#and anyway I'm afraid I won't like it the same in a year...
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I ended up making two different compositions for Akutagawa's birthday edit and they turned out equally good and now I don't know which one to choose 😭😭😭
#I'm in trouble they both look equally good... I really don't know what to do ://#I'm tempted to save one of them for next year but that'd be... Idk‚ lazy? for lack of better term#and anyway I'm afraid I won't like it the same in a year...#Not to mention they're too similar since 6 out of 8 images are the same to the other‚ so it'd really come out redundant 😭😭😭#I'm sorry because I really like both of them and if I really have to choose one–#I'll probably end up posting the one I like the least because of thematic reasons™#Mmmmhh... Mmmmmmmhhh... I spent so much time on both of them......... I'm sad I'll only be able to post one#Another thing- can anyone advice me on the best time to post it?#I usually avoid posting in the morning (CET) because. well. Americans are sleeping.#Should I post it now when it becomes midnight in my country? (So in 31 minutes)#I'm afraid of posting it tomorrow noon because it'll probably be overflowed by the new episode posts...#If anyone has advices on any of this it'd be infinitely appreciated 🙏🙏🙏#random rambles
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Sort of nsfw? part 2 coming 🙃
Dbsf! Miguel, shocked when you come home for spring break to announce you have a boyfriend, surprise and rage filling him in almost equal amounts. Just in New Year's, he'd had you looking at him like that, that sweet gaze, soft and full of an innocence you do not posses. But now that look comes across your eyes when you talk about him, this barely-adult boy who, Miguel is sure, doesn't have the faintest clue about how to take care of you.
He spends hours listening to you talking about this teenage boy, twenty-something, who's probably unaware of how lucky he is that a girl like you has even looked his way.
He grits his teeth the entire time, trying to contain the rage within him. It all goes to hell the moment you two are alone.
You'd been up in your bedroom for a while, and then your dad went to buy groceries and asked Miguel to keep you company.
Boy, did he.
He storms into your room, eyes dark with rage, chest heaving with each heavy breath. You look at him, surprised, eyes going wide.
“M-Miguel? Are you oka—?”
“Don't you dare ask me if I'm okay,” he snarls, slamming the door shut after himself. “You come here talking about some-some kid?! After New Year's?!”
New Year's. How the fuck could you ever forget? You'd come home from college to celebrate. At the party, before midnight, you and Miguel had run into each other on the balcony, away from the crowd. Both of you tipsy, the tension obvious, neither could resist the temptation.
As the ball dropped at midnight, Miguel was already balls-deep in your soaked, puffy cunt. He took you over and over again in that secluded room, your gorgeous body spread out on the bed as you screamed his name.
Neither of you would ever be the same again.
“Do you remember what you said?” he demands, something in his voice growing soft as he towers over you in your bedroom now. “Do you remember what you promised me?”
You swallow hard. You can still hear your own voice, broken by moans, as you swore, “I'm yours, Miguel.”
“Yes,” you say softly, holding his gaze.
He bites his tongue, sharp canines digging into the soft muscle as he tries to keep himself quiet. He says it anyway. “Was it a lie?”
“What?”
He hears the disbelief in your voice; he knows you heard him. He asks it again. “Did you lie about it?”
“No!” you immediately say, shaking your head as you stand from your bed. “No, of course not.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing with a boyfriend?” he snaps, glaring at you.
You sigh. “I...” You bite your lower lip. It was fucking ridiculous. How the fuck were you supposed to tell him that you'd seen this guy who had looked a little like Miguel and you'd already been head over heels?
You missed Miguel. Joey was just...a stand-in. Someone to warm your bed instead of leave you thinking about your dad's best friend.
But how are you going to say that?
“I just...” You sigh quietly. “He's nothing to me. When he fucks me, it...it means nothing.”
Miguel starts seeing red when he finds out this kid is fucking his Princesa. He's on you in seconds, huge hands grabbing your hips. He sits you on your bed and leans over you, bracing his hands on the mattress. His lips are inches from yours, breathing heavy.
“He's fucking you?” Miguel growls, making you shudder as you feel the anger emanating off of him.
You swallow thickly. “I—He—Yeah?”
That's the last straw for Miguel. He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. Part of him is afraid—no, terrified, that you won't kiss back, that the same passion and need that was once there will be gone.
Instead, he finds you hungrier than ever. You kiss him back with almost as much want, desire pouring out of you.
You'd forgotten what it was like to kiss Miguel, to feel his mouth, taste him, the rough caress of his hands as he he starts tugging at your clothes.
You undress eagerly, needing him more than ever. His mouth waters at the sight of your bare skin, your perfect body all for him.
His cock is so hard, twitching in his pants as he aches to fuck you.
But first, he needs to taste you.
He gets on his knees in front of you and smirks. “I'm gonna give you a thousand different reasons to choose me over anyone else,” he promises, his mouth already inching towards your pussy.
You don't need him to give you any reasons for anything. You'll always choose him over everyone else.
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The day Guillermo slaughtered a theatre of vampires, Nandor looked up and actually saw him. 'My name is Guillermo de la Cruz' burned like a silver knife in his brain. And that's the day Nandor started rooting for him.
Making him a bodyguard, insistent that's what he was. Watching him so carefully. 'Push back. Break the rules. Talk about yourself. I can't do it for you. If I do it for you then you've already lost.' Guillermo slapped him and his eyes lit up. Guillermo fought him, and he only wanted more. Guillermo said 'I can kill you whenever I want, I choose not to,' and it's what he was waiting for.
Nandor stands at the train station, feeling awake for the first time in months as he considers all the variables. The normal bite won't be enough, not for a Van Helsing. He'll have to drink someone right away, just to be sure. Will it feel the same for him, to hunt a human the way Nandor's watched him hunt a vampire? Maybe if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot that Guillermo can do very easily, if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot Nandor can do, very easily, if-
(...he's not coming. Well, familiars have balked at less.)
--
It's such a genuine surprise when he reappears. Why everything happened doesn't matter, exactly; Guillermo doesn't fight to get any of it back. He's so angry, so ready to leave, and by all rights Nandor should let him. But all he can feel is the instinct to stop him. Perhaps if he has actual love in this house, something to fill the void... Maybe there's one more thing Guillermo can do for him before his exit.
It's a strange year. Guillermo is not in his service, so much as he's a friend charged with service. His mind is so pulled in different directions - raising the Colin-creature, helping at the club, buying his gaudy new clothes that aren't vampire-like at all. Talking on the phone, sometimes in the other language he speaks, sometimes in secret whispers Nandor doesn't try to figure out.
If Guillermo doesn't want him to know, then he doesn't. He can't begrudge him a life outside this house anymore. It's like Guillermo has remembered how to be human.
Maybe he has. Nandor takes him to fight, wants to see that fire in his eyes again, but Guillermo only wants peace. They never talk about him becoming a vampire. Guillermo doesn't ask once. At the wedding, Guillermo promises to always be there when Nandor is afraid. Nandor wonders what 'always' means to him.
When he meets Freddie, things click into place a bit. Nandor is happy for him, truly. Suspicious, of course - this is a stranger in their home, one who clearly doesn't know their secrets. But such a kind and engaging stranger. And intriguing, like a little secret corner of Guillermo Nandor has never been able to reach. Nandor has been so lonely lately, he keeps getting everything he wants and yet he's lonelier than ever -
Nandor fucks up. Nandor fixes. Or does his best, anyway.
Guillermo goes to London one day, comes home with a look in his eyes like something broken. They don't talk about it.
Guillermo is back to dusting. He sits beside Nandor and smiles, placid and friendly. 'So, what's next?' But he doesn't ask. And Nandor can't ask it for him. That's not how this works.
--
And suddenly, Guillermo is a million miles away. Suddenly, Guillermo would rather be anywhere than with Nandor.
He talks about being a vampire for the first time in a year, but there's a strangeness to it. A wariness. When they laugh at the idea, he doesn't push back. There's no fire.
Something is wrong, honestly wrong, but Nandor can't bring himself to think about it seriously. Guillermo still runs from even the thought of their orgies. (So it can't be what he's thinking of, can it?) Their first big crisis as a household in a while, their bodyguard is nowhere to be found. (Is he a bodyguard anymore? A familiar? A lot more like Laszlo's familiar, these days...)
'I'm not going to be around forever.' Well, fine. He can survive that. He's survived far worse, and so has Guillermo.
And Guillermo is not just here right now, but is alive right now - wonderfully, blessedly alive - and Nandor won't be forced to think about his death for a while yet.
The one thing he knows for sure is that Guillermo would never do anything to hurt him, to hurt any of them. And maybe that's why it never worked out. You have to do so much more than survive, to be a vampire.
--
When everything that happened becomes clear, when his rage fades to anger fades to acceptance, there's still responsibility. Responsibility to his familiar, responsibility to his friend.
And when Guillermo's heart is too full, and spills over whatever bloodlust he had, Nandor wishes he were surprised. Guillermo has iron in him but it's been forged into a shield, after all this time. There are no little leftover bits Nandor might have helped him shape into a pair of fangs.
Guillermo can feed a family, or defend one, or defend himself. But he won't kill unless he has to, and his own survival - or his own happiness - is not a 'has to'. Fine. Guillermo has fought for him. Nandor can fight, too.
His own anger still needs a more constructive place to go. So he looks at Guillermo's wretched sire - who never even wanted to be a vampire, and then made a vampire so thoughtlessly. Who hasn't come to see Guillermo, who couldn't figure out how to help him, who doesn't even know that he's in pain.
Nandor drives a stake into the heart of a vampire. And it feels good.
Maybe now, he can also be angry at himself a little less.
#i can't believe nandor's choices about guillermo were deliberate while *also* never intending to help him or give him what he wanted#but i love the idea of nandor actually seeing guillermo all this time#never *completely* and not always in the way guillermo needed#but still always watching him out of responsibility out of love#fandom: wwdits#otp: nandermo#what we do in the shadows#wwdits#nandermo#i am a meta gremlin
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𝙸𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚋?
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ N o t e ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ This is a little draft that I've been working on for a while. I'm so sorry for the low activity. I didn't feel good because of uni. I'm in my last year of university, and it's draining me mentally lol. Anyway, I'll try to post often from now on. I hope you like this! Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!
If you want to support/commission me visit my ko-fi page. Thank you!
dom
definitely has a choking and a size kink.
Is into BDSM. Has a red room, which he shares with you.
He loves when you are needy for his touch or for his cock. He likes to tease you before giving you what you want.
Office sex is on a daily basis since he is busy all the time and barely home. He’ll hold your ass up while he slams inside you repeatedly, filling you over and over until you feel like exploding.
He also has a breeding kink. For him, you’re a superior human being just like him, and he intends to continue his bloodline with a worthy partner like you.
Speaking of which, he is very open about his kinks and expects the same from you.
He loves when you're under him, all needy and whiny, with tears falling down your cheeks as you scream his name and beg for more.
He can be rough, but only if you want him to be. He is aware of his strength and doesn’t want to hurt you.
He likes to see your pretty face and the many grimaces you make as he pleasures you.
He loves to see your eyes rolling and your mouth wide open.
Something tells me he is a sub.
has a size kink and a phone sex one (because he is gone on missions for months, and when he misses you, he just calls you for that naughty time).
likes it when you talk dirty to him.
He is also into roleplay.
This guy tried to be dom for once and ended up using the safe word for himself because he was afraid of hurting you.
He is not into very kinky stuff, but he won't say no if you want to try something bold. Just give him a heads-up.
loves to please his mistress. He doesn't mind if you mark or scratch him.
loves to be called "captain."
Likes to go down on you. There’s something that turns him on whenever you moan his name or when your fingers are tangled between his hairs.
He loves when you come all over his face and smear his beard and chin with your juice.
switch
It depends on his mood,e honest. tbh
Likes the doctor/patient roleplay and has no shame in using the labs from his work.
You two definately fucked after getting rid of the las plagas. It's ironic that you moan on the very same chair you used to scream in pain.
He loves to have you on top, regardless of whether he’s a dom or a sub.
You keep tracing the scar on his chest with your fingers whenever you see it because you think it looks very sexy on him. It also turns you on.
He loves to give oral sex. He'll bury his face between your legs every time he gets the chance. He’ll eat you out on every surface possible and in every pose. Desk, operator table, bed, kitchen counter, everywhere
He loves when you order him around.
"Does my pretty mistress require my services?"
You can't work together because you'll end up fucking.
It's the pretty boyfriend that spits in your mouth.
Very possesive. If he sees someone flirting with you, he'll make sure to remind you to whom you belong.
dom
This man has no shame when it comes to marking you. He’ll leave hickeys in visible spots (neck, shoulder) and in hidden ones (waist, thigh, and ass, which is his favorite spot to mark).
Has a roleplay kink too. His favorite scenarios are either government agent/rescued civilian or government agent/secret spy (for obvious reasons).
You’re definitely fucking in his office from the White House. You’ve been bent over that desk more than over your own bed.
Likes to go deep, so deep that it hits your cervix.
While you’re bent over, he’ll pull you by your hair and bring you closer to his face. He’ll whisper dirty things to you, which will only turn you on more.
Leon loves when you blow on him, and moreover, he loves the sight of his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth. You’ll pull some sinful moans and whimpers out of him.
Likes to be called "Mister Kennedy."
Has a hair-pulling kink.
If not bent over his desk, he likes to have you on top of him. He’ll praise you for the beautiful work you’re doing. With hands on your thighs, he’ll guide your body as you ride him.
Switch
He has a punny mouth, and you'll have to punish him a lot. He doesn't mind, though, and sometimes he does it on purpose.
He'll have you sitting on his face for breakfast, dinner, and lunch.
He is extremely possessive, so when you come home, he'll make sure to remind you that you belong to him and him only.
Has moments when he talks very dirty and moments when you are his "princess."
"Oh, look at you, such a slut for my cock. You want Daddy inside you that bad, huh?"/ "Oh princess, you don't have to beg; I'm right here for your needs."
He will definitely slap your ass and will be very satisfied to see a red mark in the shape of his hand appear on your flesh.
It fucks you deep, so deep that your body goes numb and your toes curl.
He loves when you use him for your own pleasure.
Loves to make a mess, especially over your chest.
Is into roleplay
Can be very sweet, and aftercare is a must. He'll wash up the mess he made and massage your sore body.
dom
Has a knife and a size kink
Will pull out his knife and run the blade across your body. You’ll feel the cold blade running from your neck, between your breasts, or on your inner thighs. He’ll chuckle deviously while you squirm under his touch.
Likes to fuck you with his fingers. He loves to see how his fingers slowly disappear into your tight cunt. They’re thick, and you can barely take two of them.
He is a strong guy, and he enjoys pinning you down and pushing that cock inside you. Wall sex is among his favorites.
has a major praise kink. The slightest praise will get him over the edge, and he'll start thrusting like an animal inside you. He'll also become very vocal and demand that you keep praising him.
He loves when you struggle to take him.
He isn't that much into bondaje, but he won't say no if you ask him nicely.
He'll bite you and won't care if he marks you. He knows that you enjoy it, though.
"Just look how this little cunt of yours clench around me whenever I bite you. How interesting..."
dom
Will use his metal-bending powers in bed to make handcuffs or bend the metal frame to hold your hands.
Has a bondage kink, obviously. Likes to tie you up and show how helpless you are in his touch.
He also loves to tease you until you beg him with tears in your eyes to let you orgasm.
He loves when you get so desperate for his attention that you basically beg him to fuck you.
He loves when you climb on his lap while he works and then start to rub your cunt over his bulge.
"You'll have to work harder for that kitten."
Oh, this bitch
He loves when you give him a hug while he is at the desk. He'll occasionally stop his work to grab your hair and buckle his hips to fuck your pretty mouth.
He can be sweet, although that happens very rarely.
He loves when you make yourself pretty for him; he goes feral when he sees you in lingerie.
sub
He loves when you’re in control of him and tell him what to do.
When you give attention to his neck, he turns into a needy, whimpering mess.
Doesn’t mind if you mark him.
He plays it tough at first, but all that tough guy act disappears when you take him in your mouth.
Likes to be spanked and cuffed.
He loves when you mark him because he wants people to see that he belongs to you.
He can't get enough of your touch; he is addicted.
He can get clingy at times, but you don't mind. He is like a little puppy.
Definitely walked him with a leash around the house at some point.
Loves to give you oral. You'll find him crawling between your legs while you do your tasks, and he won't leave until you orgasm.
He loves when you pull his hair, and you'll hear or feel him moaning the harder you pull.
Tag-list: @lunarastrobabe@shadow-wolf510@skylar-todd@alewesker@rokurodokuro@brownsugarwrites (if you want to be added DM me 🤗)
#resident evil#albert wesker#chris redfield#luis serra#carlos oliveira#leon kennedy#ethan winters#karl heisenberg#jack krauser#wesker x reader#chris redfield x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader#carlos oliveira x reader#luis serra x reader#ethan winters x reader#krauser x reader#karl heisenberg x reader
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Christmas plans | Katie McCabe
Pairing: Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader
Prompts: "Is that a hickey?"
Warnings: Mention of reader not having a good relationship with their family, small mention of anxiety.
A/n: Despite the prompt and the warnings, this is overall just a very fluffy fic!
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k
All around you your teammates were sharing their Christmas plans. You were stretching before training, and the conversation about winter break came up, and everyone was excitedly sharing their plans to visit their families. You dreaded the moment you would be asked about your plans, because opposed to all their excited plans with family, you had no plans of your own. The reason you weren’t going to visit your family during the holidays is because you don’t have a good relationship with them. Since you were still rather new at Arsenal, not many of your teammates knew about this part of your life, though.
Inevitably the question was thrown your way by Lia. Your long time Ireland teammate, and best friend, noticed the panicked look in your eyes, and answered before you had the chance to. “Y/n, is joining me for Christmas. We’re going to stay with my family for a couple days.” You were grateful that the conversation continued after Katie’s response. You had known Katie for years, having met at the U17 team, she had been there for you almost every time that something surrounding your parents had happened.
After training you’re the last one in the dressing room with Katie, the perfect moment to thank Katie for her cover up. “Of course, anytime. You should actually come though.” With a furrowed brow you look back at her. “Oh no, it’s fine. I can just stay home. It’s a family holiday, I don’t want to intrude.” Katie packs the last of her stuff into her backpack, “I think you've spent enough time at the house to be considered family.” It's true, you had spent a lot of nights staying at the McCabe's when things got bad with your parents. “Mom loves you more than she loves me anyways, I know she would love for you to join us. Plus, I think it would be really nice.” So, like that it was settled, you were joining the McCabe’s for Christmas.
Gary was there to pick you up from Dublin Airport. You greeted him with a quick hug, before putting both your own and Katie’s suitcase in the trunk, letting Katie have a moment with her dad. The drive to their place wasn't long, so in no time you were hugged by the rest of the McCabe family that was currently home. “It's so good to see you, Y/n! I'm glad you could join us for Christmas.” Katie's mom excitedly shares, making you feel welcome instantly. “I wasn't sure where you preferred to sleep, I can make up the couch, Gary can set up an air mattress, or I can ask one of the kids that won't come home until Christmas eve if you can take their room for the time being? I'm afraid that the guest room is currently occupied by quite a mess, as we've been renovating a bit.” Katie goes in to hug her mom as well. “Don't be silly, mom, we can just share my room.” She looks your way to see if you're okay with that too. “Yeah, I'm fine sharing with Katie. What have you been renovating?” You knew that Gary loved showing off what he was working on. Like you expected he excitedly asked you to follow him, as he was pointing to everything he was planning on fixing. You listened full of interest, always having loved listening to people talk about what they are passionate about.
Meanwhile in the living room Katie gets questioned by her sisters. “So, does Y/n joining us for Christmas mean you guys are finally together?” Ella starts. “Y/n's here because she's my best friend. Also, what do you mean finally?” Her brow furrows slightly. “Come on, you can't tell me you don't like her more than that.” Lauryn continues, clearly sharing the same thoughts about the two of you as Ella. In response Katie just rolls her eyes and walks away, joining her mom in the kitchen. Leaving a smirking Ella and Lauryn behind, “She didn't deny it.” The two of them share a look, “So, we're definitely going to try to get them together before Christmas right?”
“Already done with your sisters? You only just got here.” Sharon jokes with her daughter. “They're meddlers, I did not come here for that.” Katie jokes back, as she sits down with her mom. “Not to meddle but-” Sharon laughs at the warning look Katie sends her way, “I always thought the two of you would make a lovely couple. I want you to find your own way, though, and of course I just want to see you happy.” Not a minute later you walk back into the room, deep in conversation with Gary. Katie takes the moment to pull you away, bringing your suitcases up to her room, and settling in.
It was already late, so you and Katie decided to call it a night, getting some well deserved rest after a busy few months. The next day you planned to go shopping with Katie, insisting on getting her family members presents of your own and not just sharing the ones that she had ordered to her parent’s home over the past couple of weeks.
You weren’t the biggest fan of shopping when a holiday as big as Christmas was coming up, with all the busyness that came with it but you wanted to get them something nice since they were opening up their home for you. Katie noticed the slightly panicked look in your eyes as you entered the mall, and reached for your hand. You squeeze it appreciatively, before intertwining your fingers with hers. She guides you around the mall, entering all the stores you want to check out. Having Katie close by helped a lot with your anxiety, Katie always knew how to be there for you in any situation.
When you got all the presents you wanted to get, the two of you settled in a little cafe. You were sipping on your hot chocolates, and watching the Christmas decorations around the mall, when two young girls walked up to you, accompanied by their mother. “Hi, we’re so sorry to interrupt but we were wondering if maybe my daughter's could take a picture with the both of you, they're big fans.” Katie stood up and greeted them, “Yeah, of course you can.” She beamed. You stood up as well, giving each of the little girls a hug. The mom got ready to take the picture, as the girls moved to stand in between the two of you. Their wide smiles didn't falter when they stepped away. You took a moment to talk with the girls, before they went on their way again. The mom thanked you for making her girl's Christmases. Both you and Katie love meeting fans, the young ones especially, as it showed you that what you were doing was inspiring young children.
On the way back Katie told you about one of the Christmas traditions her family had. “So, each year mum buys everyone a pair of Christmas pajamas, and we spend the evening watching Christmas movies.” You thought it was an adorable tradition. So much so that when you got back you had to fight to keep in your tears when Sharon let you know that she had placed pajamas for both you and Katie on Katie’s bed. You thanked Sharon before Katie pulled you towards her room, knowing how much you hated crying in front of people. Once in her room, you fall down on the bed. Katie sits down next to you, and you instantly reach for her touch by laying your head down in her lap. You let your tears flow freely, while she gently strokes your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” Katie asks softly. “Just that your family is so loving, and they’re including me in all of it. I’m not used to that, and the difference is a lot. It’s really nice though, they’re making me feel very loved.” You lift yourself up from Katie’s lap, “Anyways, we should head down.” Katie shakes her head, pulls you into her side, and falls down onto her back, pulling you along with her. “They can wait for a little bit.” You try to protest but when Katie doesn’t give in, you relax into her. Your head now on her chest, as she continues to play with your hair.
Once you feel ready to head downstairs, your eyes finally land on the pajamas that Sharon picked out. A pair of matching red flannel pants, along with two simple black t-shirts. You both change into the outfits quickly, before joining the festivities downstairs. The family pilled down in the living room, the table filled with snacks, and the first Christmas movie started playing on the TV. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into Katie, who instantly wraps her arm around you. The moment not going unnoticed by Ella and Lauryn, who share a knowing look.
The next morning you head downstairs in your matching Christmas pajamas for family breakfast. Today the family had plans to go to a nearby Christmas market, play some board games, and in the evening you and Katie were planning on going on a Christmas light walk. You had seen an ad for the event in the mall, and were very excited to go.
Right as you walk through the door post, Lauryn says, “Katie, what's that above you?” Katie looks up and you follow her gaze. You didn't see the warning look that Katie sent her sister's way. “Why is there a mistletoe?” Both Lauryn and Ella try to hide their giggles, while Ella says, “It's a Christmas tradition to kiss someone under the mistletoe, so I assume it is to spread the holiday joy.” with a slightly teasing tone. Katie looks back over to you, searching your face for what she should do. “We don't have to, if you don't want to.” You lock your eyes on Katie's, “I mean it's bad luck if we don't, right?” You joke back, sending her a smile and a nod, letting Katie know you're okay with it. Katie leans in and pecks your lips. “So, breakfast?” Katie says as she quickly turns around again, hiding her flushed cheeks from you.
Your morning and afternoon were jam-packed with family activities, and while you loved every part of it, your mind kept going back to Katie’s lips on yours. How soft they were, and how badly you wanted to kiss her again. Though, you had convinced yourself that for Katie the kiss was probably just for the tradition of it. You couldn't have been more wrong though, Katie badly wanted to talk to you about the kiss, but she hadn't been able to get you alone for a single moment today.
The first moment the two of you were alone that day, was on the way to the Christmas light event. The car ride itself was quiet besides the radio softly playing in the background, both of your minds running at full speed. Katie parks the car, and right from the parking lot you could already see lights all around you. While you were slowly turning to take in all of the beautiful lights, Katie’s eyes were fixed on you. “What?” You say while a blush rushes to your cheeks, when you notice Katie’s eyes on you. The usual confidence of the girl in front of you, replaced by nervousness. “Nothing, it’s stupid.” She says trying to turn away but you grab her arm and pull her back around. “If you’re thinking about it, it’s not stupid.” You seemingly convinced her as she took a deep breath. “Would you have kissed me if we weren’t standing under a mistletoe?” The question takes you by surprise, as you had convinced yourself that it was just you lingering on the moment you had shared this morning. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” Katie turns on her heels again, thinking she had her answer by the lack of your response. The action makes you jump into action, once again reaching for her arm. This time you don’t just use the pull to turn her around, you also use it to bring her closer to you. You lean in and connect your lips, smiling into the kiss, as you feel Katie kiss back. The feeling of her soft lips moving in sync with yours sent shivers down your body, while simultaneously making you feel warm inside.
After you pull away from the kiss, you look at Katie and see the Christmas lights reflect in her eyes. “In case that didn’t answer your question properly, that meant yes.” You joke, making her laugh. She playfully pushes you away, before stepping besides you again to intertwine your hands. You spend the evening walking around the lit up city center, enjoying every moment together.
You arrive back at Katie’s childhood home way past midnight, so the house is already quiet. She pulls you into the warmth of the home by your hand, only feeling you resist when you walk through the doorway to the living room. She follows your eyes up to the mistletoe under which you shared your first kiss. Katie takes a step back to stand in front of you, and wastes no time to connect your lips. The kiss started out soft and sweet, but quickly turned more passionate. Katie pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, “To be continued.” She says as she takes your hand once more and guides you to her room.
The next morning you wake up in Katie’s arms, a feeling you would like to never forget. “Good morning, beautiful.” Katie whispers as she places a kiss on your forehead. A wide smile forms on your face, “Good morning.” After sharing a few soft kisses, you get ready for family breakfast. The food each morning had been amazing, you were so excited for what Christmas would bring.
Lauryn asked if both of you wanted to join her on the pitch that afternoon, which of course you agreed to. It might be winter break, but football was a passion you would always take a moment for. You had been on the pitch for about an hour, when Katie decided to take her jacket off. "Is that a hickey?" Lauryn said loud enough for the whole town to hear. Katie sends a panicked look your way, you shrug your shoulders, knowing there isn’t anything you can do now besides mouthing a sorry her way. Lauryn followed the interaction, her smile growing wider. “Oh my god, it so is! I gotta tell Ella that her mistletoe idea worked.” Katie chases after her youngest sister, tackling her to the ground before she could reach her phone. “You and Ella are a pair of meddlers.” She said, shaking her head, as she helped Lauryn up. “It worked didn’t it? Mum’s gonna love this.” You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, realizing that her whole family was rooting for the two of you together.
On Christmas Eve the rest of the McCabe siblings, along with their partners and children joined you at the McCabe’s, and it wasn’t long before they all knew about you and Katie. You were nervous at first, not wanting the dynamic to change, but quite the opposite happened. They were happy for the both of you, and continued to treat you as family, like they had done the past couple of days.
All in all it was a wonderful Christmas with her whole family, lots of presents, amazing food, and company from the loving family. Katie was watching you interact with her cousins with adoration in her eyes, she couldn’t wait to continue creating memories together. The family got together for a series of group pictures. You took a couple of the McCabe siblings, and some of them all together with their parents, as well as Sharon taking individual ones of each of her children with their partners, and kids if they had them.
Katie later posted a collection with her favorite ones, along with the caption ‘Family time❤️🎄’. She added the picture Sharon took of the two of you, where you have your arms around her waist, as she places a kiss on your cheek. You posted the ones you were on to your own Instagram with the caption, ‘Thank you for the best Christmas ever❤️’.
It didn’t take long for the Arsenal group chat to explode upon seeing your posts. You were laying in bed with Katie, scrolling through the loving messages your teammates were sending your way after Katie confirmed that the pictures indeed meant that you were her girlfriend. That night you went to bed feeling happier than you had ever felt. Truly a high to end the year on.
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#katie mccabe#katie mccabe x reader#katie mccabe imagine#arsenal wfc#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal women#irewnt#lauryn mccabe#ella mccabe#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics
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✦ A LOVE THAT MELTS ALL
✧ william james moriarty x fem!reader
✧ summary: he's insecure of his scar but he has you. short fluff.
IT WAS THE NIGHT AFTER HIS RETURN; exactly three years later. the lit candle was dim, barely illuminating the bedroom that you and william shared and overall casted a hue of dull orange throughout the room.
you're situated on your heels between his legs on the bed, palms flat against the matress beneath and in the slight gap between your body and his own. william's back, which was already resting against the headboard of the bed, pushes itself even further back against it when you push your face upwards to him.
you're close. too close. he swallows hard, and you watch the prominent adam's apple on his neck bob.
“..darling? is something the matter?” he looks down at you. his voice is soft, confused and uncertain all at the same time. you're staring too hard at him to merely brush it off as 'observing'. applying that word here would be too much of an understatement.
“may i ask what you're wearing the eyepatch for?” your head tilts by the slightest degree, curious.
right.
right. william lets out a breathy exhale.
he hadn't told you about that part yet. with all the emotions and feelings upon his return, he really hadn't found the time to tell you. and quite frankly—he really didn't want to tell you. but he does anyway.
“i.. obtained a scar during my fall.” he clears his throat. “from the westminster bridge.” he watches as your expression turns into one of sincere sympathy. he hadn't even realised he was nuzzling his cheek against your outstretched palm, holding his face.
until you say the words: “can i see it?”
william freezes. you can only watch as his face dissolves into one of panic, widened eyes and a dry throat that he tries to rid of by gulping thickly. “i.. i think it would be in our best interests if i don't show you, and that you don't see it either.”
“but why?”
“why..?” he repeats weakly. why, you ask? it is because you're going to find me hideous. it is because i have done all that i possibly can for as long as i have known you so that you may see me as my best self and that revealing this ugly, disgusting mark on my face now would ruin it all.
“i'm afraid cannot show it to you. it is not a pretty sight.” he scrunches his face slightly and turns his face away from you, as if unsettled by the very idea.
“you must think of me a fool if you think that i care about aesthetics over my lover, liam.” you tell him, sighing with the back of your fingers caressing his cheek. he flinches. “if it's made you what you are right now, then isn't that more beautiful than anything else? you don't have to be perfect to be beautiful, you know.”
“i...” but he cannot seem to refute. nor find any reason to. your words would have made him cry, had he not felt so uncomfortable. “(name)..”
you smile subtly. “but at the end of the day, it depends on you whether you want to show it to me. i won't force you, nor will i let anybody else force you either.” you make an effort to pull back but the blond suddenly pulls you back right in.
a yelp from you in surprise at the sudden tug from him and you're crashing against his chest. both of his hands wrap around your wrists gently. “no, no. you're right, i.. it would be better if i show you it now than procastinate any further. i most likely would not be able to gather the courage if i'm any later.”
his hands fall to his sides, allowing you to do as you please. allowing you to lift off his eyepatch. your eyes crease at the corners while your lips form into a smile. “yeah.” you say. “thank you for being brave.”
your fingers are cautious and gentle on him as one hand rests on his cheek while the other goes behind of his head to unlace the string holding it together.
his breath hitches. a pull from your finger at the string and the eyepatch flutters down onto his lap.
on his left eye is a healed scar. scar tissue, to be exact. the eye colour, which previously used to be a vibrant and a lovely shade of red seems to have lost it's colour as well. the silence lingers in the air. william's fidgeting now, but trying to make an effort not to show it. his face has, once again, dipped away from you. he's embarrassed, face tinged with a light pink. he's biting the inside of his cheek, anxious.
“liam..” you breathe out after a long while. “you're beautiful.” he shakes his head, unconvinced.
william turns to peek at you. “lying to me now would be cruel. i can understand if you find me disgusti—”
then why the long pause? he thinks to himself but does not say it. my love, are you grossed out by me?
but the truth was far, far from his thoughts.
you palms press against his chest as you push yourself up and in an instant, your lips are pressed softly, gently over his eyelid. he flinches sharply.
“(name)—?” he's surprised. baffled.
“i will say it to as many times as you need to hear it, william. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful.” you pull back, smile at him, give his cheek a slight squeeze and watch as his face—no, his entire being almost melt into a puddle.
his hands, those warm hands and his slender fingers wrap around your waist, tread upwards by the slightest until they find place over your ribcage with the uttermost softness. and he pulls you in.
“i love you.” you mumble silently against him. he doesn't do much but press his lips against yours, gentle and warm against your own. eyes closed, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching.
your eyelids flutter open to a william, flushed and eyes shimmering, looking at you with the most happiest of grins—as if you plucked the stars from the night sky for him. “i love you too. most ardently.”
#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty#william james moriarty#william james moriarty x reader#william james moriarty x you#william james moriarty x y/n#moriarty the patriot x reader#yuukoku no moriarty x reader
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A never ending cycle
A/n: this is completely based on a fic of a friend of mine. If you're a portuguese speaker, you should really check her works, they're amazing! Her user's @esposa_do_shidou on tiktok!
~ Tw: This is kinda angsty and has some cuss words (use of the f word 2 times) and violence. If you're sensible about any of these topics, I suggest you don't read this
He didn't deserve this, she was sure of it. Even though he could be a little annoying sometimes and really liked to mess with her, Kaiser was a nice guy. He was familiar with suffering and didn't want anyone to go through what he went through as a child, and a person who lived what he did didn't deserve to suffer even more. But, as the wise writer Luís de Camões once wrote, sometimes good people go through bad times. And that was exactly what happened to Michael Kaiser.
-Sit still! If you keep moving I won't be able to completely clean the wound - (Name) said while firmly holding his chin and rotating his face, looking for more bruises - I still want to know what happens everytime you come here looking for me. I brushed it off for a long time, but now I'm curious. You always come here with a black eye and at least one new scar. Keep it up and you'll show up without a tooth by next week - she sighed, putting her arms on her lap - I just don't get it. Why won't you tell me? Don't you trust me?
(Name) and Kaiser had been friends for almost 5 years, and lately they've started to follow a routine: every week, at least 2 or 3 times, Kaiser shows up at her door, with more bruises than the last time he went there, so she can take care of him. She rubs alcohol on his wounds and gives him food. He then says goodbye, leaves and returns the same way (if not worse) the next day.
She never asked what happened to him, even though she was dying to know, because she didn't want him to feel pressured to tell her. The girl was sure he'd tell her eventually, but even after 6 months of following this same routine, he never once mentioned anything about what happened when he was out.
-Hm - Kaiser hummed, a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. He knew it wasn't the first time she thought about it. If someone came up to him all bruised, he'd want to at least know what happened to the person, but she never asked him about it. And he was grateful for it. He was grateful for her.
The truth is he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her about his father abusing him ever since he was born. He wanted to tell her about his need to steal to survive and tell her that her food was actually the first homemade thing he ever ate, and he felt like crying everytime she cared for him, because no one showed him that much care before. But he was scared. He was afraid that when she found out about the robberies, she would be scared of him and wouldn't want to see him anymore. He'd lose her. And it's not like he didn't know the feeling of losing something (besides his soccer ball, he never had anything to lose anyway), but he knew she was the only good thing in his life, and he couldn't even contemplate the thought of losing her without his stomach turning all over and his eyes suddenly became wet.
-Really Kaiser, you can't keep coming here if it's going to be like this - she started, getting up from the chair she was sitting on - I'm saying this because I care about you, and I want to help you through the hard times.
-You can't help me - he said, looking at the floor.
-Maybe I can! If you just tell me what is going on, I can help you!
-My life is none of your business - he said, also getting up from his chair and facing her - I already told you you can't do anything to help, so maybe just shut your fucking mouth and stop being so nosy. - he didn't know why he got so mad at her at that moment, but it was too late to take his words back.
-Mihya, I like you. I don't want to force you to tell me about what happens when you leave my house, but I want to help you. Please, tell me.
-Shut up.
-Michael, it would make this whole situation easier for the both of us.
-Shut up.
-Please Kaiser, I just want you to trus-
-I SAID SHUT UP!
A loud noise echoed across the room, and (Name) slowly brought her hand to her now red and swolen cheek. Meanwhile, Kaiser looked at his hand that was in the air and had just hit the person he cared about most. He was still processing the whole situation, but he was sure of one thing: he regretted what he did.
-I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I-I… - he started, stepping closer to (Name) so he could hug her. But she took a step back and gosh, should a single action hurt one's heart so much? Because Kaiser was sure he heard his heart breaking when he looked at her form: she was cowering with fear, flinching everytime he tried to get closer to her so he could apologize for what he did. The thing he feared the most came true: she was scared of him. Terrified, even.
-Get out of my house - she muttered, still holding her cheek.
-W-what? - he asked. He heard what she said, but didn't want to believe it: she couldn't really be kicking him out of her house, could she?
-I told you to GET OUT! - she shouted at him with tears in her eyes, and Kaiser felt his own tears starting to form and travel his cheeks and chin before wetting the floor underneath him.
He really wanted to stay. Hell, he wanted to get on his knees and beg her not to leave him. Tell her that he meant nothing he said or did. Tell her that she was the best thing that had happened to him, cause she showed him what love was. But he felt like he wasn't worthy of it. He wasn't worthy of her.
So, with one last look inside the house he grew accostumed with, he left.
It was probably for the best anyway: you know what people say, the abused becomes the abuser, right? If he got too close to her, he would hurt her more than he already did. He was dangerous. He was just like his father.
Hugging his sides, Kaiser started to walk "home". The only thing that could be heard were his sobs and hiccups. There wasn't anyone around, but even if there were people around him, he was too sad and broken to care.
He just knew one thing: he fucked up. But he was stubborn, and he was going to fix this no matter what it took. He cared too much for (Name) to just give her up like that, so he wouldn't back down without fighting.
#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk#michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock x reader#blue lock#blue lock x you#blue lock kaiser#kaiser x reader#blue lock angst#bllk angst#angst
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Odysseus was afraid the entire year on Aeaea in the Odyssey.
Content warnings: Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual assault, Sex Work, power dynamics, this will also be long as fuck as I talk too much. This is NOT a "Circe the Goddess Hate Post". I call her out but that's it. I tried to keep this neutral but still making a point (Let me know if I gotta put more)
Lots of lovely folks on here have written great essays on what Calypso did to Odysseus as it's soooo blatantly obvious there. It literally states how he cried every day and how he flinched from Calypso, very straightforward on how he was explicitly raped.
But I've noticed that a lot of people are always iffy about Circe's situation (understandably so, it's not so in your face.) She's usually always mentioned in the "Odysseus never cheated! He was raped!" posts but then the evidence is only ever given against Calypso, and then mentioning how you can't say no or disobey the orders of an immortal and how it was in exchange for freeing his men.
WHICH IS ALL CORRECT!!! But!!!
There ARE immortal/mortal couples who genuinely love each other. Dionysus and Ariadne, and Eros and Psyche are examples. Apollo and Hyacinthus. Psyche indeed becomes immortal eventually and in some versions, both Hyacinthus and Ariadne do too. But even while mortal themselves, their immortal lovers still remained respectful and loving towards them and definitely doted on them. There are definitely power dynamics at play here but there's some nuance.
Odysseus and Circe's relationship, however, is very different. We all know he slept with her at the very least once. And that was in exchange for his men being returned to humans. That was the only time it was explicitly stated. With Calypso, it tells you every night he was enchanted and slept beside her. It was the narrator speaking but Odysseus is the narrator now and it's his story. If you think he lied, this probably won't change your mind anyway.
But even if it was a one-time thing, (which isn't the only interpretation and I will have points that talk about others) then why did he stay a year? What was he doing?
I'm doing a deep dive into the year he spent on Aeaea based on evidence in Book 10 and then the beginning of Book 12. Step by step, and honestly I'm writing this for Tumblr, not as a thesis so I will be a bit more casual but still using sources. To me, it's very obvious that he was uncomfortable throughout the text simply based on the language that is used. But it's very subtle and not an outright statement of "He's been crying every day."
BTW, just so we're clear, this is not a "Circe is the root of all evil, etc." type of post.
This isn't meant to villainize her. She's an immortal being and in mythology that changes things. Everybody is morally gray. I genuinely think if we were to ask her feelings on it, she'd probably be like "Oh, yeah! Turned his men into pigs! Strange little man he was." I don't think she gave a flying fuck.
I just simply get pissed tf off when people think Odysseus was fine. It honestly disturbs me how often I'll go on other websites YouTube and see everyone call him a whore and a womanizer. It's sexism at its finest because 1.) "MaN AlwAyS wAnTs sEx" and 2.) women can't rape/coerce. THIS IS SIMPLY TO LOOK INTO HIS FEELINGS ABOUT IT.
This is also only for Homer's Odyssey, using different translations. If you want to discuss this, (I'd be happy to! Just be nice!) DON'T BRING UP ANY OTHER WORKS.
With all that out of the way, come yell with me 🤗
I've read multiple translations, as I know there's going to be bias depending on who's translating. And having done so, each one has basically the same situations described the same so that's nice for consistency. Also, there are some parts in the story that are vague and that we'll never have answers to.
Odysseus first simply sees the smoke from her chimney and then sends his men in, after drawing lots Eurylochus leads half of the men to check out the house. I mentioned here vaguely how the 2 immortals he sleeps with are both introduced while singing and weaving, which could be seen as an enchantment (which to me is most likely. They both possess magic and are goddesses). So I'm just gonna move past that. Just take a peek and come back or just know that enchantment was likely.
Next, I'll see people often joke on Tumblr about how
"Odysseus says that Polites is his best friend yet only mentions him once!"
I think Odysseus mentions his best friend, the one to jubilantly go in first, to show WHY he would go through with this. How much these comrades mean to him. That's his best friend, and there are approximately 20 others who are now pigs as well. Could you knowingly leave one of your best friends to live a life like that knowing you could've done something?
[...]Circe—and deep inside they heard her singing, lifting
her spellbinding voice as she glided back and forth
at her great immortal loom, her enchanting web
a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave.
Polites, captain of armies, took command,
the closest, most devoted man I had: ‘Friends,
there’s someone inside, plying a great loom,
and how she sings—enthralling!
The whole house is echoing to her song.
Goddess or woman—let’s call out to her now!’
So he urged and the men called out and hailed her.
She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth,
inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence.
(Fagles, Book 10)
In the Odyssey, it's never mentioned why she turns people into animals. I think they were turned into pigs because, throughout the Iliad and Odyssey, Odysseus is often associated with boars. His men are associated with him, therefore: 🐖 Piggy. From what we know, the lads were just eating her food. With how much Xenia and hospitality are a large part of the story, they probably thought they were safe. They were GUESTS. This is especially welcome after the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians. And it literally says "All innocence". They were simply naive.
Then Eurylochus runs back, so terrified that he couldn't speak at first. He then begs Odysseus to just leave the men behind. Odysseus has shown that he does TRY to save his men when it is truly not reckless to do so.
But I shot back, ‘Eurylochus, stay right here,
eating, drinking, safe by the black ship.
I must be off. Necessity drives me on.’
(Fagles, Book 10)
Then the famous warning from Hermes. I've seen folks bring this up when talking about this. YES, he is literally commanded by Hermes to not refuse her if he wants his men back in basically every translation. It sounds like Circe was warned as well. When? We don't know, but it sounds like Hermes didn't pick "sides" here.
Strange that he was still like, "Sleep with each other" to both, because he could've been like, "Circe, there's this guy named Odysseus. When he comes to this island, change his men back." But who knows, maybe it was Circe's idea from the beginning and Hermes went along with it. Just food for thought.
Now here’s your plan of action, step by step.
The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand,
you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip
and rush her fast as if to run her through!
She’ll cower in fear and coax you to her bed—
but don’t refuse the goddess’ bed, not then, not if
she’s to release your friends and treat you well yourself.
But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods
she’ll never plot some new intrigue to harm you,
once you lie there naked—
never unman you, strip away your courage!’
(Fagles, Book 10)
But that doesn't explain why he was there for a year afterward! Nor if he himself was okay with it, which is what I'm trying to delve into as he wasn't.
Also the knife thing? She's still immortal. It was meant to startle her. Her dad is Helios. Odysseus would've been toast, literally.
Also note this exchange wasn't a "Yippee! Hermes says I'm going to get laid!".
...just approaching the halls of Circe,
my heart a heaving storm at every step,
paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids—
I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice,
she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth,
inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now …
(Fagles, Book 10)
Another translation by Ian Johnston, (they all say the same thing essentially but trying to make a point.)
I continued on
to Circe’s home. As I moved on, my heart
was turning over many gloomy thoughts.
After I had walked up to the gateway
of fair-haired Circe’s house, I just stood there
and gave a shout. The goddess heard my voice.
She came out at once, opened her bright doors,
and invited me inside. I entered,
heart full of misgivings.
HE👏WAS👏SCARED! The tone is solemn and suspenseful. He was just told that without Hermes' help with the root, he wouldn't be able to survive and bring back his men. Circe was dangerous.
He made her swear not to harm him.
Straightaway
she began to swear the oath that I required—never,
she’d never do me harm—and when she’d finished,
then, at last, I mounted Circe’s gorgeous bed …
(Fagles, Book 10)
Please note that she NEVER promised that to his men. His comrades did NOT have moli in their systems. He had no way of truly ensuring their safety in any way from Circe.
He then refuses to eat or speak, literally "lost in grim forebodings". If he "just got laid", then why isn't he happy? Not many men can say that a goddess CHOSE to have sex with them. He did it to get his men turned back. It was an exchange. I don't think Circe is "Evil" so maybe it slipped her mind. Or yes, she could've thought, "Hey, I got what I wanted. He's handsome enough. Homer never shuts up about how hot this guy is He hasn't brought up the pigs yet. I'll just let this play out. Maybe HE forgot. I don't have to do anything." We don't know. But Odysseus probably felt like he got deceived.
"Hey, I did my part of the deal. I slept with you. Now do yours."
She pressed me to eat. I had no taste for food.
I just sat there, mind wandering, far away …
lost in grim forebodings.
As soon as Circe saw me,
huddled, not touching my food, immersed in sorrow,
she sidled near with a coaxing, winged word:
‘Odysseus, why just sit there, struck dumb,
eating your heart out, not touching food or drink?
Suspect me of still more treachery? Nothing to fear.
Haven’t I just sworn my solemn, binding oath?’
So she asked, but I protested, ‘Circe—
how could any man in his right mind endure
the taste of food and drink before he’d freed
his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes?
If you, you really want me to eat and drink,
set them free, all my beloved comrades—
let me feast my eyes.’
So I demanded.
(Fagles, Book 10)
He doesn't trust her despite what she had told him that he should when they sleep together. He has figured out that while she will not hurt him, his men were not a part of that oath, the men he was trying to protect in the first place.
She is then moved by how they rejoice when they see one another again. While turning people into animals for funsies isn't cool and coercion is fucked up, I think she comes to see this group as not quite friends but I think she did find them entertaining in a way.
This is very strange but I've seen some folks say that since Odysseus was pissed at Eurylochus for still not believing him about Circe is proof that "Oh he was trying to defend her!". Which??? Uh, Eurylochus was literally questioning his leadership as a whole. Calling him reckless and shit. He is captain and he's the King, he can't let that shit slide. The text literally says "Mutinous". Also if I had to sleep with someone I did not want to especially if it was to save my friends and I got called names afterward I'd get fucking pissed too.
Only Eurylochus tried to hold my shipmates back,
his mutinous outburst aimed at one and all:
‘Poor fools, where are we running now?
Why are we tempting fate?—
why stumble blindly down to Circe’s halls?
She’ll turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions
made to guard that palace of hers—by force, I tell you—
just as the Cyclops trapped our comrades in his lair
with hotheaded Odysseus right beside them all—
thanks to this man’s rashness they died too!
They stay a year. Again it's never stated that Odysseus slept with her that whole time. You could interpret that. (Honestly, I feel Circe would get bored with him? She's a goddess, she's got more important matters than mortal men. And she definitely doesn't love him.)
His men DO have to bring it up that "Odysseus has forgotten his native land." Maybe they thought they could sneak out without her knowing??? I am fucking REACHING but hold on as Telemachus did because he knew Nestor would well, be Nestor and try to coax him with "Have a meal with us! Let me tell you about how badass I used to be in my youth." But to sneak away from a goddess? Without her permission? That won't end too well. Aeolus in the beginning kicked out Odysseus when he tried to ask for another bag of wind. If she didn't want him around, she could literally boot him out. While she didn't force him to stay like Calypso did, she didn't "release" him either.
We don't know if they've been asking for a long time. Odysseus does say to Circe that they have been begging him nonstop, but he could also be saying that to try and convince her. He's good at persuasion. I think while he knew he could rely on her for food, shelter, and good advice, he still didn't feel...SAFE with her. I think he was possibly avoiding her personally.
I think HOW he asks her to leave is important to know as well.
...but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe’s,
hugged her by the knees
and the goddess heard my winging supplication:
‘Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once—
it’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home,
my comrades’ hearts as well. They wear me down,
pleading with me whenever you’re away.’
(Fagles, Book 10)
Throughout all of Homer's works, the characters grasp another's knees when they are desperate and are literally at the other person's mercy. Priam did when begging Achilles for Hector's body back. The man who literally killed his son and was defiling his body by dragging it around. Leodes grabs Odysseus' knees to beg for his life before Ody kills him. If he saw her as a friend, and not a captor, WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO BEG IN ORDER TO LEAVE?! No one, who is in a healthy relationship, has to BEG for permission to leave. Or to "Break up", if you interpret them as still sleeping together.
And even Circe acknowledges that he is there against his will!
‘Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, old campaigner,
stay on no more in my house against your will.
(Fagles, Book 10)
[...]Odysseus, man of many resources, scion of Zeus, son of Laertes, don’t stay here a moment longer against your will
(A.S. Kline, Book 10)
This is probably another reach that you can ignore but the whole "they wear me down", could be trying to appease her. "Look, you're REALLY cool, it's actually my crew that wants to leave hahahah please don't kill them"
I mentioned before how Telemachus snuck away from Nestor but that was simply out of necessity because he needed to go home now. Not rest for the night. NOW. Nestor is just everyone's grandpa. Menelaus kind of talked more but Telemachus is very straight up in "Please I have to go now" and Menelaus immediately got things ready for him. He never has to beg and clasp his knees. Telemachus was never afraid. Menelaus is a fun uncle and Helen is your cool auntie.
Back to Circe! She tells him instructions for the underworld, they were in her bedroom. But that might've been the only way to speak with her. As even Penelope is usually away from the suitors when they are in her halls, Circe may have done the same. The text never states she played hostess physically. If she was hosting in the halls during the day, why did Odysseus wait until night to talk to her? He could've just asked her while she was on her throne in front of everyone. (He did so with the Phaeacians)
Or maybe he went alone because she only swore an oath to not harm him and so he didn't want his men near if she decided she didn't want to let them go. I could be missing something here so feel free to say something. Idk if this was a pride thing on how "I don't want others to see me beg".
She has info he needs in order to go home as well. She tells him to go to the Underworld.
She gave him new fine clothes and put on pretty clothes herself but that doesn't mean they had sex. Nausicaa gave him nice clothes as well but he never slept with her.
Then he leaves. Immediately. Not even doing a headcount as he didn't realize one of his men had died. (That was negligence on his part but he wanted out) He booked it, to the UNDERWORLD BY THE WAY. Circe even had to sneak the animals he needed for the sacrifice. Odysseus even basically said "She's a goddess. She can do things mortals can't" at the end of the book. And it almost feels...Numb? Solemn? Neutral? Gives a "It is what it is" vibe.
But Circe got to the dark hull before us,
tethered a ram and black ewe close by—
slipping past unseen. Who can glimpse a god
who wants to be invisible gliding here and there?
(Fagles, Book 10)
She’d slipped past us with ease,
for who can see a god move back and forth,
if she has no desire to be observed?
(Johnston, Book 10)
She's a goddess. She has magic. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.
NOW ON TO BOOK 12!!! That was long! GET A SNACK AND WATER! LUCKILY THIS'LL BE SHORTER!
In Book 11, Odysseus swears, upon all his loved ones in Ithaca, to Elpenor that he'd give him a proper burial as he's been "unwept, unburied". So in Book 12, he sails back to Aeaea to fulfill his promise.
But you know what's funny to me?
He didn't tell Circe he was there.
He didn't even go to greet Circe himself. He sent his men to go get Elpenor's body.
The biggest clue that he didn't love/trust her is that if she was his "Affair partner" then why not go see her for "one last night together"?
SHE came out herself and pulled him aside to know what happened and then gave more advice.
I dispatched some men to Circe’s halls to bring
the dead Elpenor’s body. [...]
Nor did our coming back from Death escape Circe—
she hurried toward us, decked in rich regalia,
handmaids following close with trays of bread
and meats galore and glinting ruddy wine.
[...]
But Circe, taking me by the hand, drew me away
from all my shipmates there and sat me down
and lying beside me probed me for details
(Fagles, Book 12)
In every translation, it talks about how he sits, and she lounges/lies down. That's not sex 🙃 In some translations, it even says he tried to be with his shipmates but she pulled him away!
So we lay down and slept
beside our ship’s stern cables. But Circe
took me by the hand and led me away,
some distance from the crew. She made me sit,
while she stretched out beside me on the ground.
(Johnston, Book 12)
Then, she gives advice about the sirens, Charybdis, Scylla, and her father's Cattle. He tries to ask if he could save all his men. She scolds him for even thinking he could try. He again books it out of there.
I think we all know it wasn't "love". But I think a lot of people think Odysseus was willing and happy with whatever this was. "Friends with Benefits", if you will. I guess you could see it that way but I will say that makes me feel itchy with the whole power dynamic and fear. I don't think folks who have that arrangement have to beg on their knees to ask if they can leave though.
I mean the entirety of Book 10 gives me the vibes of "Laughing uncomfortably because you don't want to upset the other person". To just grin and bear it.
A lot of this was just putting the text here and picking it apart step by step. What you do with this is up to you. It's rambling while banging pots and pans together.
Maybe you see him as drugged the entire year and still sleeping together, as the moli "wore off". Even then, just because her magic can't affect him, there are plenty of natural concoctions that can be created that can affect mortals.
Maybe you see the entire year as sex work in exchange for shelter and food.
Maybe he was just alongside his men the whole time under her roof and was avoiding her after the exchange. After he got asked by his men to finally leave, he would start to walk up to that room only to freeze and turn around, thinking "One more day won't hurt. Should wait until I know she's in a sympathetic mood".
I beg of you, however, PLEASE understand that there was fear and coercion throughout his entirety on Aeaea. He wasn't staying to get laid. While there is so much going on and too many things that are left vague to really know exactly what happened, it is consistent that he was scared/numb. Lots of people go through with things they don't really want to do just to appease others. There are plenty of situations of sexual trauma where one person goes through something and the other has no idea the other person isn't okay. ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE CAN HARM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT AT ANY MOMENT!
Sexual trauma is a very complicated thing and while he was scared, he definitely wasn't as traumatized by her as he was by Calypso. Calypso was a torturous hell while Circe was a year of walking on eggshells. Not comparable but I still think it should be acknowledged. It's wild because I read the Odyssey and kept thinking "Y'all are calling the sex slave a cheater? The guy who slept with a goddess to get his men back? The ultimate simp apparently doesn't love his wife??"
Things I'm adding that shouldn't affect the argument as it is not in the Odyssey but I want to mention as it's a "fun fact": Odysseus' dad was an Argonaut. Laertes probably met Circe as well, (or knew of her) with the whole purifying thing and maybe Odysseus heard his dad tell stories of her. Later myths also have Circe with the habit of turning her crushes (or their lovers) into something with Scylla and Picus.
In conclusion, Yeah, he was afraid of her. At least to an extent. And don't pull the whole "Ancient men didn't get raped". Male victims exist and deserve compassion for what was done to them and women are capable of sexual abuse. If you think otherwise, you are not a true feminist and Fuck you. I said in the beginning this'll be casual and I don't wanna write a fancy ending. You can still think Circe is neat but you have to know that this was fucked up.
If you think a lot of this is bullshit or wanna give more context or wish to yell with me but still know he wasn't alright on Aeaea, cool. If you want to point out mistakes or something I should keep in mind with interpretations then feel free to say so but give text evidence. If you try and bring up the Telegony and/or Madeline Miller's Circe, fuck clean off. This is Homer. If you call Odysseus a whore and not the malewife he canonically is I'll start biting. 😤
#feel free to add thoughts! just be nice#Was a bit afraid to post this but now I don't care lol#I'm a tired bitch#Youtube and idiots on tumblr got me acting up.#This may be too thorough but idc.#idk why the colors get weird#I don't know how other people can see all these things lined up together and not see how he was not okay.#like I said you can still like circe the goddess but know this was wrong!#might make private sometime but fuck it#anti-madeline miller#Circe the goddess is “fine”. Circe the book is not#It sounds like it does her dirty anyways. Odyssey Circe would take book Circe out back and beat the absolute shit outta her.#As another Madeline I'm ashamed.#if you bring up the tele-GONE-y then BEGONE yourself#odysseus#the odyssey#odyssey#circe#tagamemnon#tw rape#tw sa#tw sex assault#crying shaking throwing up#greek mythology#circe rant#odyssey rant#anti madeline miller#anti circe#the BOOK#Mad rambles
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Cassie's reply to "height difference" question and my attempts to justify this sketch and comfort you all🌿🌱
(she answered me on inst)
1 fear: "Why does Ty look....the way he looks? Comparing to other arts this thing is kinda upsetting"
My explanation: 1) It's something Cassandra Jean drew very quickly so Cassie could tease us, nothing more, it's a quick sketch. On her other works Ty is drawn... much more detailed? Ugh idk english. It's not an official thing, it's something they put in a newsletter just to say "we can't tell you anything, stop asking".
Arts for future books:
Arts for fun:
2 fear: "Does Ty grow shorter each year? They're trying to make a little soft uwu boy out of him and it's a stereotypical portrayal of autistic people"
My explanation: KIT SITS ON HIS LAP. HE JUMPED ON HIM AND REFUSES TO LEAVE. That would explain why his head is so much higher🩷 I'm also afraid of him being turned into a tiny fragile helpless boy, but let's not lose hope, cause SOBH Ty was great!
Listen, not so long ago Cassandra Jean made an art for SOBH featuring both of them in the same room. They're about the same height. Even if Kit ends up being taller in TWP, he won't be AS TALL AS A STREET LAMP comparing to Ty. All official arts featuring more...grown up Ty?... look fine.
Or maybe sobh art is some kind of visual illusion and it turns out that Ty and Anush are like "kitchen counter tall". They'll be badass inventors that you can put in a pocket and carry around.
Anyway! Don't trust quick sketches made for fun, trust official illustrations and 🌿don't worry🌿! Ty is a big boy, confident enough to go around with many unbuttoned buttons on his shirt👁️👄👁️And SOBH showed him as a determined smart guy he is! It's going to be okay🫶
I asked Cassie about it on Instagram and here's her reply!
#tadaaa#kit herondale#ty blackthorn#twp#tda#sobh#the wicked powers#cassadra clare#cassandra jean#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#anush joshi#kitty#the dark artifices#secrets of blackthorn hall
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can i please request one where it’s batboys x reader and reader is the daughter of devlon and she secretly used to help the boys when they lived in windhaven. She helped cassian when he was homeless by giving him food and clothes and stuff before she told him that living with rhys would be better for him. She also made sure rhys snd cassian welcomed azriel when he arrived and she just helped them through it all. And then just before they moved to velaris, the mating bond snapped for all of them and they asked her to run away from devlon and to live with them. She said yes and ran away to be the Lady of Night. After a few years she goes back to windhaven with the batboys and devlon cusses her out, but her mates defend her.
A Not So Warm Welcome Batboys x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, threats of violence.
You had always helped your boys, even when you were kids in Windhaven where you first met them. Rhys was easy to befriend because you spent time with his sister when she visited. Eventually, you started spending time with Rhys and became closer friends with him than his sister. Your father, Devlon, had warned you to stay away from them, but you always snuck off when he was busy. Rhys's mom was the only reason your wings hadn't been clipped, and for her, you were eternally grateful.
When Cassian had arrived, you were instantly intrigued by his scrappiness. You quickly learned he was all alone, making life much harder for him in the camp. You would save left overs from dinner and sneak them to him after your dad had gone to bed. Whatever money you could save went towards warmer clothes and better boots for him. You eventually convinced Rhys he wasn't as bad as he had thought. You even encouraged Cassian to stay with them once Rhys's mom had opened her home to him.
Everyone was afraid of Azriel when he arrived because of his shadows. You found them fascinating the way they were an extension of him and seemed to be their own at the same time. It took a while for him to warm up to you, but once he did, he became protective of you. He quickly befriended Cassian and Rhys because of their friendship with you.
You had helped the three of them through the loss of Rhys's mother and sister. It wasn't easy on any of you, Rhys was a wreck, and you'd feared he'd retreat inside himself and never be the same. Eventually, he came back better and stronger.
When the blood rite came, you cheered for them and prayed to the cauldron that they would make it back safe. You were relieved when the three of them walked back into the house, smiling and celebrating. You hugged each one and congratulated them. You celebrated with them until the early hours of morning.
A few weeks later, Rhys asks you to come to the house. When you walk in, you see all three of them standing around. "Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?" You say teasingly. "You're not in trouble, well, not yet anyways." Cassian says with a wink. "What are you three up to?" You ask. "We're moving to Velaris." Rhys says. "That's great!" You say excited for them but a little hurt that they're leaving. "I'll have to come visit you."
"You won't have to visit us because you're coming with us." Azriel says. Your face lights up at the idea of being free from Windhaven and your father. "You mean it?" You ask. "Of course, without you, we never would've become brothers." Rhys says. "You would've been friends without me. You needed each other. You just needed a little push." You tell them. "What we needed was you." Rhys says.
You move to hug Rhys, and before long, Azriel and Cassian join. You suddenly feel the snap in your chest, causing you to place your hand over it. You feel not one but three strings, one leading to each of the men in front of you. "Is that what I think it is?" You ask softly in disbelief.
"A mating bond with the three of us." Rhys answered. You looked between the three of them. "I would never choose between the three of you." You tell them a little panicked. Cassian smiles, "Nobody is asking you to choose. We're going to share you." Rhys and Azriel nod in agreement. You weren't sure how that was going to work out, but you were curious enough to try.
Over the next few weeks, you settle comfortably into your new life with your mates. Rhys quickly bought a larger house, given the circumstances. The three of them each had individual bedrooms, and your room contained a bed big enough to comfortably sleep all four of you. You rarely had all three of them in your bed unless it was needed.
You took turns sharing nights with each of your mates. You were surprised how well having three mates was working out. After seeing how well it was going, you accepted the bond. They always made sure your needs were met as well as their own.
You were sitting in Rhys's lap while he went over various reports. Cassian and Azriel had walked through the door to his office. You quickly jumped out of Rhys's lap and greeted them each with a hug and kiss before checking to see if either of them were injured. Once you were satisfied, they sat on the couch with you in the middle.
"I'm assuming you have news for me." Rhys says. "Yes, and you won't like it." Azriel answers. "The rumors are more than rumors." Cassian added, causing Rhys to swear under his breath. "What rumors?" You ask having been left out of the loop. "Wing clippings." Rhys answers softly. "But we outlawed that." You say glancing between your mates. "We did," Rhys says, "but you know how stubborn Illyrians are."
Your first point of order once Rhys had become High Lord was the ban of all wing clippings. "They refuse to stop traditions." Cassian says. "I guess that means we'll have to pay them a visit." Rhys announces. "We should start with Windhaven. That's where the rumors seem to be for the most part." Azriel says.
"I want to go." You say. The three of them look at you, surprised. "Not sure that's a good idea." Azriel says. You cross your arms in front of you, "and why isn't it?" Cassian pulls you into his lap, "because we're worried for your safety." You roll your eyes, "I can handle myself." He smiles at your tenacity. "We know, but we'd feel better with you here." Azriel says as he brushes the hair out of your eyes. "We'll be back before you know it." Rhys says.
"I'm calling Vows." You say as you stand and stare your mates down." The three exchange a look between themselves. "Darling, please..." Rhys starts, but you cut him off. "No, I'm calling Vows, and I'm going with you." You say sternly, "We were mated as equals, and we vowed to treat each other as equals. Right now, the three of you are not treating me like an equal."
"You're right. We'll leave first thing in the morning." Rhys says. "You're really letting her go, just like that?" Cassian says. "I'm aware of the risks Cass, besides I've dealt with Illyrians my whole life. It's nothing I can't handle." You tell him. "It'll be the first time seeing your father since you left." Azriel points out calmly. "We aren't sure how he is going to react." Cassian adds. "I'd rather face him with you than let the three of you face him without me." You say.
"It's settled. We're leaving in the morning. Get a good night sleep." Rhys said. You walked out of his office and into your bedroom. You went into your bathroom and got ready for bed. When you came out, you found Cass and Az in your bed. "What's this?" You asked with a smile. "We thought we could sleep in here with you." Azriel says, looking a little shy. "Of course you can, Rhys didn't want to join?" You ask. "He's still working in his office." Cass says.
"Keep my spot warm, I'll be back." You say as you make your way out of the room and back to Rhys. "Imagine my surprise when I find two of my mates in my bed while one continues to work." You say, causing Rhys to look up from his paperwork. "I just need to finish a few things." He says. "No, you need to get some sleep, especially with going to Windhaven." You take his hand and lead him to your room.
Cass and Az move so you can lay in the middle. Once you're situated, Rhys lays between your legs with his head on your stomach. The four of you get settled in and drift to sleep. You wake up a couple of times thinking of what morning brings. You feel Azriel holding you tighter as he mumbles, "Sleep, princess." You can't help but smile and settle into the warmth of your mates.
You wake up to the smell of tea as Cassian holds a mug out to you. "Thank you." You say with a smile while you reach for the mug and take a sip. "Drink up, you're going to need it." He says before kissing your forehead. You see that one of them laid out some clothes for you. After finishing your tea, you get dressed in training leathers that Cassian had bought you.
Rhys decided to save time and winnow to Windhaven. You had forgotten how cold it was in the mountains. It didn't take long for Devlon to approach once your presence was announced. "And where the hell have you been?!" He demands staring at you. You notice the way your mates shift and ready themselves to intervene if necessary.
"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer!!" He says, his voice becoming angrier. "I have been living with them and helping to better this court." You say confidently. "All you've been is a whore for them to use until they tire of you. You'll be crawling back here in no time." He says. Azriel steps in front of you shielding you behind him.
"You will watch how you speak to my mate, regardless of her relationship to you." He says with venom lacing each word. "You will also show your High Lady the respect she deserves!" Rhys says, standing beside Azriel. The look on your fathers face is priceless as he tries to wrap his head around everything.
"You're mated to the two of them?" He asks in disbelief. "No, she is mated to the three of us." Cassian says with a smile he stands by his brothers. "All this proves is that you are a whore, just like your mother was." He sneers at you. "Last warning, insult our mate one more time and find out what happens." Rhys threatens.
"Why are you here?" Devlon asks, changing the subject but still giving you looks of disgust. "You know the new laws and are expected to enforce them." Rhys says. "I can not monitor what everyone is doing in the privacy of their own home." Devlon says.
"Yet you can clearly spot the aftermath of broken laws, and you choose to ignore it and not report it." Devlon glares at Rhys. "Being a half breed, you wouldn't understand our traditions and never learned to appreciate them." Devlon practically spits. "The tradition of wing clipping is outdated and barbaric." Cassian says.
"I wouldn't expect a bastard like yourself to understand either." He replies. "Enough!" You shout before stepping in front of your mates. "You all know the new laws. You don't have to agree with them, but you're expected to obey them. Anyone who doesn't will be made an example of anyone who doesn't report it will be guilty by association and face the same consequences." You say with authority.
You feel the bond flood with pride from all of your mates. "I assume most of you have training to get back to, I suggest you do. If not, I suggest you find something else to occupy your time." You say addressing the crowd that has gathered. "Who do you think you are?!" Devlon challenges, "What gives you the right to order my men around?"
"I am y/n! High Lady of the Night Court, made so by your High Lord, Rhysand. I expect to be treated with respect and not to have my authority questioned." You say confidently. "Get back to work." Devlon tells the gathered Illyrians.
"If you would like, we can discuss these rumors in private." Devlon says to Rhys after the crowd had disbanded. "Maybe later, I would like to get my mate settled before we continue." He answers. You notice the scent of your mates arousal, but keep your expression neutral. "Whenever you're ready, then." Devlon says before walking away.
You walk with your mates through the camp to Rhys's house. You enter first, followed by Rhys, then Cassian and Azriel. Rhys starts a fire to warm up the house for you. Cassian kisses you deeply, "You standing up to them was the hottest thing I have ever seen!" He says after breaking the kiss.
"You handled yourself well." Azriel adds as he pulls you into arms. "You were stunning. The look on your father's face was priceless." Rhys says. The scent of their arousal becoming stronger. "How about you take me to bed and show me how much you enjoyed that." You say with a devious grin. Before you know it, Cassian has you over his shoulder and is carrying you towards the bedroom with Rhys and Azriel following behind.
#acotar#batboys#sarah j maas#acotar fanfic#acotar fic#azriel#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#rhysand x reader#batboys x reader
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GUYS HELP I was at work, and I had this scenario pop in my head that made me look like this all day.
I'm not a good writer, so the talented fallout Fandom has my blessing to expand on this idea of mine🙏🙏🙏 but here it goes.
Ok, so what if Janey is frozen in cryo (maybe in vault 31?) The whole 219 years so she haven't aged a day at all, and what if Cooper and Lucy go back to her vault to get more supplies and then Norm tells them about vault 31 and they go look at it. (Maybe it won't be easy, maybe there a fight idk) And when they get there, they find the pods, and then Copper finds Janey.....
He was in shock, frozen. Lucy, notice and go over to look and see her name. (Maybe at this point, she knows his full name and put two and two together) Anyway, they all agree to let her out, but Cooper is nervous. I mean, look at him... He is not the same man Janey knew as her father, but he is too the same or so lucy tells him. (having maybe seen a bit more of his old self by then) She convinced him to see her when she's ready, after all being thawed out, takes a lot out of someone. Janey is asleep for a few days, and once she's wakes up, she needs to get her bearings. In the meantime, Cooper is trying his best to clean up taking many showers. (That's his stinky ass needs after 219 years) Washing his clothes the same cowboy outfit he been wearing since the last time he saw her, but even after all that, he's still afraid. He doesn't want to touch her because no matter what he does, he's so irradiated that he'll taint her, but lucy consoles him by saying she's been exposed to it anyway, giving she was there when the bombs fell. It doesn't do much, but it calms him down enough so that he'll be in the same room as her
Anyway, Lucy goes in first. It has been about a week since Janey has been thawed. Lucy, having been a school teacher, knows how to explain stuff to kids. She slowly tells Janey how long she has been asleep for, how she is safe, how her dad is here. And how he been looking for her all the time, about how. "That him not being in a vault did things to him." About how. "Even though he may look scary, it's still her dad." Janey nods and understands she tells Lucy she's ready to see him, and Lucy goes to get Cooper. (Whether Lucy stayed in the room or not, I don't know.) But Cooper walks in the room, in a cleaner but still worn out blue cowboy uniform not having on the duster coat or vest. There she is.... standing in the room a few feet away from him, his mouth to dry to talk. It's not like he could talk anyway. What would he even say to her?
It felt like time froze, but it also felt like an eternity of silence. Janey was the first to do anything. Walking over to him, Cooper stepped back a bit but stopped. She was right in front of him. She looked him up and down, and she finally spoke to him. "Well.... i guess i can't play. i got your nose with you anymore, huh?"
And with that, Cooper, who was holding his breath this whole time, was able to breathe again. Not caring about anything else but her, he fell to his knees and hugged her for the first time in 219 years and cried.
#but yeah not a fun thought to have at the beginning of a shift#if y'all want make fics and art of this idea i will be thankful 🙏#fallout amazon#fallout tv series#fallout#lucy maclean#cooper howard#janey howard#ghoulcy
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HURT
➝ 05. MIDNIGHT DOVE
a/n: i never thought it would take a year to finally work up the courage to finish this. i swear it's been marinating in my mind for months. life got in the way as it always does, and well shit happens, but i am gradually attempting to return to this world. if you're new here, welcome. if you're someone who has been here since the beginning, then thank you for sticking my horrible productivity out. i swear i won't disappear again. hopefully.
dedicated to: @themarcusmoreno for being an absolute badass fighter as of late. i hope you know how proud i am of you babes and how much i adore you. a special thanks to @sunflowersteves who has been a MASSIVE supporter of this story. i love you babes! and to @soulores who has listened to me ramble about this fic for hours in the hopes inspo would strike again. te amo te amo te amo!!!
summary: joel never made opening himself up to the prospect of love easy, but when it came to you...it felt like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in years.
word count: 14k+ (i'm fucking insane)
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, fluff, joel attempting to be romantic, ptsd, grief, deep talks (joel opens up), joel finally telling the truth, p in v sex, choking kind of, roughness, biting lots of biting (both kinds hahaha), tad bit of violence, the dangers of falling in love.
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It was easy to forget how damaged you were in the midst of his affection. An effortless act to allow yourself a chance to heal as you gave yourself over to him. For brief moments, you weren’t the person who had gone through years of pain, suffered through grief so potent you could taste it. You were the person who could sink into his hold, lose yourself in his touch, and simply exist.
With Joel there was no pain, no reminders of what you didn’t have—what you could never get back—because he took all that away. He gave you the one thing you didn’t know you were searching for. Yourself. In whispered words beneath the midnight sky, you found the reflection you’d been so afraid to look at. You saw the person who had been torn apart by the brutality of this world, by the prospect of death you could no longer run from.
He pieced you back together with his hands, attempting to rid you of all those cracks and crevices where pain seeped out from.
And in doing so, he saved you.
“You used to be a contractor right?” you asked, trying not to huff and puff as you trailed after him through the woods.
Briefly you thought you caught the sight of tall buildings in the distance, but played it off as the sun messing with your eyes again. A few days ago the truck broke down, ruining the quick pace of travel you had gotten used to. Which left you both with one option. Walking until your feet were numb and bloody. You hadn’t missed the energy this took, suddenly yearning for trains and planes—anyway to get to Boston as quickly as possible.
Except you didn’t hate it entirely. The bonus was being able to spend more time with him in secluded areas. You liked studying him by firelight, talking with him underneath the stars. Joel was the one who kept you going in spite of the agonizing effort this took. Thankfully the moments you did run into any infected were brief and quick—simply another crack in the bubble you’d built around yourselves.
Something had shifted between the two of you. Changed the tides of your futures and gave you insight into what might be possible once you got to Boston. You saw hints of a life that you might not have seen before. A future with him. You only hoped that he was seeing the same picture you were.
“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing to let you catch up, his hand reaching for yours.
“Impressive,” you said with a smile, pressing your chin on his shoulder as he leaned against a tree. Giving the both of you a small breather before you started up again.
“It paid the bills.”
“Well yeah. But it’s also a cool job. Getting to build things.”
He grinned, his eyes tracing the shapes and contours of your face. “I guess it was.”
“What made you want to be a contractor?” You caught the way he paused at your question, his eyes unable to meet yours for a brief moment. Joel thought he was able to hide his pain so well, behind an impenetrable mask he never removed. But you saw it.
You were the only one who split it down the middle; revealing the man beneath for your eyes to see.
“Uh,” he mumbled. “It was good work. Kept me stable.”
“Joel? Did I say something?”
He shook his head. “We should keep going,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your temple, his lips lingering a bit longer than usual.
Any other person would play that off as Joel being Joel. Yet you felt the tremor in his chest when he took in a breath. You saw the way he placed another brick in his never-ending wall. One that he didn’t want you to break. Frowning slightly, you walked beside him, glancing to see if he would finally revert back to the man from moments ago, but he was lost to the ravages of his mind.
You knew it would take awhile for him to come back to you. So, you waited. You lost yourself in your own thoughts, watching the birds fly through the trees, the sun peeking through the branches and bathing you in warmth. Thankfully the cold was starting to fade with each passing day. Giving way to the weather you liked most. You wanted to ask Joel where you were—which state you crossed into—but he was still gone.
Reliving the moment he hadn’t told you about yet.
You stopped when the forest gave way to a road and finally caught sight of what was in the distance. Only to realize…the sun hadn’t been playing tricks on you.
Skyscrapers stood tall against the sky, the cityscape so famous and iconic you could pick it out from memory. It was ruined from the past, some buildings had fallen from the decay, but you felt your heart flutter nonetheless. New York City. You’d been traveling through the state this whole time and never knew. Your younger self ached in the back of your mind; the one place you had been striving to get to, now arriving too late.
Yet still…you were there. Staring at what could have been your future once upon a time.
“We’re in New York,” you said, your voice tinged in disbelief.
Joel seemed to have been brought back by your stunned reaction, his lips pulling up into a small smirk. “Thought you would have liked to take this way.”
You whirled around to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. “But what about infected? Won’t they be—”
“They bombed most of the city when the infection hit. Took out the worst parts first.” He pointed to the direction of where you assumed the Empire State building once stood. “No one has been here for nearly a decade. They tried to have a QZ on the outskirts at one point I think.”
“And how did that go?” Although you already knew the answer. Simply another repeat of every major city in this country.
He sighed. “They wound up bombing that too.”
“So we’re going around?” you asked, knowing that the only safe possibility was skirting the edges of the city. But a part of you hoped that for once you and Joel could pretend to be normal humans again.
People who at one point in their lives…might have taken a trip to New York City.
“Well…” His hesitation caught your attention. “We’re gonna go around as much as we can, but there’s somethin’ there that still survived all this. So if we’re careful. Then it should be alright.”
You felt the breath catch in your chest. A sliver of hope flickering warm and bright through your body. “And if it’s not…alright?”
“Then we handle it,” he replied, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, thumb running along your skin. “Like we always do.” Those words alone nearly made those three words slip free from your mouth. “What do you say Boston,” he murmured, his head dipping down—lips brushing along yours. “Wanna take a trip to New York with me?”
There were infected everywhere you went, never being able to escape them entirely. That alone weighed your answer towards it being positive. Still you were wary about what could happen. What could go wrong in the midst of your happiness? It seemed that life never changed when things were already awful. The worst only hit when you were finally at peace, content with what you had.
You should have said no, should have told him it wasn’t safe, but his brown eyes held a hopeful glint in them. A look that you recognized. For the first time, the both of you were finally starting to heal from the horrid effects of this life. It was a tragedy that would never be written down. A play not yet finished.
Which ultimately made the decision for you.
How did you want things to end? With a smile on your face, spending time with the man you loved? Or alone.
“Lead the way Texas,” you said softly, dropping your forehead to his chest, feeling him kiss your head softly before he pulled away.
The trip to get into the city would take a day or two, which meant that you had to set up camp for the night. At least until the sun rose enough to guide you. Venturing back into the forest with him, you felt the lightness in your heart spread down throughout your body. A sensation that you longed to hold onto.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this happy; the feeling almost effortless amidst the pain and destruction of your past. It nearly overflowed, spilling out into the area around you filled with never ending darkness. Joel’s footsteps were heavy against the fallen leaves. As if he was no longer afraid to make noise. Now that the path was clear, his head focused on one direction, you by his side.
Things had shifted drastically since that night. Since you watched a piece of his walls crash to the ground. Giving you a chance to finally see the man he had once been. The Joel you had only met in fragments—memories you weren’t a part of.
A past that you’d never fully know.
“This is as good a place as any,” he said, dropping the bag off his shoulders and onto the ground beside a tree.
“Should I gather wood?” you asked, following his movements—the routine burned into your mind.
He shook his head. “Not tonight. We’re too close to the city.”
“You don’t think people are insane enough to live there, do you?”
The silence he offered was enough of an answer. Even though you were both far enough away from any signs of life, it still wasn’t safe to assume you were entirely free. You could see Joel grappling with the decision to even go down there, but you knew which side would win the war in the end. One side told him to avoid the place altogether, to keep trekking on until you reached the QZ in Boston. But the other whispered something different.
It beckoned him closer, promising something sweet, a reprieve from the terrors of life that continued to plague both of you. Whatever still remained in that city was enough for him to choose the latter.
“I’ll keep first watch,” he murmured, settling with his back to a tree, rifle placed across his thighs.
“Joel.”
He shook his head. “You need to sleep.”
“So do you,” you replied, in the hopes that he’d relent to you as he had before.
The dark lines beneath his eyes grew with every passing day and you wondered what kept him from sleep. Was it nightmares? The prospect of death around every corner? They were things that were enough to send terror running sharply down your spine, but as long as you’d known Joel he seemed to simply take those things in stride. Refusing to give life the satisfaction of watching him crumble beneath the strain.
Yet now he looked half dead; tired of fighting an infinite battle of fear.
“Come here,” you said softly, hand gripping onto his.
“Darlin’—”
“If you don’t sleep then, so help me Joel I will stay up with you.”
The threat held enough truth in it to spur him into action. You would stay up with him until dawn crested over the city, until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Joel had stamina you didn’t possess. Not anymore. So, he allowed you to guide him forward, his head resting on his pack, rifle placed between your bodies. A safety measure in case the night turned for the worst.
“Shut your eyes,” you murmured, seeing the tension in his body melt away the second your hand pressed to his chest.
He huffed—ever the stubborn man who saved your life—but relented without a fight, his eyes fluttering shut quickly followed by a long exhale. The stars were brighter than you’d seen them; the light pollution of the city, no longer a problem the sky had to combat. So, you shifted, rested your head on his shoulder and watched the stars twinkle in a night sky free from the shackles of humanity.
“You’re supposed to sleep too,” he grumbled, his hand coming up to cover yours, thumb running along your wrist.
“I am.” You smiled at his audible snort.
Silence enveloped the two of you, but it never felt off putting in his presence. In fact you began to welcome it, because with Joel there was always more than just words. His thumb continued to go across your skin, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a docile state. If you shut your eyes and focused on the beat of his heart—the rise and fall of his chest with each breath—you might be able to fall asleep. Except your mind still ran, still on high alert in case of something going wrong.
“Hey,” he mumbled, his head turning slightly until his nose brushed against yours.
“Hm?” You felt your heart skip at the sight of his eyes opening again, the deep brown hue pulling you in.
“What’s goin’ on in there?” he whispered. Joel didn’t need to go into specifics to know what he meant by that. You seemed to pick it up just by the inflection of his words—the tone he used when he spoke. This was no different.
You sighed, wishing more than anything that you could strip your shoulders of the weight they carried. “Nothing. I’m just…it’s nothing.”
“It ain’t nothin’.”
“I’m just…scared,” you said, finally showing a sliver of the truth. He hummed, attempting to show that he understood where you were coming from. “What happens when we get to Boston?”
Because that’s where that gnawing feeling stemmed from. It wasn’t your fear of death, or the terror you felt whenever you thought of Joel dying. No, you were scared of what the future held—what came when this trip finally came to an end. You didn’t want to let him go after everything you’d endured together. For the first time you felt like you found the one thing anyone could hope for in life. A partnership.
He sighed. “We keep going.”
“Together?” There you were laying your hope in front of him, wanting him to give you the answer you longed for.
“Yes,” he replied, watching a smile cross your face—his heart beating a bit faster at the sight. It lit him up on the inside. As if someone injected him with a heaping dose of pure sunlight, claiming it would fix all his broken pieces. Save him from hell.
For a moment you simply watched him, seeing an array of emotions flicker through his eyes. You wanted the night to remain endless. For you and Joel to stay there until the stars burned out above—a safe place with no responsibilities. No fear of death. But you knew eventually you would have to get up and follow him into the city. Boston remained right at the very tips of your fingers, yet getting there felt like a million miles away.
“Joel?” you breathed, bringing him out of his mind and back to the present day.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me something.” You clutched his hand in yours, enjoying the warmth that emanated from his skin. “Anything.”
He turned away, looking up at the sky as he processed your words. And you waited patiently. You found that you’d wait for him no matter how long it took, because it was him and to you…he was everything. He was worth fighting for, worth staying put for. He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your palm until pain sparked in your wrist. You didn’t dare pull away though, too captured by the vulnerability that began to show on his face.
For the first time, he was the glass you couldn’t break.
“I had a daughter,” he said softly, still watching how the stars flickered above rather than the way your face went slack with shock. “Sarah.”
Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling to the broken watch on his wrist as tears began to fall from your eyes. That night when you asked about it—watched him close up right before your very eyes—suddenly made sense. Why he never took it off, why it was the most precious thing to him.
It was from her.
“She was…well she is the best damn thing in my life.” He shut his eyes, his eyes stinging with the tears that couldn’t fall. You didn’t dare interrupt him. Joel was baring the part he’d hidden long ago—offering it to you in the hopes that you’d take care of it. “Had the prettiest smile and the best—” He took in a breath. “The best fuckin’ laugh you’d ever heard. Made everyone else laugh.”
You smiled, feeling your tears fall onto his shirt. “She sounds amazing.”
“She is,” he rasped, his hand pulling yours up higher on his chest until you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “On the night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out. But something…” His voice broke, eyes squeezing even tighter. “I couldn’t—and she—”
“Oh Joel,” you whispered, your eyes falling shut as his pain seeped into your heart. It made your whole body scream out and for a moment you wondered how his heart never stopped beating. How had he survived such anguish? How was he still here?
You bit back the sob that threatened to spill free and buried your face into his shoulder, clutching onto his hand to show that you were here. That he could give you this pain to hold and you’d bear it for him for however long he needed. His face turned, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he let the words hang in the air. What more needed to be said? When he had just ripped down the last of his walls.
“I’m so sorry.” The words were a breath on his cheek and you knew they wouldn’t take away any amount of grief. You knew they were simply a band-aid to the gaping wound that would never heal.
He didn’t reply; you didn’t expect him to. So you allowed the silence to fill the air between you, covering you like a comforting blanket. Hiding you from the world until the sun came up. Joel pulled you closer until you practically lay atop his chest, the steady thud of his broken heart echoing beneath your ear. The world had taken so much from him—turned him hopeless—you just never knew the extent of it.
Staring into the darkness of the trees you heard him begin to snore softly, his body now lax beneath you. Except you didn’t move. You remained in the same spot, watching as the world turned a bit darker. The hope seeped out of your body bit by bit now that you understood how much Joel carried—how much he endured.
“I love you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss over his heart, finally shutting your eyes and giving into the soft embrace of sleep.
You woke up to find him gone, his jacket placed strategically over your body to keep you protected from the early morning cold. What you wouldn’t give for a fire to combat the chill that began to seep into your skin. Sitting up slowly, you attempted to catch sight of him through the trees—hoping that he had wandered a bit. But you were left alone with just your pack and his extra gun.
Scenarios began to run through your mind, panic settling in your veins, but you fought against it. You’d been here before. Alone while Joel went off to do who knows what. You knew he would come back—that was a given—but you couldn’t stop the worry from eating at you.
You watched your breath collect in the air as you moved, gathering pieces of wood and rocks to build a fire for a short amount of time. If you were moving today it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to warm up and gain some strength through food. If Joel wasn’t back within the hour you would go out hunting. He’d been generous enough to leave you with a few bullets still in the chamber of his gun.
Which meant he had full intentions of coming back.
The fire sparked quicker than you expected, catching on the brush you packed around the wood and sending heat up towards your face. You couldn’t burn it for long, in case people caught sight of the smoke. Which meant you had to relish in the heat for as long as possible—the stiffness in your body dissipating the longer you sat there.
You watched the orange glow flicker across the wood, consuming it entirely and found you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The sight was familiar—as if you could feel it against your skin with every passing day. Life burned through you with swift brutality and for that mere moment you wondered if it would hurt if you fully sunk into it. Allowed it to destroy you as the flame did the wood that now sat cracked into two pieces—the charred bark falling onto the ground.
A rustling echoed behind you, making you reach for the gun, but the sight of Joel’s graying hair peeking through the woods sent relief flooding through your body. He carried a rabbit in one hand, clutching onto the rifle with the other, and you felt yourself relax just a bit more. Body sinking back into the spot you’d made, legs crossed and hands hovering over the flames.
“Breakfast?” he asked, crouching beside you.
“Don’t mind if I do.” You grinned, pressing your chin against his shoulder briefly, soaking up the warmth of his body.
You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smile being pressed against your temple. His lips a soft brush across your skin. If time was kind, you’d be able to stay there. Sitting in the comfort of his presence—the worry that plagued you now pushed to the very back of your mind. It was rare to feel this okay in the comfort of someone else, but Joel made it easy. You wanted to thank him for simply being here, but the words were stuck in your head. Unable to be released.
“How long until we go?” you asked, watching as he cooked the animal over the flames, your stomach clenching painfully.
“Soon as we’re done here.”
The trip into the city wasn’t by any means safe. In fact you were certain it was the most dangerous thing you would attempt in your journey to the Boston QZ. For so long you’d played it safe, but Joel had plans and you would follow his lead wherever he went.
Perhaps it was ridiculous to say you loved him now. In a world where the small hints of anything good were smothered before they could bloom into something more. Except you couldn’t deny what your heart knew was true—what it had been holding onto for months. You loved him. Possibly more than you could ever love someone, and that’s what scared you. Sent a sick feeling into your stomach, your heart twisting violently in your chest at the thought.
Traveling through the city was lethal—a death sentence—but you soon realized it wasn’t the most dangerous thing you could do.
Falling in love in a world intent on destruction was the true risk. Because whether you liked it or not, your entire life could come crashing down in an instant if you lost the man beside you.
Joel was your oxygen. The sole reason you were still alive. You couldn’t lose him.
You both ate in silence, an act that had become sacred to you as time went on. Just a small piece of normalcy that remained—something to remember your old lives by. While you couldn’t necessarily sit at a table and savor the meal. Both of you were content with this. A small amount of peace before chaos ensued once more.
The city called to you—beckoned you closer—and you had to be careful not to give in. There was an unspoken rule in all the traveling you’d had with one another. Joel was the leader in this situation and you were to follow what he said; after all he was simply trying to keep the both of you alive. So you did just that. You waited for him to finish eating and explain exactly how this was going to go down.
“You know…” You picked at the grass beneath you. “I’ve been thinking about what comes next.”
His eyes raised to meet your gaze—the once hardened stare now softened to something you now knew to be familiar. A look he only carried when he was around you. You felt something tug at your chest, warm and inviting.
“I want a home,” you said softly, twirling a dandelion between your fingers. “If that’s a possibility.”
The corners of his lips pulled upwards and you nearly missed the sight. But once you caught it…you couldn’t look away. Joel smiling was a rarity—this you knew to be a hard fact—but when he did the world lit up around him. His smile felt safe. As if he kept every ounce of love given to him in that single look.
“Could be a possibility,” he replied, shifting to where his arm was behind you—his weight leaning on it. “Got a place in mind?”
Heat bloomed beneath your cheeks, small petals of the dandelion flying off. “Nothing too fancy. Big enough for us and…well…it has to be just right.”
Perhaps your mind was playing a trick on you, creating fantastical sights that felt too good to be true, but Joel's smile deepened. A soft light entered his eyes for a brief moment, effectively stealing the breath right from your lungs. He was so beautiful when he smiled. As if he was gifted with it from the gods themselves—his own secret power at the end of the day.
"A house huh."
You nodded, still stunned in place as his smile remained intact. "I miss having a home."
Five words. That's all it took for light to be extinguished like a flame being put out. Sorrow seeped back into his face, his smile faltered, and you felt the world shift beneath your feet. Whatever you said triggered something in his mind. It dragged the memory to the front and forced him to watch with no escape. You know...because you'd been in his place before; you had been a victim to the horror of your own life, privy to the movie that never had an end.
The difference was with Joel you could do nothing but watch.
There was no pulling him out of it, no distracting him, because the memory had already started. So you sat in silence, waiting for it to run its course. Until Joel returned back to you. His smile was gone, face grim once more, and grief stained his soul. But you'd take him any way he was. You'd take him damaged and ruined beyond repair, as he would with you.
"We should get moving soon," he said, voice lower than before, eyes glassy with tears that would never fall.
You let out a breath as your heart sank deeper in your chest. "I'll put out the fire."
He didn't question you or even try to stop you. He simply let you do what you thought was best. Gathering his jacket and gun, he helped you to your feet, the furrow between his brows now set back in place. For a moment...he looked younger than his actual age. A man from the past peeked out, but nothing stayed the same for long.
Nothing good ever stuck.
"Once we get to the edge of the city we'll be out in the open for anyone to see." He slung his pack over his shoulder, handing you a knife to stick in your pocket as an extra precaution for what was to come. "You know I only have one rule darlin'."
Now felt like the perfect time to make a joke—to bring back his smile—but the serious tone of his voice lingered in the air. A reminder that you may be able to take care of yourself on your own, but traveling with Joel now meant you had his life to worry about too.
That alone was something you couldn't risk.
"Follow your lead."
He nodded. "We should be alright, but just in case stick close."
"I will." The idea that you'd stray far from him was ridiculous and he knew it, but the words had to be said. For his own peace of mind.
Somewhere in the middle of the trees there remained an old hiking path. A memoriam of the years that came before, and yet you couldn't picture tourists taking this road. Not even their footprints would survive twenty years of nature. No, this small but distinct path was carved by people traveling towards Boston. You liked to imagine that they made it eventually; that their lives went on in the QZ without issue. But reality always held a harsher reflection than you expected.
Twigs snapped beneath your boots as you trailed beside Joel, eyes set on what remained of the city skyline. Proof that humanity once lived on this planet.
"They'll be deeper inside the city lines," Joel said, dragging your attention away from the ruin. "It's likely there ain't been people for years. But we can’t be sure."
"No reason for activity then?"
He sighed, squinting his eyes against the blaring sunlight. "I'm not sayin' there'll be less. But we might not encounter them much if we’re lucky."
A small amount of relief spread through your chest, pushing against the constant fear that ate at your heart. Devouring it as if you were the meal it had been waiting for. A delicacy of the human body.
"Better than nothing."
He made a noise of agreement, taking the lead and heading deeper into the woods. Eventually they would become sparse, giving the both of you less coverage, until they disappeared altogether. Two decades was plenty of time for nature to reclaim parts of the city, but the cement and stone still remained. A permanent fixture of what used to be in front of you.
The city that used to never sleep, now forced to rest forever.
In the distance you swore you could hear the now familiar screech that haunted your dreams. But it was too far out for you to make out. So you followed Joel, the sun beating down on both of you even through the trees. Sweat stuck to the back of your neck, your fingers slippery on the trigger of your gun. And you both walked in silence—focused on your surroundings. Too anxious to even allow yourselves to whisper.
Yet with Joel it never felt like you were losing time.
How could you? When he was giving back what you lost.
No one else would do this. No one would bother to make sure that you got a chance to visit the city you dreamed about, the place where your future was supposed to be. But he would.
Joel would have given you the sun if you asked him to—if only to see you smile.
Your words from last night continued to rise to the surface, placing themselves on the tip of your tongue, and begging you to open your mouth. Yet as much as you wanted to stand atop the tallest building in the city and shout it from the top of your lungs, you knew you couldn't.
Those words remained hidden in your chest like a wound that could never truly heal. A gaping hole that forced you to bleed out each time you acknowledged its presence.
The sad part was that Joel wasn't the one to rip it open. He was simply someone who managed to stir it awake. He brought it to life with just one look. You started bleeding years ago with loss after loss, until eventually...you stopped trying to close it up with cheap booze and an even cheaper version of what you ached for.
What you needed to sustain you.
"You never told me," Joel said abruptly, shutting down those thoughts within seconds. "About your life."
You smiled despite the effort and lack of breath. "There's not much to tell."
"I doubt that darlin'." He fell into step with you, his hand brushing across yours gently, but even you knew holding hands wasn't a luxury you could afford right now. Not when you'd have to run at a moment's notice. "What was college like?"
Scoffing, you adjusted the strap of your pack. "Parties, hangovers, and lots of coffee."
"Sounds 'bout right."
"Why Joel Miller. Don't tell me you went to college."
He leaned into you, his shoulder hitting yours with enough force to throw you slightly off course. "I didn't. My brother Tommy did. Well...he enrolled."
"Ah yes. The infamous Miller," you joked, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself.
He snorted, wrapping it around your waist instead. "I wouldn't call him that."
"Then tell me about him."
His eyes met yours, grief still pressing against the light that once was there, but you could see something else linger below. A sense of joy that only came when talking about his younger sibling. A relief that he had family still alive, still around for him to worry about. You knew the fear remained that one day...he might not have that person to worry about, that the world would remain just as cruel as before.
That thought hit you harder than you would have liked—the face of your own brother flashing in your mind. You couldn't save him. Shit, you barely even knew if he was still alive or dead. And that in itself was a different type of grief; a horror you wouldn't wish on anyone.
Least of all Joel.
"He was in the army."
A fallen tree came into view, blocking the path. Joel climbed over it first, grunting as he jumped down, his feet slamming hard when he landed. He took your hand as you went next, helping you go softer than him, checking with a glance to make sure you hadn't snagged yourself on the split wood.
You recall your own brother enlisting, although your mother used to claim you were too young to remember the day he left. But you could make out the hazy images of tear filled goodbyes and hugs that lasted longer than normal. He joined to find purpose. You understood that now.
"Nearly gave our parents a heart attack when he came home with the news." Joel huffed, his hand still clasped tightly around yours. "But Tommy was eighteen. And damn stubborn."
You tried to picture the other Miller as you did when Joel first mentioned him, yet still came up blank. They must look alike. Maybe the same nose, or jaw. No matter how hard you tried though, you could see nothing but a faceless man—a blank slate to the one Joel spoke of so fondly.
"He's younger than you?"
Joel nodded. "By a few years."
The thought of Joel trying to be a good role model for his brother made you smile. You wondered if they ever got into trouble together, if there were stories he might tell you one day when you finally found a safe place to live.
"So...he was the troublemaker of the family."
His gaze slid over to you, eyebrow arching slightly in faux surprise. "I wouldn't say that."
You grinned. “Let me guess…” Joel’s hand tightened around yours. “You were the responsible brother.”
“I had to be.”
“He sounds fun. Maybe I should have met him first.” Glancing to your side, you didn’t see as his face darkened. A look of something wild crossed his face, the painful grip on your hand bringing you back as he yanked you forward. “Joel—”
Unexpected. That is what you continued to feel each time Joel kissed you. Unexpected in his action, unexpected in the feelings he buried beneath the rubble of his heart. You felt yourself stumble into his chest, his lips sliding against your roughly, as he gave into that wild unknown sensation.
A hunger that consumed him quickly. Larger than anything he’d known before.
He exhaled, pulling away with reluctance, and you nearly moved forward to take back that fleeting euphoria. His thumb and forefinger pinching your chin lightly kept you in place. Until you opened your eyes—catching his gaze. Want burned in his iris—turning the deep brown a shade of black—but something darker peeked out, a possessive glint. A promise that you were his.
“Trust me darlin’,” he murmured, lips pulling up into a small grin. Your stomach fluttered rapidly at the sight of his eyes sliding down to your lips—his tongue running along his bottom lip. You wanted it in your mouth. “You’ve got the better brother.”
That remained clear the second you met him. But the tease still lingered in the air. A hint of irritation plucked at Joel’s heart as he thought about you and Tommy instead. If there’s one thing he knew it was this: Tommy would make you laugh as often as possible. He wouldn’t quit until he saw joy overtake the grief on your face. But something told him you needed more than humor.
Even as you looked at him like that—eyes soft and hazy with need—he still felt the innate need to prove himself. To show that he was it for you; that no matter what happened next, Joel was going to be yours.
His face darkened and you longed to peel away the layers of murkiness that hid his true feelings.
But that was the thing about Joel. He’d never show you outright what he kept beneath the surface—not unless he was telling you himself.
His hand took yours again, a small kiss pressed to your temple as he started walking. Towards a future so tangible you could almost feel it between your fingertips. How it ebbed and flowed despite the endless mountain ridges you were yet to traverse.
There was no telling where it dropped off. Where this future finally settled, but regardless of what happened, you’d remain. You would choose Joel over and over again, even if this path led to your death. As long as he was safe—as long as he survived. To you Joel was the only thing you could save—having given up on yourself years ago.
You were two broken souls, but given the chance, you’d piece him back together.
You could see that the path veered back towards the forest, probably to some old forgotten campgrounds. A part of you nearly asked him to head that way, but you stopped before you started. The realization dawned on you quicker than you would have liked. How many people never made it home? How many lost parts of humanity still remained in a place meant solely for joy?
A cold unsettling feeling burrowed its way into your stomach, nausea rising quickly to the surface. Everywhere you looked, death stared back with an empty gaze.
A promise already embedded too deep to remove.
This is how it was always meant to go. This is where it would always lead to.
Joel couldn’t see the terror stricken expression across your face. You were in too deep to ask him for a rescue anyways. So you simply remained. Entrenched in the thick darkness. Yet your feet still moved, your body still complied. He led you closer and closer to the outskirts of the city. And where you expected fear to arise, you found nothing but numbness.
An echo of pain that called out to you. How could you fear what you already knew? The infected were no longer the embodiment of your worst horror come to life.
No, that title now belonged to the man holding your hand so gently in his. Squeezing every few minutes in an act of unconscious reassurance. His fate, his life, it all twisted together until you could barely catch your breath.
He turned to glance at you over his shoulder, his lips curving into a soft smile, the lines around his eyes deeper than before. You nearly gasped as you were yanked out of the darkness, warm air brushing across your face. For those few seconds you felt the sunlight against your face. The worries melted away and this is what you were left with.
Pure broken love.
“Tired?” he asked, oblivious to the way you were drowning.
You grinned, moving closer. “Not really.”
“We got a few more hours.”
Perfect.
You didn’t say it aloud, but you could see the sentiment was reflected back in his eyes. He wanted this as much as you. Where the world only existed in time spent alone. Where nothing could harm you here in your infinite haven with him.
Returning his smile, you squeezed his hand softly, doing what you could to burn the feel of his calloused skin into your mind. Whether it took a few hours or a few days, you didn’t mind. As long as it was with him.
Silence.
That’s all you heard throughout a city once plagued by noise. Where thousands of people used to live—creating the hustle and bustle of the city that used to never rest, now an echoey hollowness remained. At last…the city was asleep. And you hated it.
Life should spill out of every crack and crevice of this place, but there was nothing. You felt as if you should grieve for what once was, but no emotions rose to the surface. Instead you were faced with a bottomless pit of something that once existed.
Joel’s hand was replaced with your weapons, his gun clutched tightly in his own grip. You remained on the outskirts, but that didn’t mean you were safe. If anything you were in more danger this out in the open. There should have been something by now. Yet it seemed that fate had a different idea altogether.
In a way, you were beyond thankful, but uncertainty still remained. A reminder that this would only last for so long. Fate offered what it could, and you took without a second thought. There would never be another chance like this—never another moment of peace.
Sweat stuck to the back of your neck as you walked, eyes scanning the area like clockwork. Joel was a few paces ahead, his body tense, finger on the trigger in case of the worst. You hoped it would never come. Neither of you spoke for fear that whatever remained in the abandoned buildings could hear you. The air was sticky with heat and you felt your body begin to dry out the longer the both of you traveled.
“We can rest up ahead,” he called over his shoulder as if your thoughts were projected to him.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
It’s not that you didn’t trust him—you did—but wandering in the city felt like a risk you shouldn’t be taking more than a trip of enjoyment.
“I’ve got an idea.”
You scoffed. “That’s helpful.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t trust me now Boston,” he drawled with a halfway grin across his face.
“It’s kind of late for that…Texas.”
“No shit.”
You did your best to hold back the laugh that bubbled to the surface, but there was no use. You couldn’t stop it now. Joel looked surprised for a split second, his lips parting into a wide smile, until he began to laugh with you. Deep and rough and perfectly Joel.
This. This is what you ached for most. Joy—no matter how small—in a time where the concept no longer existed. If you could bring that to each other even as you fought to survive then you’d be okay.
In the near distance you could see it, a small section of benches surrounded by nothing but overgrown bushes, flower patches, and trees that would have never been allowed to grow that tall. A sense of elation filled your chest at the sight of a park. So out in the open, so mundane in a city quickly being overtaken by nature. Ivy trailed up the buildings as if that alone kept the ruins together, but you’d never seen something so beautiful.
“I got some food left over,” he muttered, rummaging in his pack as you took a seat on a bench covered by vines. “Nothin’ much, but it’ll work till we dig up somethin’ else.”
You took it gratefully, taking in the area with wonder as you caught every small piece that might show a hint of the past. Shop signs were broken off, rubble scattered through the streets, and abandoned cars were lined up like barriers to the inside of buildings. Perhaps people had come through here before, trapping the infected inside as they made their way through the city quickly.
“Do you remember what it was like?”
He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the coffee shop sign you were fixated on—half of it gone and broken on the asphalt. Everything here had been destroyed over the years. Taken, ripped a part, and left to rot. Yet the cracks in the streets where plants grew told Joel that life still found a way to flourish. Even as darkness and cruelty became the figurehead of humanity.
“Loud,” he said, biting into the dusty granola bar.
You smiled, shifting to make room for him as he joined you on the bench. “So I’ve heard. The city that never sleeps. I guess it was named that for a reason.”
“People were crammed into every corner.” He pointed up to a building in the distance. Surprisingly it hadn’t collapsed yet. “I stayed there. Fourth floor.”
“Hotel?”
He nodded. “Expensive as shit.”
“That tracks.”
“But I had fun.” He grinned, eyes distant as if replaying moments of his past, reliving what it was like to be in this city at the height of its prime. “Tommy wanted to move here. After the army.”
“Did you…want to go with him?”
Joel huffed, eyes falling to his hands as he broke apart the granola bar—anxiety bleeding off his body and seeping into yours. “No. That life was his. Not mine.”
Counting in your head, you tried to calculate at what age Joel might have been when Tommy came home. What might have happened in his life. Until the conversation from earlier came back to you like a fist to your face. Sarah. You tried to picture him as a young dad, raising a little girl, and suddenly the gap between your years and his felt like a chasm you shouldn’t cross.
A split in the ground so deep you could see right down to the center of the Earth.
“And to think,” you replied, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I could have met you here.”
His laugh was shadowed by pain—grief he’d never let you see in its entirety. “You wouldn’t have gone for me.”
“That’s not true.”
“What with you bein’ a fancy museum worker?” He turned, his nose brushing against yours. “Gettin’ you to look twice at me would have taken some effort.”
You smiled, stealing a kiss. “You’re wrong. I’d have asked you out in an instant if I saw you. Maybe…in a bar.” His laugh was soft, raspy as if he’d been shouting for hours. “Or a park.”
“Yeah?” You wanted to keep his smile. “How would it go?”
“Well…” Pulling back, you pressed a finger to your chin, eyebrows pulling together as you pretended to lose yourself in thought. “I’d begin the conversation, because you’re not much of a talker.” He pinched your side, drawing out a laugh.
“And you’d say?”
Forcing your face into a stoic expression, you grasped his shoulders. “Excuse me sir. Are you a fan of country music?”
He snorted, his body shaking as he broke between your palms. Laughing so hard he nearly dropped his granola bar on the floor. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine the sounds of the city in the background. The echo of what could have been reverberating to you through the years.
This would be it. The moment you knew you were head over heels for the man sitting beside you.
This is where you’d start to plan a future.
“And you’d say…of course, I’m from Texas darlin’.” You did your best to morph your voice into his, but couldn’t get through it without smiling.
Joel cupped your chin, tugging your lips close enough to feel them brush across his—your heart now beating an unsteady rhythm in your chest. “Of course.”
“And I’d say…that’s funny. I’m from Boston.” Sadness seeped into your heart when he looked at you like that—as if you were the only person to exist on this planet. His hope. His lifeline. “And the rest is history.”
He pressed his lips against yours, stealing a kiss soft enough to crack off another splinter of your heart. “I like that version of history.”
“Me too,” you breathed, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep the sting of tears at bay.
You could feel the pain in your feet begin to shoot through your lower back. Traveling steadily with each step. From what you could tell, the sun was dipping into mid afternoon, still early in the day, but late enough to cause worry. Staying in the city past nightfall didn’t bode well for either of you. Yet somehow…you were traveling deeper into the maze of fallen buildings and broken roads.
“Joel—”
He stopped in the middle of the road, his back straight and shoulders tense. You braced yourself for the worst, hands grabbing tightly onto the weapon clutched to your chest. A small chirp of birds sounded in the distance, animals echoing their sentiments back to the broken world around them. Yet nothing sounded dangerous enough to cause worry.
“What is it?”
Glancing back at you, he threw you a cautionary smile, head tilting as if to say join me.
So you followed his instruction. Stepping around the cracks in the street to stand close, facing him as he looked at something behind you.
“We’re here.”
Confusion lined your face, worry filtering through your chest. “Where’s…here?”
“Turn around.”
His hands grasped your shoulders, shifting you until you were staring at the building he was. And for a moment you nearly laughed; claimed it was a good joke walking you nowhere. Only for your eyes to catch sight of the cracked and broken steps before you. Weeds grew between what still remained and the front was blown to shit, but you’d recognize this building even with your eyes closed.
The final destination in the path of your old future.
“The Met?” you whispered, eyes wide in awe at the sight of such a grand building torn to bits.
He pressed his lips to your ear. “Thought you might want to see it in person this time.”
Those three words you uttered last night, barely spoken at all, suddenly felt too small to describe the depth of what you felt. You didn’t just love Joel. You would die for him. You’d take any pain he harbored and carry it as your own. And you’d do all this…because he’d do the exact same for you. Love felt too little in the grand scheme of things.
How could you simply love someone who would bring you the future and lay it at your feet?
“Is it safe?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, tinged by awe.
“Probably not.”
“So we could die?”
“There’s a good chance.”
You smiled, tangling his hand in yours. “I think it’s worth it.”
“Yeah.” He squeezed your palm softly. “I do too.”
Carefully he led you up the steps. A walk that felt surreal after years of dreaming this exact moment. You knew one day you’d get here. Whether that was with a degree and a resume in your hand, or holding the hand of a man who saved you. You didn’t care, because finally…there you stood.
Ivy crawled up the sides of the building, the doors were no longer attached, and you felt as if you were walking into a different universe. The entrance that you’d seen in brochures and pictures somehow looked prettier this way; slowly being captured by the hands of nature. As she shifted the land of humans to her point of view.
The almost crystalline marble shone differently in the direct sunlight. Glancing up you caught sight of the hole in the ceiling. This building must have been affected by the bombing.
“I remember this part,” he said suddenly, an awestruck expression painted across his face. He looked like a young man again, taking his first visit to this grand old museum.
“This is called The Great Hall. And it was Richard Morris Hunt that was the architect on the project. One hundred years ago. Well give or take a few years.”
A stream of words left your mouth without a single thought. Explanations of the different parts that once existed, the historical references for how they were built. And for a moment you felt nineteen again. Fresh out of an art history class; the knowledge once again at the forefront of your mind.
All the while Joel watched with a glint in his eyes, silent to what you had to say, yet focused entirely on you. The museum wasn’t important to him. Hell he barely gave a shit about what used to be here. But something changed in your demeanor as you spoke about art and the history attached to it. You bloomed before his very eyes.
You came alive.
“I wonder if a few of the paintings are still around,” you murmured, eyes averting to one side of the room. “Could we…”
He nodded, readying his gun. “We can try.”
You expected this place to be crawling with infected. At least a few here and there, yet nothing but silence greeted you with each new room you entered. It became unnerving after a while. As if fate was waiting to drop the other shoe, tearing apart something already special.
Hesitation lingered in each step you took, fear crawling along your nerves like a spider, until you entered a room filled with paintings torn apart. Once upon a time it was a gallery, yet now the delicate pieces of history were nothing but a reminder of what happened.
Tucked away on a side wall, you found a painting still hanging. A small crack went through the top corner of the glass covering it, but as a whole the piece remained pristine enough to make out.
“You know that one?” he asked, following your quick pace through the room.
“Allegory of the Planets and Continents.”
“Allegory huh?”
You nodded. “Painted by Tiepolo in…1752.”
“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”
“He did a lot of allegorical pieces.” You tilted your head, eyes tracing the intricate details that were nearly lost to time. Joel did the same. “I remember seeing this in a class presentation.”
He hummed, his gaze finding its way back to you. “And what does it mean?”
“A number of things really.” You pointed to the center. “That’s Apollo. And those are the gods as a representation of the planets. Mars, Jupiter, Venus. You know.”
“And them?”
You sighed. “Humanity.” His hand found its way towards yours, fingers twining together as you stood there. Alone in a museum together. “They’re waiting for Apollo to take to the skies and bring about the sun.”
“Seems like a lot of work for a God.”
The smile that crossed your face made Joel’s chest tighten. “I guess it was. Although it’s strange. Back then people were waiting for the sun and now…well now we wait for death.”
Pain flared in his heart quickly and without warning. But he did his best to force it down, steadying himself in your hold. Oh how he wished he could tell you the truth. About the past he had yet to accept as his own. About the bullet that never met its mark—the hand that remained unsteady even now.
“We should go soon,” you said, pulling him out of his own mind, and he nearly thanked you. “The sun will be going down eventually.”
He nodded. “Go out the way we came.”
It hurt to say goodbye to a building you’d never been in before. But that’s not where the pain stemmed from. You’d said goodbye to the prospect of what if a long time ago. You had to. This was from losing such a precious moment with Joel—a memory you’d hold onto for as long as you could. For that time…you were simply two people wandering the halls of a museum together. Finally on a date after so long traveling.
Maybe if you had met years before in a bar or in a park. You wouldn’t have to say goodbye.
The sunlight felt different back on the steps, brighter, crueler. As if Apollo was mocking you for such a small hope, such a small dream come to life. Yet even now you couldn’t blame him.
You headed back the way you came through the city. But your feet were weary, your body drooped with each step, and eventually you’d collapse on the asphalt just as the buildings once did. Joel could tell with each look he threw your way, checking to make sure you were in fact following him. He wouldn’t have put it past you to remain in that building.
To make a home with history.
“We can’t sleep here,” he said, pausing to let you catch your breath.
“I know. My feet just…”
He nodded solemnly, squinting against the sunlight. “Wait here.”
“Joel?”
There was no time to question his actions, because you were out of breath as it was, and he was moving further away quicker than you expected. Standing there in the middle of the street wasting sunlight turned your insides with every second that passed. Your eyes caught sight of him turning a corner before he vanished entirely from your sight. And you held onto the thin shred of sanity you had left in your body.
You trusted Joel. A fact truer than anything you’d known in your life.
So you waited, watched your surrounding areas, and held your breath.
If you weren’t so unnerved by the silence, you might have found it enjoyable. Some peace before the two of you went in search of a QZ that may no longer be there. That thought never occurred to you—traveling with Joel kept you distracted enough to where you didn’t focus on the important things. The question that now picked at your heart.
What were you supposed to do if the QZ wasn’t there? Where would you go?
Blind faith is all that kept you going, but that never seemed to be enough. In the end you were left with nothing but disappointment. You’d run all out of faith when it came to the fates. The still healing wound on your side was proof enough of that.
The echo of dried leaves cracking beneath feet signaled to you that Joel must have returned. Whatever he was looking for must have been a bust. The smile on your face and tease right on the tip of your tongue died in moments as you turned. A rock falling to your stomach, filling you with dread.
Dried blood caked down the side of their face. A deep red now a rust brown; a stark contrast to the green moss that covered their torn clothes.
Every time you saw one you felt the punch to your gut grow stronger. As if lead embedded itself in your flesh. Again. Your breath came in short, eyes stuck staring at what was once a person. They stumbled forward, body twitching with every stunted shift. And you wanted to scream. Shout for Joel, but your mouth sealed itself shut, your body rooted to the ground beneath you.
The whole time you were aching for life to return to this city, you forgot. Life already existed here. Mangled and rotting and steeped in death.
But life nonetheless.
They turned, eyes glassy and empty, but somewhere in the depth of them they recognized that you were alive. Your heart pounded against your chest, louder than their fucking screech. It pierced right through your skin, a slice to the already existing wound.
You clutched Joel’s gun, finger sliding along the trigger. It was easy enough to pull, to set the bullet flying towards its mark. And you should have pulled it, should have watched as they dropped, but like an idiot…you hesitated.
Why the fuck did you hesitate?
A pause of silence filled the space, echoing louder than any gun could have, before time slowed before your very eyes. How fucking stupid of you. To think you’d be safe. They clocked your shift back, head twitching, before that horrifying click you’d come to hate echoed in your ears. You were dead the second they started to run, limbs flying and body thrashing, as if the control stemmed to one part.
One sole purpose.
Infect.
“Fuck!” you shouted, ignoring the ache in your feet as you sprinted in the direction Joel disappeared to. If you were lucky he was still there.
Yet life had a way of proving to you that luck had nothing to do with why you remained alive.
“Joel!” You gasped for breath, doing what you could to ignore how they sped up behind you, their screech somehow louder as it echoed off the buildings around you. “Joel!”
If you could get the upper hand you could put a bullet in their skull, but your thought process happened too late. Glancing over your shoulder, you were blinded by their body launching at you. Toppling you to the ground as they scratched for your face, any part of you they could sink their teeth into. You don’t remember screaming, or even calling Joel’s name. You simply fought. You tugged on the loose thread of pure fucking rage that called your name—screamed for you to do survive.
“You piece of shit!” you yelled, managing to hold them off with your forearm, your fingers grappling for the knife attached to your side. “You fucking animal!”
“Boston!”
Yanking it out, you nearly cried in relief as you jammed it into their neck, shoving it in deep enough to hear a crunch as it met bone. Satisfaction pulled at your chest. You didn’t stop there. Dragging it out, you sliced through their shoulder, their throat, any part of them you could reach. Until you were no better than the monster that now lay above you. Lifeless.
Hands came out of nowhere, grasping onto their corpse and shoving it off you. You nearly took a swing at the person above you, the red fury blinding you to anything that could have existed nearby. The feral piece of your heart—the survivor—had been set in motion and they called for blood.
Joel’s hands yanked the knife out of your clutch, his voice calling your name, and for a moment you felt lost to the depths of your own fury. You would have killed him if he wasn’t fast enough to dodge that knife.
“Boston!” He pressed you to the ground, his body sitting on your waist, hands keeping your wrists together. “Baby it’s me.”
The breath in your lungs escaped in a sharp gasp, your body stilling within seconds. Only a few times in your life had you succumbed to that raw emotion that scratched and clawed at your chest. Some days you claimed it kept you alive. Others you ignored its existence in the hopes that it would disappear for good. It was the darkness you refused to see—the one thing you wouldn’t accept about yourself.
“You’re okay,” he mumbled, releasing the hold he had on your hands in order to cup your face. “It’s dead. It’s gone. You killed it.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Why…did you leave?”
Leaning forward he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath hot across your chin. “I’m sorry darlin’. I keep doin’ that.”
Inhaling his breath, you did what you could to regulate your heart. “And I keep nearly dying.”
He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Nearly. Not if I got a say in the matter.”
Dirt covered your back as he helped you to your feet, and before you could shake it off, he brushed his hands along your body. Patting it off as best he could. The act shouldn’t have brought tears to your eyes, it shouldn’t have even been noteworthy. But the tenderness behind his touch reminded you what you could have lost.
“I want an explanation,” you said, your voice thick with tears. Thankfully he chose to ignore it.
“I found somethin’.” He pointed to a shop that held no sign, no indication that it was anything before this. “You might like it.”
You struggled to put the knife back in its place—still wary and on edge. “This better be good Texas. I didn’t almost die for nothing.”
Joel didn’t respond, but you caught the flash of something crossing his face. Dark enough to cause worry. And you wanted to ask, to prod and poke at what he was keeping to himself, but the way his fingers tightened on his gun told you enough. He didn’t like to think of you that way. Dead on the ground in a city that he brought you to. A trip that was meant to be filled with joy.
“Follow me,” he stated, pushing open that already broken door.
You half expected to see a shop, something frivolous from the past, but the sight of a garage nearly stopped you in your tracks. A dusty brown cover cloaked something in the middle, but the shape was familiar enough to light up your chest. A car. Joel tugged at the cover, kicking up dirt and whatever else lay atop, but you couldn’t care less.
It’s once beautiful dark red color looked aged with however long it had been here. Never one to know cars, you simply knew that it was expensive—a thing that would have cost the entirety of your tuition at one point.
“How…” you breathed.
“Saw the logo on the window,” he replied. “I figured it was a hardware store until I came in.”
“Does it work?”
He shrugged. “Probably not.”
You deflated slightly. “Can we…fix it?”
The sun was going down faster than you would have liked and Joel knew it. He could see how you were both losing time the longer you were there. But the prospect of having an escape kept him on the edge. His grim expression made the choice for you as you moved to pop the hood. Your bag, now discarded on the floor by his feet.
“I don’t know much about cars—”
“Lucky you got me.”
“Don’t tell me. You’re a contractor who knows cars?”
Joel huffed. “Someone had to help my brother fix up his shitty truck.”
The words were good enough for you as he moved you out of the way, ducking down to peer at the engine. His shirt tugged up his back as he leant forward, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. If it were any other time and the prospect of this car working didn’t depend on life or death, you would have sat back and admired him.
But the edge from earlier still ran through your veins, adrenaline the only thing that kept you upright and stable. Joel worked silently, cursing under his breath every now and then. Only speaking to ask for certain tools. And you watched the sun begin to dip lower. Suddenly you found yourself regretting never taking auto shop in high school. Choosing wood shop over it in a heartbeat.
“Turn her over,” he said, wiping the sweat away from his neck. You felt warmth pool in your stomach at the sight.
Jamming the screwdriver into the ignition, you turned it slowly, hope cresting at the top of your chest. Only for the sputter of an engine to die out in seconds.
“Shit,” he muttered, glancing back at the work he’d put in. “The battery ain’t dead yet and I fixed everythin’ else. Try again for me darlin’.”
You repeated the motion, pressing down on the gas pedal, clutching the wheel in your hand. Whether it was you attempting to force life into the car, or sheer fucking luck, you’d never know. But the echo of the engine roaring to life flooded you with enough relief you fell back into the seat with a smile.
“Joel?”
He looked up, a smile of pride across his lips. “Yeah baby?”
“Let’s get the fuck out of New York.”
Nodding, he tossed your bag into the backseat as you let him slide into the driver's seat. “I like the sound of that.”
The calm of the forest welcomed the both of you with open arms. As if promising the rest you ached for desperately. Miles and miles of trees—of different shades of green and brown—were softly illuminated by the sun steadily dipping in the sky. In an hour or less night would be upon the world and this day, no matter how special, would have to come to an end.
You tried not to think about it; the idea of having to say goodbye to something you’d cherish. What would keep you going if Joel and you were to ever part. What you wouldn’t do to keep the sun in the sky for a while longer. Give up a few years of your own life, of the future you planned with hope filled eyes and empty hearts.
If staying here—in this moment—was an option, you wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance.
Joel slammed the trunk of the car shut, a small box of cans he found buried in the back of the garage, clutched in his hands. Despite the prospect of all this eventually ending, you caught the hint of a smile on his lips. Barely there, yet bright enough to light up your heart like a match being struck.
You found yourself smiling back—heart hammering loudly in your chest.
“We’ve got…” He raised a can covered in dents and coated in a thick layer of dust. “‘M gonna assume it’s soup.”
“Lovely,” you laughed, your face twisting up in disgust as he tossed it to you.
The dust was sticky beneath your fingers, as if something had spilled across it years ago. You figured it was best not to question more than necessary. Settling on the ground, you plunged your knife into the cover, taking a hesitant whiff of something probably expired past saving. Much to your surprise though, a pungent scent of tomatoes greeted you.
“Raviolis,” you exclaimed, delight scrawled across your face.
You wished you could have seen Joel’s eyes go soft, seen the way he practically melted at the expression of joy you wore. Joel Miller remained hard as stone to the rest of the world, but in moments like this, when peace was prominent and life gave way to something other than pain. He allowed himself to feel. For a bit…he was the man he might have been a decade ago.
“Good enough for me.”
Prying the lid off, you watched as he set up stones for a small enough pit. You were far enough in the forest that it would take people several hours to get to you. Far enough away from civilization of any kind. What remained in the city, the bits and pieces left behind, would never be enough to build what used to exist. Like it or not…that part of the world had come to a close.
The chapter sealed and signed off with enough blood to keep it shut forever.
“Thank you,” you said softly as he struck a match from the small box you kept in your pack. “For today.”
He grinned, glancing down at his hands that fiddled with a stick. “Was nothin’ really. You wanted to see the city and we were heading this way—”
“Joel.” Cupping his face, you shifted his shining brown eyes until they were upon your face. Gazing at you with a look he’d never shown you before. “You gave me a day I’ll never forget.” He chuckled, grasping onto your waist gently. “Thank you.”
Those two words didn’t seem like enough to get your message across. You wanted to do the same for him. To give him something he’d remember, but nothing felt enough.
He pulled you closer. “Would have been better if you didn’t get attacked.”
“Well…” You looped your arm around his neck. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you.”
Something shifted in the air between you the second he led you up those cracked and broken museum steps. The front of the building had been blown clean off by bombs, but you’d recognize it anywhere. The place where your future once led to. A home in your heart for so long. A dream not yet come to life. Joel took care to lead, to put himself in harm's way to keep you safe. But it was more than that.
He gave you time to look.
To take back a part of your past you never got to have.
An act that he’d never be able to do. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t take anything from his past that hadn’t already been destroyed. The watch on his wrist was all he’d keep. But you…he could give this to you. He could heal something in your heart you didn’t even realize was broken.
“I’d do it again,” he murmured, lips sliding along the inside of your wrist, nose pressed to your palm.
Your heart ached for him; body burned for him. And in the lowlight of the sun, you found your hope in him. It glimmered softly, barely within reach, but Joel had kept it for you all this time. He made sure to protect what you couldn’t—what you had given up.
“Kiss me,” you whispered, catching his quickly darkening gaze. “Please.”
The crackle of the flames couldn’t hide his small groan of pleasure as his lips met yours. What he intended to be soft, reverent in a way he’d never been before, shifted rapidly. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapped gently around your throat to keep you in place. To help him devour you a bit deeper. That alone sent a flutter to rush through your entire body, your fingers digging into his wrist, silently begging for him to press down tighter.
To cut off the air he exhaled into your lungs.
“You got no idea—” He sucked in a breath when your lips met his throat, teeth nipping at the salty skin. Red bloomed beneath the surface as you went, small marks and bruises to prove that he wasn’t dreaming. That this trip was real—that you were real.
He growled, fingers tightening around your throat to pull your lips back to his, a rough breath exhaled into your open mouth. “No idea what you do to me darlin’.”
Sticky warm wet heat spilled into your stomach, flooding your already damp panties. The can was forgotten on the edge of the pit, his touch far more enticing than a few meager pieces of food. If you could survive on one thing alone, you’d want it to be him. You would train your body to sustain itself on his touch, his tongue sliding along yours, his fingers digging into your skin.
He’d become your oxygen, your reason for living.
“I-I do.” You gasped as his teeth dug into your throat, hands quickly stripping you of your flannel. Helping him, you yanked at your shirt, discarding it to the side. Nothing mattered but the feel of his tongue tracing along your skin—the hot mix of his touch and spit made you dizzy. “You do the same to me.”
A soft grunt was muffled into your chest, his hips rising up to grind against something. To gain what little friction he could.
In the midst of kissing him, he managed to drag you into his lap, your knees pressed to the forest floor on either side of his hips. Your body, as close as you could get with clothes in the way. You could feel the heavy press of him against your thigh and clenched around nothing. The needy emptiness that slammed into your body was nearly too much, but you held onto what little fragments of sanity still remained.
You clung to the bits of yourself he wished to consume, knowing the consequences of what might come afterwards.
But how could you give a fuck about consequences when his touch lit you up like the fire to your left? How could you care about anything else? When his lips wrapped around your peaked nipple and sucked at it as if you were his source of life.
His hands slid up your back, skin hot wherever he touched, as he pulled you down into his lap a bit more. Enough to feel the familiar press of his cock straining against his jeans. The sun was nearly gone now, light bleeding through the branches of the trees, and you let the warmth consume you. You relished in its burning caress as he worshiped your skin with his mouth, his hands that had spilled blood for you.
“Need to be—” He bit off with a sharp moan as you rolled your hips down, giving him the pressure he needed. “Fuck keep doin’ that.”
You were desperate for him and you weren’t afraid to admit it to yourself. The infatuation bordered on obsession, but if you were to say that about him he’d finally have to admit the same to you. He’d have to crack open his chest, bleed through your fingers like sand, and allow you to dig your way to his heart. As if you were conducting an autopsy on his body—picking a part each dark piece that he was ashamed to hold onto.
“Touch me,” you whined, digging your fingers into his hair as he dug his into your hips. A burning bruising touch that left you needy.
He grinned, pulling at the button of your pants. “I am touchin’ you darlin’.”
“You—fuck, fuck, fuck—” His fingers slid through your slick, finding their way to the parts of you he’d memorized in such a short time. Your clit practically throbbed beneath his touch, body shuddering as he circled it with enough pressure to electrify your nerves. “Yes.”
“That’s what you want?” The question was irrelevant. He knew this better than you, but that wasn’t what he was asking.
Is this enough? This quick fuck beside a fire as you both hid the real reason. Was his touch, his kiss, enough to show the truth?
Was he enough?
You choked out a soft yes, your lips finding his in a sloppy spit slicked kiss, and his fingers became insistent in their determination to watch you break. Joel had become addicted to the sight. His very own guilty pleasure—yet how could he feel guilty about something so angelic? How could he repent for a sin that he’d give up everything for? What was the point of worshiping at an altar when heaven existed between your thighs?
Eventually his fingers wouldn’t be enough. For either of you. But he was focused on one thing, feeling your pussy spill along his palm. He sunk two fingers into you knuckle deep and smiled as your head fell back, a throaty moan echoing off the trees. You grinded against his hand, fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. And this was enough.
“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, hand still placed around your throat. His cock leaked as it constricted with your swallow and images of what he’d look like in your mouth flashed in his mind.
“M-More—” You gasped, your clit dragging along the heel of his calloused palm.
But you had begged for something else and Joel was never one to deny you. He ripped at your pants as you did the same with his, your lips messy and rough against his. You swallowed his moan the second your cold hand wrapped around his throbbing cock—precum sliding down your palm as he did his best not to finish there and then. He was so fucking wound up that this would be over before it began.
Neither of you cared.
“You’ve gotta know,” he rasped, gripping onto your bare hip as you hovered directly over his cock. Your pussy practically dripped onto him.
“Know what?” you sighed, sliding him through your slick.
He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of you. The shine of firelight and sunlight played against your skin and Joel felt his body tighten painfully. The view alone nearly made you double over in pleasure, your breaths coming in short gasps as he fought to finish on the front of your pussy.
“That I—” He gasped as you began to sink down onto him, encasing him that sticky heat he’d begun to think was the cause of his demise. He’d never be able to live without this. Without getting to carve his way into your body. “Fuck darlin’.”
You grinned, cupping his chin and pulling his attention back. “I’ll go slow.”
“You don’t have to take it easy on me.”
“Seems like I might.”
A rumble started in the base of his chest, lips curving up as he caught your mouth in a searing kiss you felt down to your toes. The grip on your throat tightened as you began to move slowly, letting him pull out of you slow enough to cause madness to rise in your chest. Like a burn you refused to let go of. Joel had other ideas. He yanked you down with enough force to drag out a high pitched cry from your chest, your mouth falling open in a silent scream when he set his own pace.
Quick and fast and filthy enough to sign your name on hell’s roster. He wanted to fuck himself into your body so deep he was buried there. Wanted to paint your insides until you were leaking him all morning. He wanted to etch himself into your soul.
Permanent and without shame.
“C’mon darlin’.” His teeth dug into your jaw, pain slicing through the pleasure deliciously. “Let me hear ya.”
You curled into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded up into you. “‘S good,” you gasped, coherency going right out the window.
He grinned, tugging at your throat. “You can do better than that.”
Words faintly entered your mind before disappearing seconds later as he tilted your hips slightly. You scratched at his chest when his cock struck right where you needed him. Right where your mouth began to form words you fought so hard to keep at bay. Words that revealed too much, gave a window into your heart, and if you had the capability you’d shut your fucking mouth. But it was far too late for that.
“You like that?” he groaned, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as he kept the angle. The veins on his neck were strained, begging for you lick at them, and you dipped down to distract yourself from the words.
The one thing that seemed to catch his attention.
“What was that?”
You whined, wrapped an arm around his neck as you dragged your hips along the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Nothing,” you mumbled, sucking at his neck.
Only for him to pull you off by your throat, his lips hovering over yours. “What’d you say?”
“I—” You clung to him, begging for the truth to sink back into your chest. But he was staring at you with dark eyes and a parted mouth begging for you to kiss it. He looked at you as if you were ethereal and for that small moment, you believed it. “I love you.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering in their movement. You watched his eyes go wide, understanding finally dawning across his features, and you prepared yourself for the worst. You waited for him to reject you. The words never came. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue sliding along yours, as he sped up his thrusts. Grunting into your mouth with each one—his body taut and begging for release.
“Yeah?” he panted into your mouth. You nodded, feeling the burn of pleasure begin to flash white behind your shut eyes.
“So much,” you sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks. Something pulled tight in your stomach, building with each stunted move of his body against yours. You needed it, would beg on your knees for it, and Joel was right there with you.
His dark gaze met yours as he finally released your throat in favor of finding your clit. “Say it again.”
Heat rocketed up your spine as you locked down around his cock, his fingers insistent and rough. “I love you!” you cried, trembling in his hold. Those three words you’d been so afraid to say out loud finally spilled free over and over and over again. Until you couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud rush in your ears.
He slammed his hips up one last time, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, and found his own peak. Spilling into you with a moan, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed up close. You wondered if he feared you’d vanish before his very eyes.
“I love you,” he sighed, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut to your own wide gaze.
The words didn’t register at first, simply flying directly over your head. Yet as silence wrapped around your entwined bodies, sunlight disappearing over the last of the trees, you finally understood. No orgasm could match the absolute bliss that filled your body at the echo of his voice forming those words. Of their soft cadence. He was hesitant to look at you, to face what could finally break him, but your hands cupping his face drew him out of his own mind.
“Say it again,” you whispered, smiling so bright your cheeks ached. “Please.”
Before you could bask in their beauty, he was pulling away. Digging into his pack that lay behind him. You wanted to stop him, bring him back to this current moment, but the glint of something gold caused you to freeze. The breath once again caught in your chest.
For the first time you saw Joel grow nervous. Almost bashful as he lifted his hand and allowed a small green jewel on a gold chain to dangle between the both of you. The last of the sunlight glinted off the emerald and for some reason it reminded you of him. How it shone in those rare moments when light caught it just right. Yet held a darkness to it, a hidden truth yet to be revealed.
“I love you,” he said, pressing the necklace into your palms. “I always will darlin’.”
Tears dripped onto his hands as you clutched the dainty piece of jewelry to your chest. “Oh Joel.”
“It’s not a ring—”
You silenced him with a tear filled kiss, salt spilling across his tongue. He did what he could to wipe them away, but like it or not there seemed to be no end in sight. Not when your heart finally latched onto all those broken pieces you thought were lost. Joel did the one thing you never thought possible. He healed you.
“It’s enough.” You smiled into his kiss, the necklace digging into your palm—carving its shape into your skin. “You’re enough.”
You could see it now. The path your future led to. Not a building, or a job, or even a home. The end of your path—your grand plan—would always and forever lead to him.
#this is so long i don't even know what to say#um...i'm sorry for what's about to happen next????#ANYWAYS I'M JUST GONNA *dips for fear of this flopping*#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller smut#joel miller#the last of us fic#my writing
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Ace: Yo, Epel! What did you do in Professor MC's class?
Deuce: I heard everyone's saying it was difficult.
Epel: Yes. At first. But some of us is getting the hang of it.
Ace: So, what do they teach?
Epel: How to improve our reflexes, conceal our presence, and self-meditation.
Ace and Deuce: Whoa...
Ace: I wish we're in the same class too.
Deuce: *nods*
Epel: Don't worry. Sensei will teach the same thing too to all first years after you're finished with all the projects you have. *chuckles*
Ace: Ugh... Our brain's hurting with all of that, you know?
Deuce: Professor Trein and Professor Crewel are torturing us with all the advanced projects.
Deuce: I'm afraid I'll be getting an F with all of them...
MC: *puts an arm around their shoulders* Are we forgetting the ultimate rule?
Ace and Deuce: Sensei?!
Epel: Sensei! Where did you come from?
MC: Hm? I walked here. Didn't you see me, Mr. Felmier?
Epel: ...
MC: *squints their eyes*
Epel: Sorry, sensei... I need to practice more.
MC: *laughs* It's alright. You were exhausted from the special class, I know.
MC: Anyway, Mr. Trappola and Mr. Spade. If a project or homework is causing you some headache, you should put it down on your desk. Do some gaming or whatever you do on your free time and do it after when your brain is more relaxed.
Ace: But Sensei... *pouts* Was it not that the exact opposite of what you did to us?
MC: Heartache is different from headache, Mr. Trappola~.
Ace: Ugh.
Epel: *laughs*
MC: *ruffles their hair and gives them a light push on the back* Do your best. I'm excited to see all the first years in the special class.
Deuce: See you, sensei!
Ace: We'll take your advice to heart.
Epel: I'll be back to my dorm now, sensei. See you tomorrow in special class.
MC: *smiles*
MC: *having a light conversation with the ghost chefs in the cafeteria*
Scarabia student A: Do you think we can approach MC-sensei while they're on lunch break? I have something important to ask.
Scarabia student B: Just do it later.
Scarabia student A: Okay...
MC: *stops talking to the ghosts, looks at their direction, tilting their head, and smiling*
Scarabia students: ...
Scarabia student A: I'm gonna ask now! *gets up from his seat and runs to them*
Scarabia student B: I told him to do it later. *sigh*
Kalim and Jamil: ...
Scarabia student A: *comes back, smiling* Sensei said I just needed to make a few adjustments with my project and it will be all perfect.
Scarabia student B: Dude.
Jamil: But next time, you should not bother sensei in their lunch break.
Kalim: Though, didn't they say they would be always happy to help?
Jamil: They're only saying that because they're new.
Scarabia student C: Is it just me or sensei seems to know that Sir Jamil is talking about them?
Kalim: Yeah... They're making this sad face.
Jamil: There's no way—
Ortho: *has approached him* MC-sensei wants to talk to you. Are you free this afternoon?
Jamil: ...
Kalim: Uh-oh. Looks like you're in trouble.
Jamil: *frowns*
Jamil: You want to talk to me, sensei?
MC: Come and take a seat, Mr. Viper. *smiles*
Jamil: *takes the seat in front of them*
MC: Hmhmhm~
Jamil: ...
MC: Remember what I told you?
Jamil: You mean, from the last infiltration event?
MC: Hm!
Jamil: ...
Jamil: I'm still going to deny it.
MC: It's fine. I'm not forcing you to admit it anyway.
Jamil: *blinks in confusion* You... won't?
MC: Everyone has their own personal reasons.
MC: I'm just hoping you're doing it on your own accord and not because you've been told to do so.
Jamil: ...
MC: That's all I wanted to tell you. You may leave now.
Jamil: Sensei.
MC: Hm?
Jamil: I'm... one, selfish student, who thinks he's better than anyone.
MC: Hehe~ In some cases, you are, Mr. Viper.
MC: You deserve some acknowledgement.
*Back in Scarabia*
Kalim: How was your conversation with them?
Jamil: *couldn't help but smile while he's cooking* Not bad.
#twisted wonderland#twst mc#twst ace#twst deuce#twst epel#twst kalim#twst jamil#twst ortho#twst professor mc
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Better Man
just a little angst about better man (taylor's version)!
Sometimes in the middle of the night I can feel you again, but I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man.
You knew letting him past the front door was a bad idea, but you didn't always have the strongest resolve, especially when it came to your ex.
Harry was laying on the other side of your bed, his back turned to you as he slept soundly on familiar sheets. You should've been asleep, but it didn't come. So you stayed awake, staring at Harry's back as it rose and fell. You admired his broad shoulders, the constellation of freckles all over, the birthmark. It was a familiar canvas, but it wasn't yours anymore. Him being here didn't change that.
"I can feel you staring," Harry mumbled, words pushed together like he was still half asleep.
"Sorry," you said before turning over.
There were only a few beats of silence before you heard sheets rustling as Harry shifted and draped an arm across you. The scent of his cologne was dizzying as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
"Out with it then," he said, sounding a little more awake.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I know you, Y/n. You sleep like the dead unless something is on your mind."
He was right, of course, but that was part of the problem. He knew you too well.
"I just…miss you, that's all."
And God did you miss him. Harry was…well, you thought he was everything. For years, the two of you were inseparable, so incredibly in sync with each other. Harry brought out the best in you, made you comfortable in your own skin. He made you feel seen and taken care of and loved.
Until he didn't.
Breaking up with Harry was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It was messy, he didn't see it coming—which was another problem of its own—there were periods where you would somehow end up sleeping in each other's homes for days at a time afterwards, and the periods when those days ended felt soul crushing. Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself. Harry loved you, that was never a question. He just…he wasn't what you needed anymore.
"I miss you too. Constantly," he said. "But you don't have to, you know. Miss me. I've always been right here."
You kissed his arm. "I know, but we broke up for a reason, Harry."
He sighed, because he never could grasp why things ended, he couldn't figure out why you would ever want to leave him. As much as you loved each other, you were on different pages, wanted different things, became different people—or rather, he changed and you stayed the same. Harry was at a point in his career where the whole world was at his fingertips, and he wanted it too, wanted to reach and reach and reach. You didn't blame him for that, he was good at what he did, out of this world. But he'd made promises before, when he was just yours. When the world called, he changed his mind, and he wanted you to change yours with him.
Part of you knew that perhaps he'd made those promises out of fear of losing you, that he wasn't the type to believe in a simple kind of love. It always had to be more with Harry. And perhaps he wasn't aware, but you knew it was because he was afraid of love, of letting people see the worst parts of him along with the best. You knew that and fell in love with him anyway. He would be the one to break your heart but you let him do it happily.
"I love you. Can't that be enough?"
You did your best to hide a sniffle. "I wish it was, but something has always held you back from me," you said, your thumb running along his arm. "I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve."
"Then why keep letting me in?"
"Because you're a hard man to say no to, Harry Styles," you laughed, but it was more sad than humorous. Even as you talked about being apart, all you wanted to do was pull him even closer. In a lot of ways, Harry still felt like home. You were safe right there in bed wrapped up in him. "And despite my best efforts, I'm still in love with you."
Harry sighed and pulled you closer to his chest. "I want you. I can't even think about anyone else. It makes no sense for us to be broken up when we both want the same thing."
"But we don't," you said. "You want me on the sidelines cheering you on with no ambitions of my own."
"That's not—"
"You want me to watch while others throw themselves at you and pretend like it's fine because it's all for show. You want me to be another trophy in your collection, Harry, and I—I'm so much more than that."
You twisted around to face him, only to find that there were tears lining his eyes. You hated seeing him cry. It always twisted your gut into a tight knot.
"Is that really what you think of me?" he asked, sounding hurt, betrayed.
"You told me you loved me, that you wanted me in your life, but I was never a part of it," you said.
Harry had promised that nothing would ever change, that he only wanted to take on the world if he had you by his side. And you believed him at first, but somehow you'd fallen to the wayside. He left you to fend for yourself at parties with people you didn't know, took on more opportunities and projects that kept him and you apart for longer periods of time, going out almost every night and sleeping through the day, leaving you such little time alone with him. Sometimes it felt like the only way to see him was in an interview or music video.
And the moments when you had him all to yourself were perfect. He was completely and totally yours. He doted on you, took you on dates, made you breakfast in bed. He made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and in those moments, you knew he loved you, that he would never be tempted by anyone else. Harry really was yours, you could feel it with every cell of your body.
But those moments were fleeting. He was gone for longer periods of time, and you didn't know how to make him understand that you needed him to stay longer than the few days off he got while touring. For a long time, those stolen moments were enough, until they weren't anymore. Harry stayed away longer, and you felt him slipping. The hand you had wasn't a winning one, so you folded before he could break your heart. Well, more than breaking up with him did.
This wasn't a life together, it was just his, and you were along for the ride.
"I wanted to build a life for us. I wanted to make myself into someone you would be proud of," he said.
Your smile was sad as you threaded a hand through his hair. "I've never not been proud of you. You've always been enough, H, I don't know why you've never seen it."
To say Harry was complicated was an understatement. Even when you met he had his fair share of demons. But everyone did, and you loved him as he was. As he began to gain notoriety, he began reinventing himself, to be someone that was loved by everyone. You knew who he was was enough, but you couldn't get through to him, he needed validation from the world. Once you realized how deep that insecurity was rooted, you knew you couldn't fix him, he needed to do it himself. And you deserved someone who wasn't so obsessed with seeking approval from others that they overlooked the people that loved them most.
"All I ever wanted was to give you the world," he whispered, his gaze trained on where your hand was still on his cheek.
"All I ever needed was you," you replied, moving your hand to rest it over his heart. "I'd like to believe that the man I met so many years ago is in there somewhere, but I can't count on waiting to see him again. I—I'm not going to put myself in a position to make you choose when I know what your choice would be."
You didn't really believe that fame was something that would ever change Harry, but it did. Or it preyed on his deepest insecurities, and he let it happen. You loved him, and it hurt to see him so broken, especially when he didn't even seem to realize it, but you couldn't hold his hand while he untangled his messes anymore.
"I love you," he said again. "I have never stopped loving you."
"I have seen every facet of who you are, and I've never loved you less, flaws and all," you said, and it was true. Despite everything, Harry was a hard person not to love, and there were moments where he made you feel like you were more important to him than anything else in his life. The secret smiles and stolen kisses and songs that were made just for you. He was the kind of person that burned so brightly, but that also meant he cast just as big a shadow, and those shadows could be all-consuming. "You're a good man, Harry. I just…I think I just deserve better than you."
Harry didn't argue with you about it. He didn't try to contradict you or give you a list of reasons why you should be together. He just hung his head and held you close, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You let yourself rest your cheek against his chest, his skin warm and familiar. It felt so right to be there, you couldn't fathom anyone else feeling as good as Harry did. Maybe no one ever would.
Wrapped up like this, your eyes grew heavy, and it became harder and harder to stay awake. Harry hadn't fallen asleep yet, you could tell just by the erratic beat of his heart against your cheek. Moving your head just to the side, you kissed him right there, right where his heart laid beneath his chest. Your heart squeezed, as if it knew this was the last time you would be letting Harry through your front door.
Turning your head to the side once more, you let yourself fall asleep on his chest, a couple tears slipping past your tired eyes.
Still awake, Harry ran a hand through your hair, letting the silky soft strands fall through his fingers. "I can be better," he whispered. Not to you, but to himself. "I'll be better. I promise."
#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#Spotify
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My Fallen Apple
Lucifer X Reader
Chapter 9
“Oh… I- I forgot to tell them you're- wah!” He was suddenly yanked away by Mammon!
“She's a fucking angel!” He screamed. Tex hid Bee behind him and even Ozzie was trying to keep Fizz from you. Satan growled and came forward.
“Were you sent by heaven to fuck with him further?! Wasn't banishing him punishment enough, now you fuckers have to break his heart too?!”
You're shaking like a leaf, crawling away from the demon you consider a friend literally minutes ago. “I'll fucking kill all of-” this time he's the one cut off, as Lucifer sucker punches him in the jaw. You can see mammon behind him holding his gut in pain. Next thing you know, you're in Lucifer's arms and his wings are wrapped around you. His horns are out, as is his tail and his eyes are reversed in color.
“Not today Satan. Or ever. Calm the fuck down .” He roared the last word, and you felt the power of it in your whole body. This was the king of hell heaven told you to fear.
Bee spoke next, “But Luci, She's…”
“An angel? Yeah, I've known that since day one when she fell. She's like me okay?! Adam himself pushed her out, and she lives here in hell now. With me. I just… I didn't tell any of you because I knew you'd judge her and freak out before you got the chance to know her like I do.” They all still look at you nervously, and it's heartbreaking. These are your friends, and they're afraid of you. You're about to cry, when Fizzarolli makes his way out of Ozzie's arms and runs to your side. Lucifer eyes him and Fizz holds up his hands, approaching slowly, before smiling at you and pulling out a handkerchief, and another, and another, and- yes it's a string of infinite handkerchiefs coming from the pocket of his swim trunks. It makes you chuckle a bit from the absurdity of it, and he smiles.
“Hey hey, there's that laugh. So you're not my favorite sinner anymore. You're just my favorite angel now!” He smiled fondly at you, making sure you know, that you really know he's not afraid of you. Your tears fall anyway and he's quick to dry them with one of the handkerchiefs. Lucifer smiled, glad to see at least one of your friends has some sense in them. Slowly, the others start to come around, realizing they fucked up.
Bee and Ozzie are both the first to hug you and Lucifer both and start apologizing over each other. Satan and Mammon are next to offer nervous embarrassed apologies, and Levi just quietly says his sorry without much fanfare.
You accept all the apologies and finally everyone relaxes and the energy is back to what it was before. But there's a slight tiredness to it all now. Everyone is ready to go home back to their ring and process everything that's happened.
“Hey, how about we make these meetings a yearly thing, rather than every 100 years?” Lucifer suggests, and everyone seems to immediately perk up at the idea.
________
You're back in the castle now, back in warm comfy clothes, just hanging out in Lucifer's workshop on the couch he'd put in there recently for you two to just chill sometimes. There's a slightly awkward tension in the space between you… He places a hand in that space, waiting to see if you'd reach out to him. And you do. You take his hand, and you put it around your shoulders as you snuggle into his side like you used to “as friends” just yesterday.
You feel the relief wash over him as he pulls you in close and kisses the top of your head.
“So, that was fun.”
“Yeah, it was. I like the idea of making that a yearly trip too.”
“Yeah… I um… So Charlie is really okay with this? You talked with her already from the sound of the others?” He sounds so nervous, but his hand is rubbing your arm, and playing with the hem of your short shirt sleeve. It's soothing.
“Yeah, she and I spoke about it a while ago. She just wanted me to promise I'd never hurt you. And I won't. I'm making the same promise to you, I'll never hurt you. Not on purpose.” You amend the last part in because, well, everyone makes mistakes. You know you're not perfect, but who in hell is?! Or heaven for that matter!?
“I meant it when I said I love you too.” He said suddenly, breaking you from your thoughts. “I know I'm not the easiest person to love… I have a lot of issues. Depression, social anxiety, adhd, just to name a few.” He sighed, “It won't be easy to be my girlfriend. That's probably why Lilith got sick of me. My issues just got worse over time.”
You kiss his cheek, “Those aren't deal-breakers for me Luci, you've got so many amazing traits too. You're creative, a loving father, you're witty and charming, you put 120% into the things you care about! Your passion and care is beautiful, and speaking of beautiful, I haven't even touched on how handsome you are. And you're so affectionate and gentle and-” You're cut off by a kiss.
It's warm and passionate and he pushes you back on the couch, his hands on your waist.
After a moment he pulls away, his voice low and warm, “Sorry, but if you keep praising me like that, I'm gonna have to show you why I'm the Lord of the Pride ring.” He then slides his thumb over your lower lip, “Heh, look at that, a kiss and a few words and you're redder than my wings. It's a nice color on you. Hey, how about we make out in the duck pile?”
………
And with that you can't help but groan, “That… is the least sexy place we could make out.”
He throws his head back and laughs! “Yeah, but it'd be fun! Come on, trust me, I'll even let you sit on my lap.” He got up and offered you a hand, “Come on~ my little apple, I won't bite.” He flashed a grin of his sharp teeth. “Unless you ask very nicely. ”
#hazbin hotel#fallen apple#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#lucifer x reader#fizzarozzie#fizzarolli#helluva boss asmodeus#helluva boss ozzie#helluva boss#helluva boss mammon#helluva boss beelzebub
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Chapter 56 - Second Spoiler Analysis
Okay everyone, my gears have been TURNING and GRINDING. So, I am going to analyze the shit out of this second spoiler because why not throw caution to the wind and come up with the most bizarre predictions 2 days before the new release?! Beware!! lol XD
My thoughts are under the cut!!
Body Language!
As far as I know, we haven't seen D hold Y in this position before, it's protective and provocative at the same time. Idk, looks like D's staking his claim to me...And trying to provoke something from Y. Confession? Truth? Desire?
D still has all of his clothing on, he hasn't even taken off his gloves, what this says to me is that Y probably said some snarky shit and D couldn't take it anymore? But Hoooowwww did they get from the couch to here?! I'm assuming Yashiro tried to walk away from and dismiss Doumeki AGAIN, but he said 'NOOPEE, not this timeeee."
Yashiro is obviously nervous/stunned/literally backed into a corner. So, I assume we are at the point where D gives Y another ultimatum? ORR he's provoking him with his words? "Why did you want me instead of Kamiya?" "I know you only respond to my touch" "You know you want this" "Why do you hold yourself back with me" "I know" "Yashiro-San, do you actually have feelings for me?" LOL I'm spit balling here!
Y isn't looking D in his eyes (he's looking down), almost like he can't face the TRUTH of his emotions. Maybe that's what D is trying to probe out of him here.
Not a prediction buuut...Look at D's hand on Y's ass! :0 Anyone else getting hot/nervous?
I really think D is asking Y a question here, his mouth is open slightly and Yashiro is sweating and looking down as if he's trying to find the "right" (shit to say that won't give his feelings away) thing to say.
Yashiro's right hand is slightly raised, will he touch D? Put his hand on his chest? Caress his scar?? I'm going to explode, it's not safe for me to run away with my thoughts like this LMAO.
What Could D Be Saying?!
I honestly think he is either bringing up past situations he realized that were acts of care/desire from Y or telling Y that he knows about his impotency/true feelings.
"What you said about me to Tsukanawa was a lie, you threw me away because you couldn't handle falling in love." AHHH IDK IDK!
"Tell me you want this - tell me you want me, and I'm yours." HAHAHHAGSUGAHSGSHA
"Are you still afraid of me - to be with me?"
Who knows at this point?
Final Thoughts
First, Disclaimer: I could be wrong about literally everything here, but what can I say? I like to get my own hopes up! These are just my humble opinions and hopes that I share about my favorite love story <3
I think the confession is upon us. Unless Kamiya interrupts again, if that happens, I will break the fourth wall myself and tie him up in my basement. Or if Nana calls...but it's the middle of the night so I doubt either things will occur. Anyway, I think this is the chapter we will see Y take what he wants, and his walls totally crumble. Who knows, he may even cry again but this time he will allow Doumeki to comfort him. Will Yashiro make love to the Doumeki from all those years ago? Will Doumkei finally take off his pants?! Will Yashiro touch Doumeki? Whatever happens, I'm just happy to be here, lol.
It's so fun predicting Yoneda-Sensei's next move, I'm terribly thrilled for whatever is in store!!
#saezuru spoilers#saezuru tori wa habatakanai#saezuru#twittering birds never fly#yashiro#doumeki x yashiro#manga#yaoi bl#doumeki chikara#yaoi#yaoi manga#saezuru fandom#saezuru feels
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