Cane’s already left. We don’t have the advantage of her helping guide us in person.”

“What?” He sits up, the sheet falling to hide his lap as his knee flattens.

“She left hours ago. Weren’t you paying attention?” Tess doesn’t budge, though it’s obvious that his reaction is unusual and he knows she’s thinking it.

“Stupid girl,” He mutters as he stands, the sheet falling from him completely as he reaches to pull on his discarded jeans. The belt clinks as he fastens it, but Tess doesn’t move at all.

“She can handle her own, Joel. You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“That’s all fine and dandy but this is a new trade partner. And you’ve been the only one in contact with them. Through the radio. Could be a trap.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to send out our scout into a potential trap?”

“Think we shoulda all left together, is all.”

“Why are you worried about her?”

“I’m not, don’t put words in my mouth.” He balks, unable to tame his anger at being scrutinized. He knows he’s acting out of character, but the possibility of there being a threat is real. If you’re really out beyond the parameters of the zone and well past the city limits there’s no where for you to seek cover.

“Joel-“

“Drop it, Tess.” He barks, unable to hide his frustration, to tame it as it flares as quickly and rapidly as a wildfire.

“Alright.” She pushes up from the bed, padding through their shared space bare as she gathers a clean pair of clothes and shuts the bathroom door behind her. Joel knows the scent of sex lingered in the stagnant air of the apartment, that she would be able to tell if was different from times before. Because it hadn’t been just him taking seeking pleasure, he had been doing so with you. As frustrating and bullheaded and downright petulant as you were, there was no denying the scent of you two tangled up that had encompassed the room in such a heady way.

Grunting, Joel rests on the edge of the bed. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he recalls the night before. He had been rash in his decision to take you up on your offer, the second in as many days, for some ‘relief to calm him the hell down’ as you put it. A line had been crossed but he was like a dog after his first taste of actual food, craving and hungry for more. Willing to get it at any cost and the want burns his skin, boils his blood, consumes him. You had been his for that small bubble of time and he feels the possession sear as it brands him into a different man.

He wasn’t daft, he knew you had soft spots beneath all that rough and violent exterior. Everyone did. But he hadn’t expected to obsess over how sweet it had been for you to roll over and show him, to submit to him the way you had. The way he had with you in return, even if you weren’t aware of it. But the obsession to have rid you of the smell of the other men that had touched you, marked you, filled you had been too much. He wanted them all to smell the lingering scent of him on your skin the next time you decided to visit that pleasure house. And that was the thought that didn’t sit well with him. You weren’t his beyond the activities of the night before. And he didn’t want you any more than a dog in heat, your supple skin and taunting words just the trigger to pull the desire from him.

There was no use for desire in what the world had turned into, crumbled into during the last seven years.

The last time he desired, he wanted, he truly felt, had ended in devastation.

It’s well into the day, the sun at its apex as the two of them come into view and your mind quiets a little.

They make such a good-looking pair, you can’t help but think as they walk through the brush into the opening that houses the remains of a quickie mart. You’re sat on the hard ground, the asphalt long cracked and dried, no longer upholding the meaning of its given namesake. Nothing was secure in this world, especially the things created and molded by the hands of man. Nature had taken it all back, destroyed what it didn’t like and infected the rest it couldn’t.

“They check out?”

“Yes, two men. Just like you said.” You stand, ignoring the crackling of your joints as you do so, aware that you look far less put together than either of them. You had been rash and immediately after your time in their shared apartment, unwilling to toss and turn in your own bed with your ears on alert for signs of the woman’s return. You had nothing against her, she was good once and maybe still wanted to be beneath it all. There wasn’t some unspoken rule that they were each other’s but you still felt like you had maybe crossed a line, the minute guilt making your stomach churn as you took in the effort she had put into looking nice for today.

Your mind replayed the feeling of Joel’s mouth on you and it brought a scowl to your face as you realized even he looked rather put together. They made a good pair, and you were just on the outskirts. A lap dog indeed, even if they had come to you. Fuck, it made you feel like the weak link, even if deep down you knew you weren’t. They were both smart, strong, cunning, but they still struggled to understand the ways in which you undermined and ensured different paths in and out of the zone. How you seemed to always know who had what to trade and how to get their supply from them with just the right trade offer or threat. They were good, separately and together, but you were better adapted to the zone’s particulars. Better at reading people, even if it meant you could read into your own actions and feelings just as easily.

“They’ve got the whole town secure. Electric fence, operated by one control panel and two remotes. It’s strong, has a sensor if anything touches it. Saw a squirrel get fried. They’ve laid traps all around, some are covered pits, really well hidden. Some are spring traps, a bear trap or two, marks are nondescript and someone not looking for them wouldn’t notice them.”

“But you did.” Joel’s tone drips in disbelief, not at your ability to gather all of the information but that you had practically fled the second he left you alone on the bed the night before to do so.

“Yes.” You don’t look at him, instead keeping eye contact with Tess. “They both around the perimeter in the morning and evenings, it looks like they’re doing it to keep in shape but one of them always has his eyes on the fence. He’s constantly checking for weak points, for repairs or modifications that can be made. There also seems to be cannisters hidden a few feet beneath the main posts for the fence, every fifteen feet or so. Piping runs down to them, I didn’t dig one up but it seems like they may have some sort of fuel. For either a deterrent of an explosion, which I doubt because then it would compromise the structure of the fence, or a flame thrower of some sort to catch people off guard should they get too close and trigger it.”

“You found all that out in just a couple hours?” Tess must share in the man’s sentiment, because her eyes rove over you. Seeing the dirt sunk into your skin, the ruffled appearance of your clothes, the bags underneath your eyes, the frizz of your hair barely contained in a messy bun atop your head.

“You left last night.” It’s not a question, it’s an accurate observation. Joel’s the one to bring it to light and you only nod in agreement. The timing of this new potential trade relation and the passage of time since they had first approached the zone all coming together in their minds.

“Today is…”

“Yes.” You turn away from them, not wanting to talk about it. Never wanting to talk about it, the reason for your loneliness in a world that couldn’t care less.

You hear them exchange words quietly between themselves as you step away to gather your pack, shouldering it and beginning to lead the way to the path that had been outlined for you to approach the town on by those within in. After another mile, all three of your are on a dirt path that leads directly up to the fence. The figures of the men you had spent hours watching over are stood on the other side. But as you get closer, one of them shifts from blurry to start detail. He must recognize you at the same time, because his thick brows disappear into his hairline and his teeth glint in the sunlight as a smile takes over his face, relief and excitement colors the air. Breaking the tension that bathed every interaction in the time of now.

“Bill, she’s the one I told you about!”

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @orcasoul @itsokbbygrl @keylimebeag

@n7cje @hiddenbabynyc @ameagrice @everythingiwanttoread @furiousmushroom

@vivian-pascal @76bookworm76 @dugiioh @jellybeanxc @littlemisspascal

@undercoverpena @janaispunk @jessthebaker @persephone-girl

@corazondebeskar @harryscum @morgaussy @burntheedges @pascalpvnk

@cavillscurls @joelmillerisapunk @copperhalfcent @blackcatgreengrape

@the-orange-tabby-cat @yxtkiwiyxt @punkshort @cumberpegg

@littlemisspascal @mosssbawls @luxurychristmaspudding

[celestair]

if someone doesn't write a friends/co-workers to lovers fanfic with kunikida where they slowly fall in love and care for eachother more than usual but dont realise they are actually in love until one of them gets badly hurt and then they start dating and its awkward at first but then its just the sweetest thing ever im gonna have to write it myself and trust me you dont want that.

[spilltheteawithlee]

the reason why i started to love jegulus and marylily more than jily is because i HATED how my absolute QUEEN lily evans was described in most jily fics. SHE DOESNT EVEN HAVE HER OWN TAG!!! SHE ISN’T JUST LILY POTTER!!! SHE IS LILY FUCKING EVANS AND THATS ALL SHE NEEDS TO BE !!!!

[teecupangel]

Once upon a time in the quaint village, there lived a young mail courier. He was known for his unwavering dedication to his job, delivering letters and packages with a smile to every doorstep. One day, an urgent message arrived at the village, instructing him to embark on a long journey to a distant town where a crucial post office awaited.

The mail he carried was no ordinary mail; it held the hopes and dreams of the villagers, connecting loved ones and spreading joy. The journey to the post office was not an easy one, as it spanned through vast meadows, dense forests, and treacherous mountains. However, he was determined to fulfill his duty, knowing that the letters in his bag held significant meaning to the recipients.

With a firm resolve, he bid farewell to his family and set off at the crack of dawn, his loyal horse carrying him through the countryside. Along the way, the courier encountered various challenges, from wild storms that soaked him to the bone to a broken bridge that forced him to find an alternative path.

As the days turned into weeks, he faced moments of doubt, but he never faltered. The thought of the smiles on people's faces when they received their letters and packages kept him going. Each night, he would rest under the starlit sky, reading letters from his own family for encouragement.

On his journey, he met fellow travelers who shared their own tales of hope and love, making him realize the profound impact his job had on connecting people's lives. With newfound determination, he pressed on, even through the darkest of nights and the coldest of days.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sight of the town appeared on the horizon. Exhausted but elated, the courier and his horse made their way through the bustling streets, guided by the townsfolk who welcomed them warmly.

The post office in the town was a grand building with ornate architecture, a symbol of communication and unity. As he entered, he handed over the carefully protected mail, knowing the importance of each letter entrusted to him. The postmaster was grateful for his perseverance and dedication, acknowledging the role he played in bringing happiness to so many.

In one of the letters is said: "what would happen if Desmond can turn into Eren's founding Titan form? Doesn't have to be an aot au. I bet it would be very funny lmao XD"

Alright, let’s talk about how we can do this. So we’ll give Desmond the Founding Titan’s powers but keep him in the AC world. (unless someone wants an AOT AU or a Desmond get isekai’ed to the AOT world AU)

So, first, let’s clarify what the Founding Titan’s powers would be now that there’s actually no… you know… Titan in AC (have spoilers for AOT, I guess):

The Founding Titan can create and control other Titans who are Subjects of Ymir. In this idea, you might think that means Desmond should be able to control those with Isu blood but I suggest a different idea: Desmond would be able to control humans in general but the more Isu blood one has, the harder it is to control them. (We’ll get to why we’re changing it this way in a bit). As for the creation part, since we’re not giving Desmond the ability to create Titan (I mean, we could), we’ll make him able to create ‘monsters’ instead. To be more specific: he can manipulate human genes and change them to whatever he liked, although it might be easier for him to change them lightly (like perhaps giving them the ability to access Eagle Vision) or to keep them more human-like (like say… a minotaur or a gorgon or a werewolf… if you catch my drift). This will also be the equivalent of the Founding Titan’s ability to change the body of the Subjects of Ymir (which, when you think about it, Titan creation is a subset of this ability anyway).

The Founding Titan can manipulate memories of the Subjects of Ymir. This means Desmond would be able to change or add or even remove memories of humans, even going as far as give them fake memories if need be.

The Founding Titan can telepathically communicate with Subjects of Ymir so I guess we’re giving Desmond telepathy as well.

The Founding Titan has the ability can influence the past in some way but it cannot completely change the past. It’s a bit complicated so we’ll set this up different with Desmond using one specific device: The Animus.

Of course the Founding Titan can only be used completely by those with royal blood so we’re making Desmond’s Isu ancestor be one of the Titan children of Gaia and Uranus. We actually have two main candidates: Iapetus whose sons were called mankind’s ancestors and we’ll translate it to Iapetus’ children being one of the Isus who helped humans during the war, turning their backs against their fellow Isus. Perhaps one of Adam and Eve’s children would marry one of Iapetus’ sons in this scenario. Another candidate is Hyperion who fathered the three children and lights of the heaven: Helios, Selene and Eos. Of course, we’ll pick Helios as Desmond’s ancestor to further twist the knife of Desmond dying from the solar flare or, if you want to be kind to him, we’ll give him Eos as a symbol of an upcoming dawn.

Now that’s done, we’ll talk about why those abilities might sound familiar…

They’re all ‘powers’ that Kassandra actually sees during her travels. To be more specific, she encountered mystical beings being controlled by Isu artifacts (that may or may not be Apple, we’re not completely certain that the Apple was able to change them or if they’re being used to simply control them after their change, the human experiments of Juno and Aita in Atlantis would point at the latter) which means that Desmond’s Founding Titan powers are powers that Juno and Aita were trying to recreate.

This is why Desmond’s Isu ancestor being Iapetus makes more sense because all of his powers are to subjugate and control humans, not Isus.

And then we come to the power to change the past which isn’t something that Desmond could actually do until he comes in contact with the Animus.

To be more exact, the Animus used by Vidic still holds the POE that he had used to develop the Animus in the first place because it was the prototype. The POE reacted to his Founding abilities that had been dormant until he got into the Animus.

And this is how Desmond would be able to change the past.

By connecting to his own genes, he’s able to contact and even control to a certain degree the actions of the people who share the same Iapetus genes as him.

However, we come to a certain… shall we say ‘snag’ in this idea.

Because Desmond has two different bloodlines that, as far as we know, does not intersect.

Altaïr’s bloodline that comes from his mother and the Auditore-Kenway bloodline that came from William Miles.

This means that we have to choose who would carry the Iapetus bloodline. Of course, it’s me, so you know I’m going to suggest Altaïr but I have another reason other than the fact that I will always choose Altaïr given a choice.

Altaïr is someone willing to make a deal with Desmond in exchange for the safety and happiness of his family. Once Desmond learned of the truth of Altaïr’s future, he could use the Founding Titan’s power to contact Altaïr and to help him change the past in exchange to being Desmond’s ‘prophet’. Using the Founding Titan’s ability to change human composition, Desmond could change Altaïr to be immortal until all their work is finish and Altaïr would agree to it. Desmond’s connection to Altaïr would give Desmond a direct way to change the past, slowly unraveling the entire road that the Isus wished him to walk.

The path that would end with a noose tied to his neck as the sun burns him away.

And, of course, we have the Founder Ymir being the ‘helper’ of the one who holds the Founding Titan.

And who else will we pick but the Reader?

The Reader who can see the past, present and future thanks to the Calculations but unable to change anything without a ‘master’ to command him.

And the truth was…

The Reader was able to tweak it.

There was a split second when Desmond Miles was able to use his Founding Titan powers.

But it wasn’t when he was first put in the Animus.

No.

It was when he used the device in the Grand Temple to save the world.

In that split second…

The Reader used that time to manipulate Desmond to making him order him.

“I want to live.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Please… someone… save me.”

He used Desmond’s desperation to live to set everything into motion. He changed the past just enough for Vidic to make the prototype have the POE, making him believe this was the best way to get clearer and more stable memories.

And from that…

The Reader set the third loop.

.

.

Just to clarify:

The first loop: AC canon with the Reader coming to existence

The second loop: Desmond Miles manages to awaken his Founding Titan power when he’s about to die and the Reader used that to change just enough things to make the third loop.

The third loop: the current loop with Desmond awakening his Founding Titan power during his first Animus session and, later on, making a deal with Altaïr to change the past using Altaïr as his ‘spokesperson’.

==== For the Alchemist Section ====

The mail courier’s perseverance traveled as far as his mail and it was now up to the local courier to make sure it arrived in its proper destination safe and sound.

Their little village rarely received mails before the alchemist took residence in the abandoned house up the hill and it had become part of his daily job to bring new mails and take the alchemist’s daily shipment but…

Things had been hectic around these parts. Harvest season was upon them and they had been so busy these past three months because of it. He knew that the mails were being delivered much later than usual but they haven’t heard a complaint just yet which was nice, especially with the heavy rainfall they’ve been getting lately. Everyone was quite worried for their corps.

Still, it was up to him to make sure he was able to deliver the ones that do manage to get to their village and send the ones the alchemist was able to finish in the midst of them helping with the preparations for harvest season.

But…

The chimney’s smoke was red.

The kind of red that reminded him of blood.

The alchemist made the weirdest things whenever they feel like it. The moving clay doll last month was one of them.

So…

He took a deep breath and prepared to knock on the door-

Only to gasp when he smelled the smoke.

It was because he was too close to the house. Even if the smoke was coming out of the chimney and dispersing into the air, it was still quite close.

His body…

… feels so hot right now.

He fell on his knees and began to pant, the heat seemingly coiling all over his body distracting him from the creaking sound the front door always make.

Then…

He felt cold air hit him like a puff of smoke.

And the heat disappeared.

Leaving only embarrassment with the way his body had reacted.

It was like…

“Sorry about that.”

He raised his head and…

… came face to face with a complete hazmat suit that covered the alchemist from head to toe. The only reason why he even know it was the alchemist because of the white and red butterfly brooch that they had always worn, now adorning the helmet of their hazmat suit like it was a hairpin.

“It would be better if you stay by the fence and shout instead. I’ll take my mail and give you my deliveries instead.”

The alchemist made a motion with their hand and he weakly stood, using his courier standard bag to hide his shame as he handed the alchemist the mails he had received today.

“Uuuhh… is it…” He looked behind the alchemist and the entire house looked alright from what he could see.

“It’s just for this week. This week’s…” The alchemist paused for a moment before adding, “… No. Next Monday’s quite special, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll have this done later this evening. Please come back by then instead.” The alchemist requested and he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll see you later then.”

With that said, the alchemist closed the door, leaving the courier unable to ask…

If they actually did not see his shame or if…

They simply didn’t care?

[johnslittlespoon]

without context, the ridiculous amount of dog–coded tropes i've included/plotted out to include in the dog–coded bucky fic so far:

old dog gets jealous of new puppy

twitching/kicking in sleep

fear of storms

looking like a kicked puppy

separation anxiety

sleeping at the foot of a bed

all bark, no bite

but also. lots of bite

dog waiting for owner to return home

shaking water out of wet fur

reckless and impulsive, chasing joy

lap dog

personal retriever, eager to please

all teeth and tongue and drool

go fetch!

acting up for attention

head pats

rutting/humping

guard dog

tummy rubs

dog tags

good boy!

muzzles

puppy dog eyes

tail wagging/tail btwn legs

scent things

newspaper

as a bonus:

owner gets jealous when dog likes new friend more than them :^)

if there are any others at the front of your mind you think could suit these sweet boys lmk! you can anon–ask it if you'd like :-) i still have lots of room to squeeze little scenes in while drafting and i'm sure i'm missing some obvious or niche tropes to include <3

also hoping to get a couple drabbles done later today bc i have so many asks waiting for me rn oh lord but we'll see (*・ω・)ﾉ

**also² thinking about making a fic on ao3 for my drabbles since i see a lot of people do that but i literally have 300+ brainrot/drabble posts atp LMAO so idk maybe

[anamelessdragon]

Status update -

The good news: We actually hit a seasonal slump in business at work, so even though I had slots open, my weeks weren’t filled to 60 hours, leaving some room for a small bit of fic writing.

The bad news: This means I still need lots of money, which means I’ve extended my 6 day weeks through mid October, and may need to extend it even beyond that if things do not pick up. So, I officially do not know when anything will be updated again.

The great news: After 4 vet visits, I’m finally satisfied and my little dragon dog is finally being properly diagnosed/medicated so she can age with as much grace as possible.

The uncertain news: She’s still going blind, but the cataracts are due to general age rather than underlying disease. If her other issues do not stabilize with medication, the opthalmologist does not want to risk surgery. If they do, she will be getting surgery in her left eye to restore sight. Obviously, this will mean another few thousand out of my budget that I will have to make up for, but that’s assuming she’s a candidate at all.

Conclusion: Fic writing still on the backburner, and possibly longer than I had planned, even though I’m picking away at it. It will especially be on the backburner if she both can get scheduled for surgery and business does not pick up until the holidays, because then we could be talking about 6 days a week through November considering my personal medical debt increase. I basically use most of my resources towards my own health and my dogs/cats right now, so all of my wind down/relaxation processes to deal with the fatigue from long hours at work are centered around them.