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dogbites-puppylove · 12 days

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Apple seed cyanide

TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)

Tags: Yandere! Joker x reader, Yandere! Harley x reader (platonic)

If you want the honest to god truth, Harley knew that the Joker was spewing saccharine filth from the start when he reached out with promises of a sweet little life, one with a darling family of their own. She knew because, after years of watching him pant after the trials of Batman, she saw he had no room other than his obsession left in his heart. But like a moth to firelight, she flutters dutifully back into his arms attracted by promises already broken

Imagine her surprise when shes greeted at the door with a bright smile, almost sane enough to trick her. He ushers her in with a sweet note in the air and a “surprise waiting for her” in the living room. Bound and gagged a couple is crying out on the floor, shaking their hands in a pathetic plea, and attempting to crawl away, and usually, Harley would be all for making a joke or two, but instead, all she can see is you. Your little presence floods all of her senses, sitting perfectly pacified on the floor. Behind her, she's aware of her partner's sick laughter, but she can't shake off the trance she's in.

You couldn't be older than 3, still without proper motor skills and a morbid curiosity stopping any critical preservation instincts that might have had you crying. This becomes more evident when instead of screaming, you giggle as the clown prince of crime crouches down to haul you up into an embrace, even bouncing you up into the air a few times to pry out more laughter. She can barely hear the shrieks of your old parents as the Joker finally deposits you safely into her arms, and as she cradles you close to her chest that aches for you. It's a physical hurt that almost overwhelmed her, the need to crawl inside you and live there, or for you to do the same, and it is in a stranger's house that Harley falls in love again.

“Sweet as honey ain't they?” the Joker coos and cackles at you, waggling a few fingers in front of your face, grinning even wider as you grab at them. “Full of curiosity that one is, a real riot!” but Harley can barely hear him much less acknowledge him past the roaring of blood in her ears. Her heart beating out of her chest she thinks it might just spill open to accommodate the organ trying to crawl closer to her darling. For the second and last time in her life, Harley is chained and leashed to another's will, a fate of coming to their beck and call, your will, her darling wrapped perfectly in her arms.

To the Joker's credit he does love you, or as close to love as he can get. He hushes your cries, indulges you in sweets behind Harley's back, and she's even caught him humming silly little tunes as he dances with you wrapped up in his arms. You bring clarity to him, a surety in his life that he doesn't feel unless pulling Bats along in another joke. You were going to be his perfect legacy, proof that he cannot truly die, you're a part of him in this way. Of course, you’d need a quick little dip into a vat of toxins to truly make a perfect legacy but you needn’t worry, he still loves you. You just need a little preparation first.

Every week he takes you on little daddy-darling outings, he tells Harley your going around to sightsee, and he lets you play a lot of fun games until the sun sets. And he's truthful because his warehouses are far and in between, and every mutilation he leads you so lovingly through is a fun little joke. His little comedian, hell coo as he leads your hand tightly clasping a knife against the throat of one of his own boys who had tried to run. Isn't this fun sweetheart?

He underestimates, however, just how devoted Harley is because while she was fully delusional when they had first gotten into a relationship Harley cannot spare you as collateral damage to her own fantasies. She is painfully grounded as she takes in everything about you 24/7, your expressions, words, actions anything she can she takes to covet away in her mind forever. As much as she is a monster she is your mother and she loves you, you are anything she's ever had and everything she'll ever have. He doesn't realize that she obsessively checks over you, even spotting the smallest flecks of blood, how when she kisses you goodnight she can see the thin sheen of apathy take hold of your gaze.

The final straw comes in the form of a huge argument, she comes home early from work eager to see her little baby, when she finds the Joker cooing into your ear, goading you into doing your best as your hands wrap around a familiar gun. Like the devil on her shoulder, she can't even scream as you pull the trigger, eyes momentarily twitching but no other expression as your former parent's brains paint the windows. And she realizes as you turn around to smile at her sweetly with blood on your teeth and tears that seem so foreign streaming down your face that you need to leave, she has to get you away.

That night she takes you, just 9 years old, and runs. She has no real destination, just a desperate notion to get away, to save you from all that she knows the joker is trying to make you. She can't, she can't let you go through what she knows will force you into the type of person you never wanted to become. Because she can see herself in the mirror and can mourn normal happiness and stability, and she has watched the joker bleed himself dry until he has nothing to himself but an old laugh track repeating over and over again. It's a life of agony and you don't deserve that, not you, never you.

Of course, her body ends up leading her to Ivy’s place, and the woman can only stare in shock as her best friend who had gone radio silent all those years back collapses at her door holding a kid so close she might be trying to meld into one. “Please, please not my baby” Harley begs and any anger that Ivy could have had melts.

For a while it's paradise, the Gotham sirens all corralling once again in their glory, and with their very own new member, you. Selina takes to you quickly, cooing about how her kitten is just the most clever thing in the world as you quickly work through her little trips. (Privately she will worry to Harley about the lack of awareness you have for your own health, the way your eyes glaze over when a plan takes place, and the brutality you exhibit.) Ivy also takes to you quickly, teasing you with little nicknames (how can you be a sapling when you're a human?) and she teaches you how to nurture, how to care for plants and love them as they deserve. (And she will confide to Harley how you seem to take to poisons particularly well, how you are able to craft things more disastrous than she can dream, how your curiosity always leans to the morbid.)

Harley herself takes great energy and care into trying to undo what the Joker has done, it's laughable how Gotham's greatest villains all sit in a circle every week and preach about morals and empathy. But to their credit, it works, and though you may not be able to feel the full existence of motion, though you can't seem to feel it as deeply as others your heart still throbs with what must make you human. You learn consequences and cling with desperation to these little lessons that prove you aren't your mentor. (not father, not anymore)

And yet Harley can still see how your apathy takes hold in the face of curiosity, how you prefer crowbars over teddy bears, and how despite your hardest efforts empathy is always a little too easy to push away in favor of hard-earned apathy. (and she knows, she knows that as long as that bastard is still out there doggedly searching the ground for you, you won't ever truly be safe) so she makes a deal.

The phone rings and Bruce can only raise an eyebrow at the untitled phone number, he doesn't make a habit of giving out his number so uselessly so after the third ring he picks up.

“Hello? This is Bruce Way-”

“Hey Bats.” Alarm shoots through the roof at a voice he hasn't heard in years, and yet still so closely relates to his arch-nemesis.

“Harley? How did you get this-”

“Listen, listen I know it's gonna sound real bad but I- I need you to hear me out. A favor, I need a favor. I'll go back to Arkham, stay there for the rest of my days but, I” she breathes and it's far too shaky for the woman he knows her to be. “My baby” she sobs “You gotta keep my baby safe, he's out there Bats and he won't leave em alone as long as their alive.”

Through his confusion, Bruce manages to calm her down, and wrangles a short story out of her, how she and Joker had played family until she couldn't bear to see you break anymore and how she knew that she alone couldn't keep her darling safe. And maybe it's the boy staring at the corpse of his family in Crime Alley that speaks instead of himself but he finds himself reaching out to help. (he can't let another family split, not when he can help it). As long as Harley doesn't kill, no more lethal tactics, and as long as she reports everything she knows about joker, and works with him against him, she can stay outside of Arkham walls. And as for you?

Your tenth birthday hits and Bruce Wayne steps into your living room with a strangely calculating gaze and a warm smile.

“You must be Y/N? Ah, nice to meet you officially, my name is Bruce Wayne, and ill be your foster family.”

Author's Note: Another reupload. ALSO! I HAVE GOTTEN THE ANON ASKS!! I AM JUST A SLOW WRITER I’LL GET TO EM I PROMISE!!

#yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #harley quinn x reader #joker x reader

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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

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reader comforting eddie after he has a nightmare abt reader being taken by vecna!!

omgggg yessss

ok i'm kind of in love with this fic fjskfjsklfjksl

💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗

You were screaming. You were screaming and there was nothing Eddie could do about it.

"No, please, please, I'm sorry," you sobbed, eyelids fluttering rapidly. "I didn't mean to."

"(Y/N)!" Eddie screamed. He ran over to you, more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. "(Y/N), wake up, please, baby, you gotta wake up."

You gave him no response. Tears streamed down your cheeks, and you continued begging the unseen monster to let you go, telling it you were sorry, that you didn't mean to do whatever you did.

Then, suddenly, your body started to rise.

"No," Eddie rasped. "No, no, not again..." He ran over to you, desperately trying to pull you to the ground, but it was no use. "No, (Y/N), no!" he screamed.

You let out a blood-curdling shriek and your head and limbs jerked back. Your bones broke, one by one, and your eyes looked like they'd been pulled inside your head.

Eddie screamed your name and ran over to you, sobbing and clawing at the ceiling to try to get you down. It didn't matter. You were already dead.

Your body dropped to the floor.

"No, no, (Y/N)," Eddie sobbed, crawling over to you and taking your broken body in his hands. "No, not you, anyone but you."

"Eddie..."

He could hear the monster's voice. It was coming for him now, he knew it. He needed to get out of there, needed to leave before it took him too but he couldn't. He couldn't leave you.

"Eddie!"

The monster was growing impatient. Eddie began to panic, to scramble to leave, but it was too late.

It had already gotten him.

"Eddie!"

Eddie jolted awake with a start, breathing heavily. He looked around with wide eyes, expecting to see your mutilated body and a corpse-like monster in front of him.

"Eddie!"

His eyes snapped to you, bloodshot and brimming with tears. You were alive, you were whole. It was just a dream. Eddie sobbed and collapsed against you.

"Hey..." you murmured, stroking his hair. "Hey, you're okay. You're okay, baby, you're okay..." You kissed his head, pressing your cheek against his messy, sweaty hair. "Do you wanna tell me what happened?" you asked softly, rubbing his shoulders.

"It got you," he said hoarsely, tears still streaming down his face. "The thing that killed Chrissy, it got you."

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," you cooed, thumbing the salty water off of his cheeks. "It was just a dream, baby, I'm fine."

Eddie sobbed again, burying his face in your neck. "I need you to be okay," he whispered.

"I am," you assured him softly. "I am, honey, I am. I'm right here next to you, in this gross-ass shed, completely alive and well."

Eddie let out a watery laugh, gripping you tighter. "Don't let it get you," he begged. "Please don't let it get you."

"I won't," you whispered. "I promise I won't."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson

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atomic-chronoscaph · 3 months

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Shriek of the Mutilated (1974)

#shriek of the mutilated gif #70s horror #b-movies #yeti #70s grindhouse #70s movies #michael findlay #jennifer stock #alan brock #tawm ellis #seventies #1974 #gif #chronoscaph gif

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sheeple · 3 months

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Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer.

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius.

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you.

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern.

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape."

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time.

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple.

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now.

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside.

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help.

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again.

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots.

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand.

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326

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koshkamartell · 1 month

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No One But Me

masterlist

You woke up sweating and tangled in your bed sheets after another fitful sleep full of bad dreams that seemed so realistic. You had always suffered from the occasional nightmare, as every survivor did, but lately you had been plagued by them more often.

They were vivid dreams that always revolved around the deaths of your loved ones. Hordes of the infected, grostesque beings with faces mutilated by cordyceps, would chase you relentlessly through thick forests or abandoned towns. Sometimes Ellie was with you, sometimes your parents. The dreams always ended similarly, with one of you being caught and barbarically devoured.

Each dream was traumatic and so lifelike. But you found the worst ones to be the dreams involving Ellie. They seemed to be happening more and more lately. In the dreams you would both be running from the infected, your laboured breathing and the crunch of earth under your shoes loud in your ears. You were running so fast that it seemed like you were escaping from the mob after you and freedom was just on the horizon, so close and so tangible.

Then disaster would strike. Ellie would trip over and land heavily onto her chest, the fall knocking the wind out of her small body. You would scream at her to get up and try desperately to haul her back up on her feet. But she was so heavy, like a lead weight, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't lift her. She lay motionless with her big eyes staring up at you full of tears. You would be screaming and crying hysterically as the infected approached, their shrieks and screeches deafening in your ears.

You would look up to see the horrible creatures rushing toward you then you'd look back to Ellie. Except it wasn't Ellie staring back at you now. Her face had changed. Staring back at you now was you as a child, 12 years old and frightened out of your wits. Time stood still as you and your child self gazed at each other in anguished horror. You were paralysed. The screams would get louder as the horde closed in on you. You squeezed your eyes shut when they reached you and lunged at you. Then you were enveloped in black.

And that's when your conscience returns to the reality of living and you wake up in the safety of Joel's arms or alone in your bed, disorientated and close to hyperventilating. Having Joel's warm body enclosed around yours as he whispered soothingly during these moments of profound distress was a blessing. It was something that you missed on the nights he didn't stay with you and you startled awake. Truthfully, it was just about the only time you missed Joel these days.

It had been a week since you negotiated your return to your cottage. You reveled in the comfort of your home and the security of all its quirks and nooks; the squeak of the kitchen cupboard where the mugs were kept, the small watercolour painting that hung in your hallway, the missing tile in your shower alcove, the smell of your herbal teas on your kitchen windowsill.

Joel still visited most nights and slept in your bed, entangling you in his strong arms and long legs. He invaded all your senses at once; his sandalwood and pine scent filling your nostrils, his thick fingers sliding into your pussy, his plush lips pressing against your neck, his intense dark brown eyes gazing at your face full of desire. You still surrendered yourself to Joel but there was a niggling part deep inside your heart that wouldn't settle, that caused your body to instinctively flinch when he touched you or when he spoke.

Joel had been trying very hard to prove himself to you. He had been loving and gentle, affectionate and attentive. The sex was still amazing. He hadn't gotten angry or annoyed with you. Infact, Joel had changed so dramatically that you couldn't help a modicum of hateful resentment spiking deep inside you. Why had it taken him so long to change? After all the damage he had inflicted, why did he now try to be better?

Joel had even uttered those three simple words that you had waited so long to hear. When you heard him say "I love you" for the first time you were left speechless. His voice echoed through your head for days to come. But that shock then morphed into indignation the longer you thought about what Joel had done. And then that softly spoken declaration of love dissipated completely, outweighed and replaced by the other things he had said.

Disrespectful little bitch.

Whore.

Slut.

The passion in his insults still stung. The phantom grip of his hands all over your body still haunted you. You were suffocated by his presence and had to retreat to your own safe space, not just physically but emotionally. And emotionally that safe space was Oscar.

Your weekly lunch date quickly became the highlight of your week. He never failed to show up, always with a meal and some fruit tucked in his satchel. That one hour of spent with Oscar was a blissful reprieve from the depressive spiral you had gradually been descending into. Just the sight of his smile was enough to pierce through the darkness smothering your existence, like a speck of guiding gold light offering hope.

Joel had snuffed the flame of your spirit, leaving you abandoned in darkness. But Oscar was the one whose hand had found yours, knitting his fingers through your own and offering you refuge in his light. It was he who gave you hope, a reason to strive against the oppression of Joel's dark side and the survivor's guilt and depression, a reason to want to be happy.

You still loved Joel. You are sure a part of you will always love him. But he cannot fix what he has broken inside you, no matter how dedicated he is in trying to repair the ruins between you. The more time passes, the clearer it becomes that you can no longer love him as you once did.

Oscar stands infront of the small mirror in his bathroom and runs a comb through his thick black hair. He hasn't shaved for the last three days and the stubble growing on his face is already prickly. He wonders if he should let it grow, if he looks better with a beard. He recalls the way you looked at him at the Tipsy Bison that night, the first time seeing him without the extra hair. Your eyes were twinkling with a mixture of something like intrigue and surprise, and what he believes - hopes - was a spark of attraction.

No, he decides. He will shave tomorrow.

Oscar splashes cold water on his face and brushes the sleep from his eyes. He doesn't take long to get ready for work, preferring to instead save enough time to eat a plate of scrambled eggs and have a cup of tea at a leisurely pace. He had spent far too many years on the brink of starvation to neglect his body's need for regular meals, and therefore he treats food with reverence. Once he's finished his breakfast Oscar washes his dishes and leaves the house for the stables.

On the walk there Oscar absorbs the sights and sounds around him. The snow on the trees lining the street look like powdered sugar, reminding Oscar of the donuts displayed in the window of the Jackson bakery. The sweet melody of chirping birds carries along the chilly breeze sweeping through the town, and the sounds feel like a warm morning greeting to Oscar. He stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and continues on his way, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead of him.

Joel is already at the stables when Oscar arrives. They greet each other and saddle their horses together, then go to the patrol post at the community gates to sign the log book and collect their rifles. Joel mounts his usual steed, a brown stallion named Tex, while Oscar hoists himself up onto his favourite mare, Misty. They trot through the massive gates of Jackson and set off on the well established route they have been assigned to.

Joel knows this route like the back of his hand. He doesn't need a map to navigate where they are going; he already knows what directions to take, every landmark that acts as a measurement of distance and time. The men settle into a companionable silence while they ride, and it isn't until an hour has passed that one of them says more than a handful of words.

"Tommy said Troy needed a week off," Oscar speaks up. "Is it his knee again?"

"It plays up in the cold," Joel grunts. "Gives him hell."

Like Joel, Troy had survived through many battles and escapades with both men and mutants, and he had the scars to prove it. Troy was younger and stronger than Joel, his body solidly built with more muscle and fat, but he was often plagued with aches and arthritis from old injuries. Joel empathised with Troy; his own back gave him much grief, the pain stemming all the way back to his contracting days.

"Check point is just up ahead," Joel announces. "We'll stop and survey the area, but I gotta piss first."

"Alright."

Less than half a mile away was a clearing that served as the first stopping point in the route. Joel and Oscar steer the horses to the glade and dismount them. Oscar stands and stretches his arms up over his head, sighing contentedly, then looks out over the small valley below them. The land is blanketed with snow and dotted with patches of green shrubs and trees. The vast Wyoming land is encompassed by the formidable grey mountains that sit in the distance. Oscar soaks up the sight before him, speechless by the panorama for a few moments.

"This view is surreal," Oscar remarks reverently. "Beautiful, like a dream."

Joel cracks his neck and pulls off the sling of his rifle from over his shoulder. "Speakin' of dreams, you been havin' any more bad ones lately?"

"Not many, actually. Work's been so busy that I just about pass out when I get home. And...well...I guess I've just been a bit happier lately," Oscar replies with a light-hearted smile.

Joel huffs a laugh and takes hold of his rifle. "Yeah? Finally got yourself a woman, huh?" He bends down to set the gun to stand against a large rock.

"I don't wanna say too much but...yeah, there's kinda someone," Oscar says, bashful as he rubs the back of his neck.

Joel tethers Tex's reins to a branch of one of the nearby trees before pacing a few feet away to urinate. When he finishes and ambles back to Oscar and the horses Joel resumes the conversation.

"What's she like?" Joel asks as he reaches down and picks his rifle up once again. Oscar strokes Misty's muzzle, his back facing Joel.

"Well, she's a real sweetheart. Smart, loves to read. Really cares about others, you know what I mean? Like kids and old people."

Joel's breath catches in his throat and his hand immediately tightens around the handguard of his rifle. Is Oscar talking about you?

Have you been cheating on him?

No, you can't be. You love him, not Oscar.

You'd never do that. Oscar must be talking about some other woman.

Joel knows he needs to appear indifferent if he wants to find out more information; getting angry when he doesn't have any details would do more damage than good. Joel slings his rifle over his shoulder, then reaches into his pocket and fishes out his flask. He carries out these actions slowly as he thinks of how to respond.

How the hell is he supposed to ask Estrada if he's fucking his woman? And goddamnit, it's not like he would have known you belong to Joel.

Unless you told him. Did you?

In this moment Joel wants nothing more than to show Estrada and every single person in Jackson that you are his - perhaps in some grand sweeping display of dominance. But for now he has to focus on what he can do, which is interrogating the younger man without scaring him.

Joel takes a deep breath to help compose himself enough to carry on the conversation. "Yeah? How long has somethin' been goin' on between you two?"

Oscar flips open his satchel and rummages around inside it for some of the jerky he always has stashed in one of the pockets. "We have been friends for a while now, but it isn't been anything more than just hanging out, you know?"

Hanging out.

Have you been seeing him since he left working at the library?

Where? Why?

Joel watches Oscar's every movement, every expression, searching for the sincerity in his words, any telltale sign of dishonesty. But Joel already knows that Oscar isn't the kind of man who lies or showboats.

"You ain't told her you got feelings?" Joel asks impassively.

"Not outrightly so. Not yet." Oscar responds with a sigh that clearly conveys his chagrin. "Guess I've been too chicken shit to do it."

Joel pops open the lid of the flask and takes a swig of scotch. The burn of it helps calms his nerves. "She feels the same, you reckon?"

Oscar locates the small bundle of jerky and pulls it from the satchel. "Well, I think so. She said I'm the only guy she is comfortable with. And she gives me these looks, like she wants more."

Joel pictures you standing infront of Oscar and flirting with him, shyly batting the lashes of your pretty eyes. Those same eyes that used to gaze at him with so much passion when he fucked you senseless. Joel's belly clenches with white hot envy at the thought of Oscar being the subject of your adoration instead of himself.

He shuts the flask and shoves it back into his jacket pocket.

"But she's not the kind to make the first move." Oscar explains earnestly. "She's quiet, shy. Would rather get lost in a book than be the life of the party."

It is you.

Estrada is talking about you. That he has feelings for you and you probably reciprocate them, and that he's the only man you feel comfortable with.

Joel whips around to avoid Oscar's gaze. Flames of jealous fury lick up the nape of his neck and burn into the back of his eyes. His nostrils flare as his breathing speeds up, his heart pounding in his ears.

Are you fucking Estrada?

Are you going to leave him and end up with this weak piece of shit and let him be the one to fuck you and own you?

Both of Joel's fists are balled so tightly into themselves that the skin of his knuckles have turned white. It takes all of Joel's might and willpower to suppress the poisonous wrath coursing through his body. The primal, more reactionary part of Joel's brain says to shoot Oscar in the face instantly, and if Joel were in his younger raider years he would have splattered the man's brains out onto the dazzling white snow without a second thought.

He could easily dispose of Oscar's body somewhere in the vast expanse of forest land surrounding them, no trace of him left behind to ever to be found. Joel imagines being surrounded by a large group of townsfolk on his return and delivering the tragic news that his patrol partner died while out on a routine patrol route. Maybe Joel would say Oscar was viciously mauled by a clicker out of no where, or maybe raiders ambushed them and fatally shot him. No one would question the validity of Joel's version of Oscar's demise; why would he lie? And after all, Joel was one of the very best patrolmen in Jackson and he surely would've done everything he could to save Oscar.

But by some miracle Joel is narrowly able to restrain the impulse to murder Oscar. He reminds himself over and over that he must control his fury. Control, control, control. He consciously regulates his breathing, inhaling through his nose and then exhaling through his mouth. The anger seems to slowly dissolve and leech into Joel's blood stream, icy and venomous as it flows through his veins, no longer imminent in its threat but nonetheless still alive.

Joel immediately realises he has to do something about this friendship between you and Oscar. There is no way in hell that he will allow this to go on, and behind his back, no less. Before all this bullshit happened on Jackson's birthday, Joel would've stalked straight into that library to teach you a lesson; he would have marked you all over with his mouth and teeth and then he would have fucked all your holes.

But things are different now, and Joel has to find other ways to deal with the situation that's been presented to him. He needs to come up with a plan that will tear you and Oscar apart without implicating himself in the destruction.

When Joel remains quiet and does not show any response, Oscar shakes his head and let's out a sheepish groan. "Shit, sorry for boring you with this stuff, man. I don't tend to talk about this kinda thing with anyone, I guess it's all come rushing out."

"Hope it all works out for ya, man," Joel says gruffly with his back still facing Oscar. "Now let's get back on route."

"Thanks, man." Oscar calls out.

Joel's jaw ticks. He has found benefit in Tommy's advice of controlling his temper; the discipline allows Joel the ability to strategically plan, to contemplate different courses of action in order to gain an advantage in a situation. And if executed effectively, Joel knows the repercussions of those plans could destroy you and Oscar.

The next morning Joel arrived at the patrol post for his shift earlier than usual. He flipped through the pages of the large hardcover log book where each ranger recorded their name, the day, and the starting time and ending time of their shift.

The first lined column of the page detailed the week of the day and in the next was where the times were written. The following columns showed the rangers names and their signatures, as well as a space for comments and notes about that particular shift.

Joel scanned along the name column in search of Oscar's name. He discovered that on average Oscar was working patrol three days a week, always on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. He also worked at the stables on Monday, Wednesday and Sunday, sometimes on the Saturday as well. Joel's tongue licked along the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what this meant.

If you and Oscar were spending time together, it would have to be during the day - night time would be impossible for you because you were with Joel or Ellie so often. Oscar wouldn't be able to see you during the day when he was on patrol, so that cancelled out Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. And you wouldn't be able to meet Oscar on the days you were at school without children and teachers gossiping. No, you needed more privacy than what the school environment was able to offer.

That left your library shifts. It made sense. It was the perfect place for more clandestine meetings and it was where you two had met. Joel's jaw clenched at the thought of you and Oscar alone together.

Joel deduced that the only day you worked there in which Oscar could possibly visit you was Wednesdays.

Wednesday. Five days time.

Just enough time for Joel to make sure you stayed his.

That Saturday night Ellie came to Joel's for family dinner and movie night. Despite the limited range of movies available in Jackson, Ellie located a tape that neither of you had seen before. It was always exciting to watch a VHS movie on Joel's large analog television. It was an activity Joel and Ellie used to enjoy together, however it had become a rare occurrence in the last year or so that Ellie had become more independent and sociable. So although Joel grumbled about staying up late to watch a ridiculous movie, you knew he secretly loved the opportunity to spend time with Ellie in the comfort of the living room, snuggled by blankets and pillows and a big bowl of popcorn.

At dinner time the three of you sat at the dining table to eat the soup and freshly baked bread you had made that evening. As usual, Ellie was the centre of attention and was entertaining the two of you with stories of her work escapades and what her and her friends had gotten up to that week.

"Hey, you know that Oscar guy?" Ellie asks eagerly. "Works at the stables and does patrol?"

Your heart skips a beat to hear Oscar's name spoken and your head automatically turns to look at Ellie across the dining table. She grins and raises her eyebrows like she is dying to share some kind of secret with you both.

"Partnered on patrol with him this week," Joel replies casually before taking a fork full of potato into his mouth.

The throwaway comment surprises you and you momentarily freeze, your spoon stilling in the middle of scooping a spoonful of soup. The thought of Oscar and Joel working alongside one another makes you uneasy, like their proximity is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You haven't cheated on Joel but he doesn't know how close you and Oscar are or how profound your friendship is, and if Oscar were to somehow mention you then you're sure Joel would not be pleased.

"Well, Uncle Tommy said he'd show me how to throw an axe, just like the competition we saw!" Ellie exlaims enthusiatically, looking from you to Joel. "So he took me today and Oscar and that Matt guy tagged along and we had our own competition to see who was the best."

You secretly glance at Joel to gauge his reaction but he appears apathetic as he eats, shoulders hulking as he leans over his bowl, eyes trained on the soup before him.

"Uncle Tommy was bragging that he would kick their asses but then Oscar beat him like, three times in a row!" Ellie snickered, shaking her head at the fond memory. "It was fucking hilarious."

You picture Oscar gripping the heavy wooden handle of an axe, its blade sharp and glinting dangerously in the sunlight. You imagine the determined expression on his face as he eyes the target ahead, how his stance shifts into the best position for him to pull back and launch the weapon. You imagine his shirt sleeves rolled up to his biceps, revealing the olive skin of his forearms.

Oh, how you wished you could have been there.

Joel remains quiet and does not acknowledge Ellie's anecdote, so you muster a little smile and nod at her to show you've been listening. "That sounds like fun," you supply.

"Yeah it was. You guys should come watch next time." Ellie slurps some soup before turning her attention to Joel. "So do you and Oscar like, chill when you're not on patrol?"

"Nah," Joel grunts, not meeting Ellie's eyes. "I'm too busy workin'." He pauses for a few beats before adding, "and he's busy with some mystery woman alotta the time, forgot what he said her name was."

Your spoon drops from your hand and clatters down into your bowl with a sudden clang. No one notices and Ellie continues talking, but Joel's words ring in your ears.

Oscar has a woman...and they spend alot of time together.

Why had he never told you? Is that why he was so busy for all those weeks, is that why he didn't visit you in the library when he stopped working with you?

Tears prick at your eyes and threaten to spill over your lash line. You hurriedly blink them away and discreetly wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

You stupid, stupid girl.

You have no right to feel like that, your mind hisses. How can you feel betrayed when you've done exactly the same thing, seeing Joel without telling Oscar anything? Oscar has every right to be happy with someone else and it's none of your business.

And you know this well. You want Oscar to be happy in any way he can be. He deserves it. And if that happiness is found with another woman, one you know nothing about, then so be it. You should wish him good luck and be glad that he's got someone to share his life with.

But why did it have to work out like this? Why hadn't I met Oscar before Joel?

You nibble on the inside of your lip and try to quell the deluge of emotions and thoughts flooding your mind. You raise your head to look at Joel and find he's already staring at you. He looks handsome in the soft light of the dining room with his fluffy greying curls and his rich chocolate brown eyes sparkling at you. You offer him a tiny smile, disguising the hurt swirling around your heart. Joel's lips curl into a little smirk in return and he winks at you, then turns his attention back to Ellie's rambling.

You glance over to Ellie and watch her speak animatedly to Joel, marvelling at how her eyes glint with mischievous charm, how the corners of her mouth curve into her endearing smile, similar to her adoptive father. Oh, how your heart aches for Ellie. You need to focus on the family you've created with Joel and Ellie, this precious piece of life that you have been given. It's what you've always wanted, after all. And now you have it, you cannot throw it away.

The following Tuesday morning Joel paid a visit to Tommy at his home. Maria had already left the house for the day to get an early start on the tasks assigned to her by the committee, which suited Joel fine. He never felt completely comfortable being around Maria. He always felt like she was judging his every word and action. Joel sensed it in the way she watched him like a hawk whenever he played with her and Tommy's two children, or how she seemed to incessantly quiz he and Ellie during every family dinner they attended.

Nosey bitch, Joel thought.

But this morning Joel was thankful to be able to relax without Maria lurking by. The brothers chatted in the kitchen as Tommy stood at the stove frying a pan full of eggs and strips of bacon. Joel leaned against the kitchen counter next to him and sipped on the slightly bitter black coffee Tommy had made.

"I tell ya, won't be long til Ellie gets the hang of that axe," Tommy chuckled. "Better watch out, big brother."

"Anyone gets hurt and you're responsible," Joel grumbled good naturedly. He slurped a mouthful of coffee and scratched the scruff along the side of his jaw.

"Deal," Tommy smirked and poked the sizzling bacon with the spatula in his hand. "So, how's everythin' goin' with your lady? She forgiven you yet?"

Joel rolled his eyes and shifted his weight on his feet, obviously uncomfortable with Tommy's candour. "Better. But I gotta favour to ask you."

Tommy glanced at Joel and raised his eyebrows. "What can I do for ya?"

"Need to swap my Wednesday shift," Joel said before taking another sip, purposely avoiding Tommy's gaze.

Tommy sighed and flipped one of the eggs in the pan. "Already had Troy off last week. It's been hard gettin' shifts filled lately, you know how sickness goes around."

"Yeah I know, but Tommy, I need tomorrow free," Joel explained firmly. "I'll owe ya one."

Tommy hummed thoughtfully. "You gonna tell me what's goin' on?"

Joel placed his coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. "Just wanna spend some time with her, that's all. Tryin' to change for the better, like ya said."

Tommy smiled to himself, seemingly pleased that his brother had listened to his advice. "Joel Miller, a romantic," he mused teasingly.

"Shut up," Joel muttered. "Now will ya cover me or what?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, okay. But I can't do a double shift - Maria would kill me."

"So ask someone else," Joel shrugged. He tried to appear like he was sincerely thinking of different suggestions for who might be available. "Well, who ain't rostered on Wednesdays? What about...Harry? Or....or Estrada?"

Joel knew Harry was already working at the blacksmith sheds tomorrow and wouldn't be able to swap onto a patrol shift. Joel also knew full well that Oscar was at the stables and would easily be able to fill in.

Tommy smoothed his moustache with his thumb and forefinger and clicked his tongue. "I reckon Oscar might be able to."

And there we go, Joel thought smugly as a triumphant glow spread wide across his chest. So fuckin' easy.

He clapped his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Look, leave it with me, I'll go arrange it with him. Save you the trouble."

"Good," Tommy laughed and nodded along. He turned off the burner on the stove and gave his brother a wry grin. "Cos I don't need anymore headaches, asshole. Now get the plates and let's eat."

It was your day at the library and also the day of your weekly lunch date with Oscar. You were nervous to see him, having spent the last few days contemplating if you should bring up the question of whether or not he was now seeing someone.

It is not your business, you kept reminding yourself, you need to let it go.

Each week on Wednesday, like clockwork, Oscar arrived at the library at noon. But today he didn't come strolling through the door at the expected time. You watched the clock intently as the minutes progressed. When he still hadn't shown by 12.15pm you reasoned that there must be a mountain of work to do at the stables and he's just running a little late. You continued to wait patiently, still taring at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall opposite where you stood.

At 12.30pm you began to panic. Perhaps something had happened to Oscar. What if there had been an accident at the stables? Or maybe Oscar was sick? But then you remembered Joel's revelation at dinner last week and his words rang in your ears like a jeering jingle.

"He's busy with some mystery woman alotta the time."

You couldn't help the taunting feeling of rejection that came creeping into your mind. What if Oscar had stood you up to go see this woman instead? What if he had forgotten about you? You shook your head to rid yourself of the intrusive thoughts but as the minutes passed by excruciatingly slow, your spirit sunk lower and lower into the pit of your stomach.

When he hadn't shown up by 1.30pm all you wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed to wallow in your sorrow.

Then the door bell jingled. Your head quickly snapped toward the door.

But it wasn't Oscar who had finally arrived. Instead, you were met by the sight of Joel purposefully striding into the library with a satisfied grin on his face. His hair was slicked back, fresh from the shower, and he wore a black long sleeved shirt underneath his Carhartt jacket. You were even more unnerved by how gorgeous he looked.

"J-Joel?" You stuttered, completely dumbfounded. You couldn't even remember the last time Joel had been inside the library.

"Hey, baby," Joel drawled silkily as he approached you.

"H-hi," You mumbled dumbly, still awestruck by his presence.

Joel wrapped an arm around your waist and gathered you into his broad chest, his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face tenderly in his palm. He tilted your face up at him while he stared down at you with a loving adoration in his gaze. Your tummy fluttered with nervous excitement, then Joel bent his head to kiss you softly on the mouth.

The smell of soap mixed with Joel's scent engulfed your nostrils as you surrendered to the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth and lapped at your own in slow rolling strokes, making you moan softly. Joel squeezed your waist and you reached up to run your fingers through his hair.

You forced Oscar from your mind. You had to, otherwise the pain of disappointment would be too much.

Joel continued to sensually kiss you and your whole body wilted into his strong chest. The familiarity of his warm body enveloping you somehow felt simultaneously comfortable and tantalising, so simple yet so arousing.

Maybe I do belong here, you randomly mused.

When you felt the thick press of Joel's hardened dick against you it caused an involuntary lustful stirring inside your belly. You soon forgot about Oscar and all you could focus on was Joel. The minty taste of his saliva with a hint of coffee. The light tickle of his moustache on your lips. The wide expanse of his palm cupping your face. How his aquiline nose fit so perfectly against your face.

Your clit throbbed with desire. You couldn't resist the way your body responded to him any longer. You were about to grind your pelvis against Joel's crotch when he gently pulled away from the kiss.

"Wait," you whined, confused and frustrated.

Joel stroked his thumb over your cheekbone as he looked down at you, smirking with cocky satisfaction. "Now babydoll, before we get carried away here, I got somethin' for you."

"Uhm, okay," you whispered, uncertain what to expect.

Joel released you from his grasp and took a step backward. You watched, intrigued, as he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a white handkerchief folded into a small square. It had a delicate lace trimming along its edges.

"Open your hand," Joel instructed you softly. You obediantly held out your hand with your palm facing up and Joel carefully placed the handkerchief onto it.

"What is it?" You asked, your eyes flickering up to look at Joel uncertainly.

"Open and see," he said with a nod to your hand.

You carefully unfurled the pretty white material in your hand and found a delicate gold chain curled in the middle. You gasped. It was the necklace from the shoebox you had found while snooping through Joel's possessions. You swallowed and reminded yourself to act surprised in order not to raise Joel's suspicions.

You held up the necklace to study it closer and noticed just how pretty the attached jewel pendant was. As you dangled it infront of you the light reflected off the jewel, causing it to twinkle mesmerically. You hadn't remembered it being so attractive when you briefly spied it in the shoebox. Now that you held it close, you could appreciate just how beautiful it was.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes fixated on the piece of jewellery. "Wow...this is amazing, Joel."

"Just for you, baby," Joel murmered. "You like it?"

You couldn't help giving him a shy little smile. "I do," you whispered truthfully. "Thank you."

Joel smiled back at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. He watched the delight in your expression as you examined the necklace, pride bursting inside his heart at being the one to make you smile.

Joel ended up staying with you at the library for a while to keep you company and browse through some of the book titles. When a horde of noisy school children came barging in through the door, you looked at him and laughed, knowing that he would make a hasty escape.

As Joel was about to walk out the door he spied a folded piece of paper peeking out from under the welcome mat just inside the entrance. He discreetly bent down and picked it up before stalking away towards home.

Back at his house Joel made sure to tear up the paper into tiny irretrievable pieces. He needed to make sure that you could never read the apologetic note Oscar had written. He must have slipped under the library door before his patrol shift earlier that morning, Joel presumed.

It is busy in the mess hall that night. It's close to 8pm, the latter part of the dinner shift, so the families and children have already eaten and are now home, tucked up safe and warm in their beds. Most of the residents occupying the mess hall now are workers who began later in the day, such as the afternoon labourers that took over from the morning crews.

You and Rhi sit at one of the smaller tables amongst the throng of diners and pick at the food on your plates. You listen to her impassioned report about why her supervisor is a control freak, how the sewing machines at the haberdashery need maintenance but no one listens to her, and that she is sick of being condescended to because of her age. You nod along sympathetically. Although Rhi can be obstinate at times, you know she's a dedicated seamstress who takes her craft seriously and you dislike seeing her be treated so unfairly.

Joel is already seated and eating dinner with Troy, Tommy, Harry and Oscar. His gaze fell upon you the moment you walked into the mess hall and he found himself furtively glancing your way every so often. He only half listens to the trivial conversation going on around him, not really interested in the bantering and amicable debates the other patrolmen liked to engage in.

Joel wasn't the only one to notice your presence, though. He clocked the way Oscar's head turned in your direction and the way his back straightened when he spied you. Oscar wasn't adept at disguising his feelings very well, Joel had come to learn. He could see the yearning on Oscar's face as clear as day.

Christ, the bastard had really fallen for you.

Sometime later, when the men had almost finished eating their meal, Tommy excuses himself and disappeares to the kitchen. Joel lazily picks at his teeth with a toothpick and observes you and Rhi.

Damn, you're so beautiful, especially when you're so unaware that you're being watched, he thinks.

Tommy returns a minute later and throws a conspiratorial wink at his older brother as he sits back down at the table. Joel leans back in his chair and folds his arms and patiently waits to see his plan unfold.

It's only another minute before a woman approaches their table and shyly clears her throat. The men look at her expectantly but she seems to zero in on Oscar.

"Excuse me," she speaks, voice silky and polite. "Oscar, I was wondering if I could have a word?"

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the woman. "Me?" He asks her, confounded.

She nods coyly and hitches a thumb over her shoulder. "Maybe over this way, for a bit of privacy?"

The patrolmen give each other teasing smirks while Oscar stands up and follows the woman. Their eyes watch Oscar and the woman as they walk to an unoccupied space a few tables away and stand to talk.

"Whose she? What's that all about?" Harry pipes up.

"Tryin' my hand at a bit of matchmakin'," Tommy answers with a cheeky grin. "Joel figures we should get him set up with someone."

"Why, Joel Miller," Troy laughs heartily. "Regular ol' cupid, huh?"

Joel rolls his eyes and mutters. "Shut the fuck up."

The men all laugh and glance back over at Oscar.

It is in the same moment that you catch sight of Oscar for the first time tonight. Seeing his face sends a shameful pang of dejection spearing into your heart. He stood you up and now here he is without a care in the world. He doesn't appear to be injured or unwell, either. Infact he looks really good.

And he's also with a woman.

You swallow thickly.

This must be the mystery woman.

You watch them intently and realise you recognise who she is. Her name is Gayle. You had known her from your time on cleaning and food prep duty. Gayle was a friendly woman and easy to talk to. She was also beautiful, with long blonde hair and light blue eyes and a wide smile. She was probably around Oscar's age, perhaps even a bit older.

You watch the interaction from where you sit, hating the wretched bubbles of envy simmering in your guts. Oscar is facing away from you but you have a clear view of Gayle and the bright smile plastered on her face, aswell as the enthusiasm in her body language. You wish you could hear their conversation and what he's saying to her.

It doesn't matter, though. The scene is too much for you to bear. It hurts to see him but it hurts your heart even more to see him with another woman.

You're such an idiot.

You quickly mumble to Rhi that you are done eating and want to go home. Rhi feels the same. When you both stand up to leave the table you are suddenly blockaded by three men. They stand tall infront of you with their arms crossed, exuding an intimidating air of arrogance. They leer at you and Rhi with taunting smirks carved on their faces.

"Hey babe, where'd you disappear to?" The blonde ranger chuckles to Rhi.

Oh, this must be that asshole who touched her.

"Anywhere you wouldn't be, apparently." Rhi spits back. "Get out of our way, Beau."

He shakes his head and grins down at her. "Nah, I want another chance. What do you say, baby? Ya didn't even let me get a proper turn."

Rhi growls and stabs her forefinger into his chest. "Listen here, dickface. I don't want anything to do with you, so fuck off."

The three of them snicker. The Beau tuts at Rhi leans closer to her face, now completely invading your space. "Maybe I'll just have to fuck your little friend here, then she can tell you what you're missing out on."

Suddenly you're aware of the loud thud of boots stomping against the floor, but before your mind can register what's happening, Joel's meaty hand grabs onto Beau's shoulder and wrenches him backwards. He stumbles.

"What the fuck?"

Joel shoulders himself past the men and stands himself past the men and stands beside you and Rhi.

"Think the ladies made themselves clear the first time, boys," Joel barks. "They ain't interested."

The young men seem to recognise Joel and the obnoxious smirks fall from their faces immediately. One of the dark haired men visibly loses all his confidence and shuffles back a few steps away from Joel and his friends. Beau is clearly the ring leader of the group as he remains standing where he is, chest puffed out and glowering petulantly between Joel and Rhi.

"She's being a tease," the blonde ranger argues back indignantly "Flirts with me from across the room and then acts like a bitch when I try talk to her!"

Rhi scoffs loudly and rolls her eyes. "Yeah right, Beau."

You glance up at Joel to see his steely gaze pinned to the young man, his furrowed brows and clenching jaw signalling his aggravation. Beau was almost as tall as Joel but no where near as imposing in strength and presence. He looked foolish standing infront of Joel trying to justify himself. The hall has fallen silent and everyone has turned to watch the confrontation unfold before them.

"That should tell ya she ain't interested." Joel said through gritted teeth.

"Well, her friend hasn't said anything," the other ranger quips, gesturing to you. "You don't speak for both of them."

A seething wrath blazes in Joel's eyes when the arrogant words fall from the young man's mouth. The air is uncomfortably thick with tension. You shuffle backwards a little and press against Rhi's side and, sensing your unease, she slips her arm around your side.

"Matter of fact, I do. And she ain't interested, either. Now get the fuck outta here before I break your jaw." Joel growls.

Joel steps closer to the younger men, challenging them to dare defy him. You swear you can feel the collective suspense of the townsfolk all around you. Your heart beat pounds in your ears as your eyes darting back and forth between Joel and the others.

All the self assured macho arrogance drains from the three men's faces at the threat of Joel Miller beating the shit out of them. Their shoulders slump in defeat and then they begin to walk away, scoffing and sneering as they leave, their anger at being rejected now exacerbated by their humiliation. One of them mutters "whatever, man" under his breath and Beau glares at Rhi. She sticks her middle finger up at him.

"You okay?" Joel asks.

He's addressing both you and Rhi but his soulful brown eyes are trained solely on you. His brows are furrowed with worry. You stare back up at him and nod, dumbstruck by such a public display of his concern.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Joel." Rhi answers with a smile. "I reckon they won't be a problem anymore."

Joel glances at her and nods curtly, then looks back to you. You feel captivated by the expressive beauty of his features, like how his mouth parts ever so slightly, as if he is breathless, and the almost sorrowful way his gaze roams all over your face. There is no trace of anger reflected in Joel now, only a gentle protectiveness that makes your tummy feel fluttery. The intimacy of the moment between you and Joel makes you forget about the rest of the townsfolk surrounding you. You feel the sudden urge to kiss him.

"Can I walk you home?" Joel asks you, his voice soft but gravelly.

"Yes, please," you whisper back.

"Strong and chivalrous. I guess you'll be safe without me," Rhi chuckles as she slips her arm from around your waist. "Go have fun."

You flash a shy smile at her and she gives you an enthusiastic nod of encouragement. Joel steps aside and holds his arm out, gesturing for you to stand and walk next to him. You sidle up beside Joel and feel his hand come to rest possessively on your lower back. The magnitude of this exhibition is profound - no one has ever witnessed Joel Miller actually touch a woman before, and doing so with such reverence and familiarity. It is a statement, a declaration. Joel has claimed you.

He escorts you through the mess hall to up to the door.

"Come on baby, let's go home," he murmers close to your ear.

He pushes open the door and pulls you close against him in order to squeeze through the threshold together, and you giggle.

You don't look behind you, not even to check if everyone is still watching you (which they are). You don't see Rhi proudly grinning after you, or Tommy smirking quietly to himself. You don't see Oscar or his crestfallen expression, or how his orbs swim with woeful disappointment to see you walk away with another man.

taglist - @sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy @anoverwhelmingdin @unknownsuser101 @shesarealcarpentersdream @sheeeeeppp @uncassettodiricordi @axshadows @puduvallee @gossipgirl-03 @mandoloriancookie @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

#joel miller x reader #joel miller dark #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #joel miller #dddne #joelmiller

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chronivore · 11 months

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Shriek of the Mutilated

#Shriek of the Mutilated

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 28 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Capitulo 2

credit @brekitten @bucketorandomness @hermit-scribe-vibe for help and inspiracion :D

Danny clamped his teeth down on his kill, at last a fish big enough that to feed the both of them, and which hadn't escaped. Ear fins fanned out, he kept wary of approaching hums of boat engines.It could've been only a few minutes, but to Danny it was as if hours had passed. He'd already failed Damian once, and for his distraction he earned a new gash or two from his hunt.

Danny startled when he came back. Damian had not awoken just yet, but the transformation was complete. Dark green scales enveloped every inch of skin on his body, soft from youth. Spots of gold scales like freckles gathered around his cheeks, and at the base of each of his fins and transitioned into full golden membrane with the faintest red along the tips.

And of course, Damian had no legs, none at all, replaced by the thick sinew and muscles of a siren's tail. All of this Danny knew would happen, and expected, but he never thought about how tiny Damian looked at the moment.

From head to tailfin, Damian's new height (or length?) only equalled half of his human height. Siren children were small compared to humans, for sure, but even Youngblood was easily a head or two taller than Damian at this moment.

Before he could ruminate further, Damian's eyes shot open. Faster than Danny could blink, the new siren launched himself at Daniel with a piercing shriek of a war cry.

Damian's talons gripped onto Danny's scales, and his jaw snapped down upon his shoulder like a vice. Danny yelped and fell upon his back and bent his sail.

Damian's tiny hands wrapped around the elder boy's neck. His tiny young face twisted into an honestly shocking amount of anger and agression. His hackles rose and his fins stood at full attention.

"Where am I?! What have you done to me?! Return me to my original form or perish!" Damian spat out in hissed clicks and chirps. Despite the situation, Danny finds himself thinking he had to be really upset if he didn't even notice the change in voice.

"Answer me!" Damian hiss and bared his teeth. Danny gulped, which was difficult considering the tiny hands vice-gripping his neck. Suddenly he realised he'd never had to comfort a newly-turned before.

"H-hey hey hey now, there's no need to get all murderous over here!" That was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly there was a katana straight for his neck. "Where did you get that?!"

"From my clothes, you buffon, the clothes that you violently relieved me off. What other untoward things have you done with my body? Speak!"

"Look I didn't do anything untoward to your body I swear! I was trying to save you!"

"You mutilated me! You kidnapped me and drowned me and now you clain innocence with nothing to prove such a notion!" Damian's grip wavered for a moment, and Danny realised something. This kid was probalby scared out of his life, and his shouting wasn't helping anything. The smaller boy's gills flapped open. His breathing laboured, heavily.

"You need water. You're not gonna survive long.

"I can kill you long before that point." Gently, Danny picked the child up by the waist, his arms far outreaching the boy's tiny limbs. "Unhand my you psychotic murdering wretch!"

Horns blared in the distance. Damian's body seized up, his ear fins curling in on themselves in Danny's peripheral vision. "They've caught up to us."

"Good, now it means you can be put to justice and I reunited with my father."

Danny coiled his tail and pulled Damian against his chest, against the boy's protests. "The only thing they're gonna unite you with is a scalpel."

"I said unhand me!"

"No time!" Danny uncoiled like a spring and shot into the water. GiW agents shouted above the surface. Danny held him tight against his body. Motors roared into action and echoed through the water. Sonars rang in his ears. But they could never catch up to even a teenage siren.

Pain rocked up his arm. Danny loosed his grip, and Damian slipped out. After floundering for just a few seconds, Damian righted himself and bolted for the ships. The speed at which he made for the freaking GiW shocked Danny. This kid was a human less than an hour ago!

Shit. "Where the heck are you going?!" Danny shouted. He wasted precious seconds turning around and doubling back. "They're not gonna help you Damian!"

"You cannot fool me with your temptations, siren!" Daman spat out. Then he did the absolute worst thing. He surfaced.

Danny's heart sank again. No, no, not again. He pushed through as fast as he could. Damian shouted something above the water. An agent in cold sunglasses aimed a gun at him.

Damian seemed to realise his mistake. He tried to evade the attack, but his strange body just left him rolling over in place.

Danny's eyes glowed blue. Seawater froze into ice in his hands, and he tossed the spear over water. The spear landed an inch away from where the agent was standing. In his shock, he lowered his gun. Danny shot forward. He grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him away. Harpoons flew into the water. Danny ducked and weaved through all of them and full speed. Soon they were far behind the horizon.

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yandereunsolved · 17 days

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Hii Im not sure if youre taking requests rn but if you have the time I would love for a yandere Kit Walker hc set or a yandere post death Kyle Spencer fic where the reader tries to leave him at Misty’s :)

The Honey In My Honeycomb - ,, yandere Kit Walker pre and post Asylum

tw(s): yandere themes, mentions of baby trapping, mention of murder of child(ren), descriptive gore

♡ It all started out like a cheesy romance movie. Your car broke down, and Kit just happened to be driving by. He fixed your car and invited you back to his shop. He ended up changing your oil and tires for free. It evolved into the two of you dating shortly after. You never saw the warning signs—none of them. You never saw through Kit's honeyed words and his charming smile. You would have been better off if you just listened to that tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to run while you still could.

♡ You were stuck at his shop all day. He had gone home to retrieve some tools and never came back. You got worried that something may have happened to him. You weren't prepared for the gory scene you found. A trail of blood led to your bedroom, where you found Kit passed out near the mutilated corpse of a woman. Your clothes were thrown all around him, and he was cuddling them in his sleep. You freaked out and shrieked, which woke him up. He desperately tried to explain it to you. He pleaded with you to just listen to him. You didn't. You ran and reported him to the police. A part of your mind did want to believe him. The more time that passed, the more you believed in his innocence. Only you were wrong. He did murder all those people that he was accused of killing—over fifteen. He did it all for you. That is the secret he will take to the grave with him.

♡ He was put in Briarcliff Asylum while awaiting his trial. You were allowed to visit him, although it terrified you. You had heard such bloodcurdling stories about that place from the few patients that had survived it. Your visits with him always had to be monitored. Sometimes, though, no one would. That confused you, but you never verbalized it. Kit just threatened to kill the nuns if they interrupted your time with him. All of the nuns thought he must have been possessed by some lust devil. He just could never seem to get enough of you. Day and night, the only thing that came out of his mouth was praise about you—how pretty you looked, how vulnerable you were, how he had to protect you from the vile world that threatened to taint your purity.

♡ It was irritating, really. Protecting your visage wasn't easy when so many people tried to interrupt him. He had to get rid of Grace. It was really her fault. She just shouldn't have been flirting with him. She shouldn't have tried to come onto him. She shouldn't have ignored his warnings. He said multiple times that he was a man who was happily dating such a beautiful thing as yourself. Grace just didn't seem to listen to that. She even had the gall to interrupt one of your meetings with each other. He was in the middle of showing you how much he missed you. That was the last straw.

He made it seem like it was Doctor Arden's fault with a botched sterilization. He can clean that up himself. He's a big boy, and Kit isn't helping. He can't make himself look guilty in any way, of course. He could never let you know how much of a monster he really was.

♡ He has kept a ring in his pocket since the day he met you. The ring belonged to his grandfather. It's practically a family heirloom. He so desperately wants to put it on your finger. He just wants everyone to know that you belong to him—his darlin', his one and only. The thing is extremely shiny, too. It'd look so good on your hand.

♡ That's not the only jewelry he has for you. He has a lot more tucked away in his trusty, rusty old red tool box. He stole all of it from the people he killed for you. He plans on giving it all to you as wedding gifts. He'll fix all of the pieces, of course. He'll wipe the blood away and make sure none of it stains your beautiful figure. He also stole their money from their bank accounts. He has more than enough to keep you both financially stable until you die. He would never let his little house spouse work with some other man. The thought of it just makes his hand itch to reach for an axe.

♡ He fantasizes about what your wedding would look like. You'd look like a god(dess) walking down the aisle toward him. You wouldn't need anyone but him and the priest. He would kill the priest after. You wouldn't know that. It's just that he can't let anybody see such a holy sight except for him. He wouldn't want to risk somebody making an off comment or lusting over your figure.

Your body is yours and yours alone. It's also his, if you'll allow him to have it.

He can't wait till the wedding night. He has it all planned out. After your dinner, you'll both bathe together. He'll set the mood. You both will have each other for the first time in marriage. It's something that makes his mouth water when he thinks about it.

♡ If you can get pregnant... He will immediately try for a baby with you. He just thinks your belly would look so adorable swollen up with a mixture of you and him. You'd be completely dependent on him. You wouldn't be able to leave, and he'd be the best father to your children. Not to mention, he can teach them how to be protective of you. It'll be absolutely perfect! You'll have no way to escape!

♡ If you are unable to get pregnant... Kit doesn't want you to worry. He'll just pick a random kid off the street if he needs to. He'll kidnap a baby from the hospital and say he adopted them. He could go the legal route for adoption as well, if that would better please you. Anything to keep you with him until you both die in each other's arms.

♡ He ideally wants anywhere from two to five kids. He's always wanted one girl and one boy. He'd ultimately want five because you'd never leave him all alone with five children. Sure, you could run off with two, three, and a slim chance of four, but five? No. You have absolutely no chance of escaping him, then. Unless you wanted to abandon them and him, that is. That's fine! He'll just threaten their lives. He'll kill one of them if it convinces you to stay. There are no lengths he wouldn't go to to prove his unending love for you.

♡ He already has your shared casket picked out. He picked it out within the first week of both of you dating. He's already written both of your wills with your future children in mind. He has the plot of land picked out and everything. He may not be a rich man, but he'd spend every penny he has to make sure your shared resting place is envious to the heavens.

♡ The day he is released is a day that will live in infamy within his mind. He finally knew that he had to tie you to him, both literally and figuratively. He understood how fickle humanity is. He needs to save you from the dangers and trauma he faced while in there. The same Kit that came into the asylum isn't the same one that came out. He's a lot more open about his obsessive and possessive tendencies. That crazed look in his hazel irises isn't clouded by his sweet and homey nature anymore. You could see it; you can see it now. You couldn't escape.

♡ He doesn't allow you to leave the house for the first few months. If you try to escape, then it'll be even longer before he allows you to roam free without many restraints. You are trapped within a prison of his own desire. He gaslights you into believing it's for the best. You know how dangerous the world is out there. He's been through the asylum. He knows. He just wants to protect you. Can't you see that? He's traumatized and wants to protect you from that trauma. So that means locking you away in your shared house and keeping you there. Don't worry about boredom. Kit will buy you anything that will make a smile appear on your features. He's addicted to it. You have no shortage of books and other trinkets to keep you entertained while he is out working. Just not anything that you could use to communicate with people. The last thing he needs is you getting that silly little idea in your head to call the police on him.

♡ After about a year in captivity, assuming you haven't made numerous escape attempts, he'll propose to you and allow you to take short excursions with him. The wedding is just as he thought. It's just you, him, and the priest in the middle of the woods, only a few miles from your shared house. You may not have any guests or family, and he may have foraged the wedding certificate by signing fake people as witnesses, but your marriage is still real. A piece of paper doesn't define your love for each other. Of course, he murders the priest after. He chopped him up into tiny pieces with his axe, soaked his body in a mixture of chemicals, and then left those pieces of him at the bottom of lakes, rivers, and streams at least twenty miles away from the house. If you ask him what he's doing, he'll simply say that he's doing some spring cleaning. He's just taking out a bunch of old trash, that's all.

♡ Even when you gain more privileges, Kit still always has an eye on you. He's always close to you. He'll give you the illusion of space and privacy if he needs to. If you distance yourself too much from him, then he'll sweet talk you into letting him into your space once again. You don't feel good? It's because you haven't let him make you feel good in a while. You feel depressed because you aren't around him as much. You're isolating yourself from him. That's the problem. The problem is you. He'll be right here when you inevitably crawl back to him. He'll shush you and pepper kisses all along your body. You'll realize that you need him even more than he needs you.

♡ Give it two to five years and a lot of begging, and he'll let you help him while he works. He doesn't let you do any hard labor or interact with the customers. No, honey, he keeps you safe and sound in the back of the shop. You can clean his tools, sort his things, and perhaps even handle the money if he trusts you enough. It may look mundane to most people, but you crave it. You've been starved of any autonomy for the past few years. Being able to control a small workplace is like being somewhere safe, somewhere without Kit. You can allow your mind to drift off and fool yourself into thinking that you are safe. You can just imagine that Kit is nowhere to be found. You can almost taste freedom on your tongue during those fleeting moments.

♡ If you ask for help from someone, he kills them and burns their bodies to ashes in the hearth in your home. He finds it extremely romantic. He'll cuddle into you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. He'll nip at your skin and mark you up. He's just a bit jealous. He's just a little more possessive. He can't believe that you thought someone else was better than him. He can't believe you wanted to leave him. He'll show you how good you have it. He'll just have to show you again how good he makes you feel—inside and out. The vile dead bodies of the people who have tried to help you take you away from him will keep you both warm at night. He'll take you right in front of the fireplace. He'll claim you again near the sizzling embers of those who dared get near you.

♡ Kit Walker is still as in love with you as the day he laid eyes on you. He has fallen even further into the depths of his own obsession with you. He's ready to take the next step and start a family with you. He can't wait to see your little ones running around the home. He can't wait to see them graduate with you. He can't wait to grow old with you; his devotion to you never faltering. He just needs you to be with him forever, even into the afterlife. He loves you. He'd kill the devil and every god in existence if he had to, just to keep you in his arms forever more.

-‘๑’-

ׂׂૢ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @newwavesylviaplath @marchsfreakshow @violet1737

-‘๑’-

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