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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

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Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended.

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not.

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become.

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself.

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green.

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him.

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain.

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really.

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down.

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else.

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes.

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating.

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham.

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking.

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line.

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes.

Danny shivers and walks faster.

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty.

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers.

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park.

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin.

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman.

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say.

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes.

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile.

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate.

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world.

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate.

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers.

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice.

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says.

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding.

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air.

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again.

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke.

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance.

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to.

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten.

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life.

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise.

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the horror of knowing what kind of monster you are capable of becoming paired with the knowledge that your soulmate has suffered bc of you #and reasonably wants you dead/taken out of the picture not just for revenge but for the sake of everyone's safety #but also from duke's pov he's found a teenager wandering into gotham's last refuge. he looks strangely untouched by the end of the world.#hes looking for batman who duke watched die. and then it turns out that hes a younger version of the monster that ruined your life #(and everyone elses life) and realizes that this is who his soulmate once was #and then knowing that he either has to kill this innocent version of his soulmate or let his existence be unwritten #there is no happy ending for post-apoc duke's story #but he and danny get a second chance in a new timeline where things are better #doesnt mean the nightmares ever leave danny lol #thanks for the prompt!!

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punkshort · 9 months

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Chapter warnings: explicit smut (I don't know how much detail I should go into without giving too much away, but let's call it porn with a sprinkling of plot), language

Chapter Fourteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

The sun was bright as it beamed through the window, washing over your face and making you squint before you even opened your eyes. You groaned and rolled over, wondering how you had forgotten to close the curtains last night when you realized you weren't in bed, but on the couch in the living room. You cracked one eye open and looked around, spotting the wine glasses on the coffee table and the fire that had gone out long ago. Opening both eyes, you sat up and looked around the living room, then peered into the kitchen when you didn't see Joel. Looking down, you noticed he had covered you with a blanket at some point. You pushed it to the side and stood up to stretch, the side with your injury responding with a quick jolt, reminding you to take it easy.

You wandered into the kitchen looking for any sign of Joel. Anxiety set in as you wondered if he regretted last night, that maybe he was drunk, and you thought it meant more than it did. You paused at the bottom of the stairs when you heard water splashing from the bathroom off the master bedroom. He's probably just washing up.

You whipped your head around trying to remember where you put your backpacks yesterday, then spotted them in the den. You dug through your pack until you found a half-used tube of toothpaste. You squirted a glob onto your pointer finger and swished it around your teeth, cheeks and tongue as you walked to the kitchen to take a swig of water from your canteen and rinsed.

Trying to keep your nerves in check, you approached the stairs and slowly made your way up, listening as the sound of water stopped. You heard fabric rustling on the other side of the door when you entered the bedroom. The attempt at calming your nerves was a lost cause as you felt your heart hammering in your chest. You looked meekly around the bedroom, unsure what to do with yourself as he finished up. You wanted to sit on the bed, but you didn't want to look like you were just out there waiting for him to come fuck you. Finally, you decided to go into the closet where you kept some spare clothes so you could pretend to be busy folding them. You turned away from the bathroom and took one step in the direction of the closet when the door swung open.

He must have washed his hair because it was wet and slicked back. He had put a flannel on with his usual jeans, but he left the top two buttons undone on his shirt, giving you a peek at his tanned chest. Your mouth hung open as you took him in before finally meeting his heated stare.

"Hi," you murmured, the tension palpable. Joel took two long strides and grabbed your face in his hands, pulling you up to him as his lips found yours. He sighed against your mouth when he felt you return the kiss, massaging your lips on his, then granted you access when your teeth grazed his lower lip. He walked you backwards until you hit the wall of the bedroom, his tongue hungrily exploring your mouth, making you moan. He lowered his hands from your face to reach down and grip the backs of your thighs before yanking both your legs up to wrap around his waist, pinning you between him and the wall.

You squeaked in surprise and grabbed onto his broad shoulders to keep you balanced, your tongue swirling with his as one of his hands slid up your thigh to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while his other hand braced himself on the wall behind you. He ground his hips into your aching core, making you break the kiss and cry out. Even through the thick fabric of your jeans, the contact sent a jolt from your cunt to your fingertips. You gasped as his mouth latched onto your neck, nipping up and down your throat followed by soft licks to soothe any pain he may have caused.

"Joel," you panted, raking your nails through his wet hair and gently over his scalp, making his eyes roll back in his head as he moaned against your neck. "Please," you begged, grinding your hips against his to try to find some relief. He removed his hand from the wall and lifted you up, turning you both around and walked the few steps to the bed, tossing you down to land on your back. He stood between your legs at the end of the bed, panting and staring down at you all sprawled out for him. You reached down to unbutton your jeans and shimmied out of them, tossing them on the floor. His gaze immediately locked onto your underwear, which were nothing special, just a pair of light blue cotton panties, but your arousal was evident by the darkness spreading at the center, making him groan loudly and palm his erection over his jeans.

You leaned back on your elbows with your knees bent and legs partially spread. His gaze flicked up from your pussy to look you in the eye. His lips were parted as his chest heaved, and his pupils were blown wide as he ran his eyes down your body again, drinking you in. Even with your shirt still on, you were beginning to feel self-conscious under his stare.

"Don't you want me?" you asked him sweetly, making him tear his eyes off your body and back onto your face. Lips still parted, he nodded eagerly, and palmed his cock again. He had yet to say a single word to you and you were growing impatient.

"Then tell me," you said, watching as he swallowed roughly, "tell me how badly you want me."

He growled as he leaned forward on the bed, placing his fists on either side of you to hold himself up, and gently pressed his lips against yours again, slowly applying more pressure to your mouth as he inched forward, pushing you to lay flat on your back as he brought his knees to rest between your legs. He released your lips and lifted his head up to look at you, taking one of his hands still fisted next to you on the bed to gently cup your face. His gaze was soft, and his eyes sparkled from the sun peeking through the curtains as he admired you. You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.

"I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you," he croaked, his voice thick with emotion. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze as he continued, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I wasted so much time, fought it for so long," he said, shaking his head, "I never thought I could feel this way again, then you showed up, talkin' back to me in that meeting in front of everyone."

He smiled at the memory, running his thumb over your soft lips.

"Couldn't get you out of my damn head, you know that?" He leaned down to give your lips a tender kiss as you whimpered at his sweet words. "Then the world went to hell, and there we were, protectin' each other, carin' for each other." You smiled up at him now, trying not to ruin the moment with tears. You placed your hand over the one he held on to your face, rubbing circles over his damaged knuckles.

"I don't think I can put into words how badly I want you, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. "But I promise you, I ain't gonna waste another second spent with you ever again."

"Joel," you rasped, desperately trying to hold back your tears as he lifted his head up, and you looked back and forth between his eyes. You snaked your hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss you, pouring all your emotions into every bite on his lip and flick of your tongue. Joel ran his hand down your side to the bottom of your shirt, pushing it up as he slid his hand up your stomach and over your ribs until he reached your bra. He tucked his fingers underneath the fabric to palm your breast gently before expertly rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You cried out at the sensation and tipped your head backwards, arching your back and pushing yourself into his hand further. He leaned back on his knees to lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. You laid underneath him, almost completely exposed, while he was still fully clothed. You whined and pulled at the waistband of his jeans, preventing him from staring at the pink scars along your ribs.

He slid off the bed to quickly shed his jeans and flannel, leaving him in just his boxers as he crawled back on top of you, pressing his warm skin against your own. The air was making the arousal soaking through your underwear feel cold against your skin, and you shuddered. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and placed gentle nips along your collarbone. He held himself above you on one forearm next to your head while his free hand went back to cup your other breast, pinching your nipple between his fingers. You were pinned underneath him, hardly able to move, but you ran your hands up his arms, feeling his muscles twitching under your touch. Your hands landed on his shoulders, and when he gave your nipple a particularly harsh pinch, you dug your fingers into his muscles, rolling your head to the side and let out a yelp.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured against your throat. "Let me make it feel better."

He bent his head down to latch onto the sore spot, sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue over the tip. You moaned, threading your fingers through his drying curls. He released you from his mouth, hovering just over your breast, and gently blew across the wetness he left on your skin. The shock of going from warm to cold made your nipples harden even more, to the point where it was almost painful.

"Fuck, Joel, please," you begged him as he placed gentle kisses along your sternum. His eyes shot up to your face, taking pride in how unraveled you had become under him. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen, and you were struggling to catch your breath. He hummed against your skin. He wanted to give you what you wanted, but he didn't want to rush, either.

"You're gonna have to give me a minute, sweetheart. I've been waitin' a long time for this." he said, sighing as his fingers danced around your ribs. He froze when he felt the shiny, uneven skin of your scars from when you were stabbed. Stabbed when you saved his life.

He lifted his head to get a better look at the injury, gently running his fingers along the edges, marveling at the way goosebumps raised immediately from your skin. He leaned down to press a soft kiss along each of the scars you carried, murmuring to himself after each one.

"What did you say?" you panted, struggling to focus on anything other than his touch.

He ran the tip of his nose over the scars before answering.

"I'm so proud of you, you're so brave and beautiful," he whispered. "I'd do anythin' to keep you safe."

You groaned, wondering if it was possible to have an orgasm from just words alone. You beamed from the praise and lifted your hips up to try to find friction, your cunt pulsing with need. Joel noticed the movement and glanced down between you, deciding to finally give in.

He rolled off you to lay on his side, then wrapped his fingers around the edges of your underwear, tugging them down to your ankles, where you kicked them off the rest of the way. He eagerly climbed back over you and nudged your knees open wider so he could kneel between them. He sat back on his heels and, using his thumbs, pulled open your folds. His jaw hung open, and with a long, drawn-out groan, dragged his eyes back up to yours.

"This all for me?" He drawled, his cock throbbing in his boxers. All you could do was nod, your chest heaving in anticipation. "You're soaked, fuckin' hell, you poor thing," he said, looking back down at your dripping cunt. "D'you want me to take care of you?" he asked lowly, his eyes a darker shade of brown you've never seen on him before. You nodded again, still gasping for air. He reached his bandaged hand up and lightly gripped the underside of your chin.

"Tell me," he growled your previous words back to you, as he struggled to restrain himself from just sliding inside you right away. He wanted to make it last, wanted to make you feel good. He wanted it to mean something.

"I need you," you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. "Please, baby, I'm gonna explode if - oh!" Your back arched off the mattress and your head tilted back, mouth agape when he finally slid a thick finger inside you.

"'Baby?'" Joel panted, "Oh, I like that."

You let out a filthy moan as he set a steady pace, plunging his finger in and out, his thumb brushing against your clit teasingly before he slid a second finger inside. You bent your knees as you rocked your hips along with his thrusts, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched you come undone. With his thumb, he pressed down on your clit, swirling it around slowly as he watched your pleasure building, your gasps for air became harsher, and your moans morphing into cries.

He leaned forward on his free hand, his fist pushing into the mattress next to you, as his other hand picked up the pace inside your cunt. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were glazed over as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your eyes squeezed shut, your lower lip trapped in your teeth, moaning his name. When he pressed onto your clit a little harder and began wiggling his thumb side to side, it set something off. You gripped his wrist that was next to you on the bed and your eyes snapped open, finally looking up at him.

"Joel," you panted, "J-Joel, I'm gonna, fuck, please," you begged, "please d-don't stop."

"You're doin' so good for me, sweetheart," he murmured, "I love watchin' you like this. I can't wait to feel this tight pussy around my cock, but I need you to come for me first," you felt the coil in your stomach about to snap and you did your best to keep your eyes open. When he said, "That's it, let go... come for me," your body stilled as you gasped, your vision went fuzzy and you covered your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down.

Joel removed his fingers and leaned down to plant a small kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and removed your hand so he could press his lips against yours before resting your foreheads together, waiting until you caught your breath and came back down to earth. You stared up at him lazily, trailing a finger over his shoulder and across his collarbone, noticing for the first time he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You looked back at his face as he smiled down at you, but you could see the restraint behind his eyes, desperately trying to give you time to recover, but he was struggling.

You reached down between you and slid your hand inside his boxers, brushing up against the tip of his cock. You made your way down to the base and wrapped him in your hand. He hissed and his eyes fluttered closed as you began to work him up and down, gathering his precum with each stroke.

"Do you like that?" you asked him quietly, twisting your wrist back and forth now as you pumped him up and down, his breath growing erratic and the arm that supported him began to shake.

"Yes," he rasped. His forehead rested on your shoulder so you could feel the tickle of his exhale on your neck. "But you gotta stop, or else this'll be over before it began."

You let out a low chuckle but did as you were told. Once you let him go, you hooked your fingers on the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down as far as you could reach. He lifted his forehead off your shoulder so he could fling them into the corner of the room, then settled back over you again, leaning down to give you a quick kiss as his knees nudged your inner thigh. You opened your legs up wider so he could settle his hips in between, his heavy cock pressed between you both, the length of him sliding between your folds as his hips gently rocked back and forth.

A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he felt your slick coating him. He was rubbing against your clit, and it was driving you crazy, already feeling the start of another orgasm building.

"Joel, please, I need you," you whispered against his mouth. He lifted his hips up and with his fist, lined himself up, the tip of his cock gently prodding at your entrance a few times before he pushed himself inside your aching heat.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned as he inched further inside you, stretching you out. He tried to go slow, but he couldn't hold back any longer. He buried himself inside you with one quick motion, making you both cry out. He gave you a minute to adjust before he leaned forward and rested his head back on your shoulder, rocking slowly into you as you raked your fingers through his hair.

"You're so warm, so beautiful," he murmured with his eyes closed. "You feel so good," his hand came down to squeeze the meaty part of your hip as he continued his steady pace. He didn't want to rush, he wanted to savor every moment with you. You bit your lip and lightly scratched your nails down his back, enjoying the feeling of him filling you up.

Joel lifted his head from your shoulder to press his lips against yours before peppering your jaw and sucking on the pulse point in your neck. You groaned as he lifted one of your knees up and pressed it against your chest, sliding out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours, making you see stars. He created the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot when he brought your knee up, and it was dizzying.

He continued down your neck as his pace increased, leaving small bites along your collarbone. All you could hear was your skin slapping together and his quiet grunts that accompanied each thrust. You could feel your orgasm building in your lower abdomen, the familiar tension brewing as his pubic bone made direct contact with your clit each time he fucked into you.

"Joel," you whined, trying to warn him you were close.

"Keep takin' it," he grunted into your neck. "Just like that."

You squeezed your eyes shut trying to stave off your orgasm, but the noises he was making and the spot he was hitting inside was too much. You arched off the bed with a sob, digging your nails into his back. Your lips and fingers felt numb as your second orgasm washed over you, then finally you relaxed into the mattress. Joel sped up now, burying himself into you at a ruthless pace. He lifted his mouth from your neck and met your gaze.

"Tell me," he croaked again, his hair a mess and his face flush. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whimpered. You were becoming sore and overstimulated as he pounded into you, but you kept talking. "I'm yours. I've been yours since we met," you continued as his thrusts became sloppy and his jaw clenched, focused on your words. "I wish you fucked me on the table in the conference room that night."

That sent him over the edge, pulling out at the last minute with a guttural moan and spurting hot ropes of cum all over your inner thighs.

Joel had to fight to keep himself from collapsing on top of you, instead rolling himself to the side at the last minute, gasping for air. He wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you into him, planting small kisses on your temple and eyelids as you hummed, trying to collect yourself after two back-to-back orgasms. You finally opened your eyes and looked at him, his neck still splotched with red from the exertion and the sweat drying on his forehead. You couldn't help yourself. You reached your hand up to grasp the back of his head and brought him down for a burning kiss, running your tongue along his with a groan.

He sighed against your mouth before forcing himself to stand. He went to the bathroom to wet a rag and brought it back, gingerly cleaning up your thighs as you laid spread out before him. Your spent cunt was all he could focus on for a minute before he cleaned up the mess between your legs, taking a moment to admire his handiwork, then dropped the rag in the sink before sliding back beside you in bed.

"We should probably get up," you said to him, your eyes still closed. "You need to find a car battery."

"Batteries aren't goin' anywhere," he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist in case you were going to try to get up and start the day.

You laid there for a while, unsure if he had fallen asleep or not, but you felt so relaxed you weren't sure yourself if you were drifting in and out. You rubbed circles with your thumb along the back of his hand that clutched your waist and watched the sunlight dance along the walls of the bedroom. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

"You’re right, that was worth the wait," you whispered. His face was buried in your hair, his breath tickling your neck, and his soft snores lulled you back to sleep.

Later that morning, Joel ventured out to the various garages in the neighborhood, trying to find a battery with enough juice to power the radio. You tried to busy yourself with unpacking and repacking your backpacks, making sure you were fully stocked with first aid, clothes, food, ammo, and rags - anything to keep your mind off the last 24 hours and how things have changed. But hard as you tried, your mind kept wandering to the feeling of Joel's hands and mouth all over you.

You heard a soft rumble of thunder in the distance. Looking out the window, you could see the sky was getting dark quickly. You glanced up and down the street to see if you could see Joel nearby but saw nothing.

You were in the small pantry, organizing the canned goods you collected and deciding which you would use for dinner tonight when Joel strolled through the front door, calling your name. You popped your head out from the pantry to grab his attention, noticing two car batteries in his arms. He put them both on the kitchen counter and turned to you, your hands each holding a canned vegetable.

“I think one of these might work,” he told you excitedly, "Got back just in time, it's about to pour." You tried to hide your disappointment. You knew that getting the radio to work was the beginning of the end to your blissful, domestic life at Hidden Springs. You gave him a pained smile and put the cans on the counter.

“That’s great,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Do you want corn or green beans tonight?”

Joel immediately picked up on your mood, taking a step forward and gently took hold of your chin in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers. You shook your head, still dodging his gaze, trying to release his grip, but it only made him grab you tighter.

“I don’t want this to end,” you finally admitted, looking into his eyes for the first time. “I’m not ready to leave.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, stroking his thumb along your jaw before pulling you forward to place his lips over yours for the first time since you left the bedroom. You moaned, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepening the kiss. His tongue flicked against your lips, and you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore deeper. The desire damn near suffocated you as you ran your hand down his chest to his waistband, pulling him forward and groaning at the feeling of his stiffening cock against your hip. His hands ran down the length of you before settling on the back of your thighs and lifted you up to sit on the kitchen island. Joel broke the kiss and took half a step back to admire you, raking his eyes up and down your body.

“I had a fantasy like this, once,” he admitted, rubbing his hands along your thighs.

“Yeah?” you whined, chasing his mouth as he hovered over your own but stayed just out of reach. “Tell me.” He groaned at the now familiar command, gripping your hips tightly.

“I wanted to fuck you on my kitchen island,” he confessed, staring you dead in the eye as he watched for your reaction. “I wanted to sink my fingers inside you and watch you come, then I wanted to stuff you full of my cock and make you scream.” A rumble of thunder sounded closer now, the skies looking like they were about to open up.

Your head dropped to the side and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his words, panting for breath now as you reached out to grab his shoulder and pull him closer to you. Your lips latched onto his feverishly, and slipping down from the counter, unbuttoned your jeans before breaking the kiss and turning around, pressing your ass against his hips. You looked back at him innocently over your shoulder.

“Show me," you told him, as the rain began to fall quietly outside.

That was all the permission he needed to unzip your pants and yank them down along with your underwear, tapping your ankle with his own to make you spread your legs as far as you could with your legs still caged by your jeans. You obliged, jutting your hips out to him, anxiously waiting for his touch. He ran his hands down your ass slowly before giving one cheek a firm smack, prompting a small cry from you. He wasted no time before he took two fingers to explore along your slit, feeling the wetness collecting there as you moaned and tilted your head back.

“Are you always this ready, sweetheart?” he mumbled in your ear, slipping one finger inside you as you gasped and shook your head.

“No,” you replied, rolling your head to the side, “only for you.”

He groaned at your words, pushing a second finger inside you, making you wail as he thrusted them in and out, his breath ragged matching your moans. He pumped his fingers inside of you from behind, your hips matching his pace as you tried to chase your high, his other hand digging mercilessly into your hip.

“Joel,” you whined, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure build. “I’m gonna come, baby, please!”

“Then do it,” he snarled in your ear, a flash of lightning reflected on the windows. His hand released your hip and went down to hastily undo his belt. “Come all over my fingers, then I’m gonna make you scream my name with my cock.” He pressed a finger on your aching clit two, three times before you came, gasping and throwing your head back.

He didn't waste any time, quickly removing his fingers from your cunt and pressing the tip of his cock against your opening, giving you only a few seconds to realize what was happening before he pushed inside you with a deep groan. This time, he hardly gave you any time to adjust as he snapped his hips against your ass over and over, making you cry out and bite down on your lip, gripping the edges of the counter. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder as you bucked against him, your hips desperately trying to match his rhythm. The rain beat steadily on the windows now as you could feel beads of sweat beginning to form at the sides of your head, gasping for air at the intense pace Joel set. You turned your head as far as you could to look back over your shoulder at him, his jaw slack as he stared down where he pummeled into you, your ass rippling with each thrust.

"Was it like this?" you asked, panting for breath. He finally looked up and saw you watching him, a smile spreading across your face.

"No," he grunted, fucking into you faster, making you squeeze the edges of the counter even harder. "This is so much fuckin' better."

You groaned and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your pussy squeezed around him, and he could tell you were about to come.

"That's it," he panted, pulling you up from the counter so your back was flush against his chest, the new angle sending you over the edge. "Let go. Let me feel it. I can't get enough."

As promised, you screamed out his name at the same time thunder roared outside. You felt a jolt go through your whole body as you came, your slick coating his cock, gazing helplessly at the ceiling as he rammed into you, chasing his own release.

"That's my girl," he gasped in your ear, his arm wrapped around your chest so you could barely move. "Fuck, you feel so good, like you were made for me-" He grunted and then quickly pulled out, making you whine at the sudden loss, but then you felt the warmth of his release coating your ass and dripping down the backs of your thighs.

You slumped forward over the island to catch your breath, and Joel followed suit, resting the side of his face between your shoulder blades as his hands slid down your arms down to find your own hands, splayed flat on the countertop, intertwining your fingers together. Your eyes fluttered closed, relishing the intimacy before he inevitably pulled away to clean you both up. After tucking himself back into his jeans, he kneeled on the floor to loop his fingers around the sides of your panties, still wrapped around your ankles, and pulled them up, peppering the backs of your legs with kisses along the way.

He began to pull on your jeans, but halfway up you reached down to take them from him, wiggling your hips as the denim slid around your waist. You turned around to face him, buttoning them back up before planting a bruising kiss on his lips. He groaned against your mouth, his hand coming up to cup your face before pulling back, resting your foreheads together.

"You're gonna wear me out, sweetheart," he murmured as his thumb stroked your jaw. You sighed, leaning into his touch and gazed up at him through your eyelashes.

"I can't help it, I just keep thinking about all the times we could have been doing this," you whispered, your hand coming up to cover his own. "You could have been bending me over the desk in your office a year ago, instead of a kitchen counter in the middle of nowhere."

He inhaled sharply at the visual of fucking you in his office, his hand covering your mouth as he railed into you.

"Filthy girl," he muttered, pressing his lips firmly against yours before adding, "I thought about doin' that constantly, drove me insane." He could feel the blood rushing to his cock again, wondering how it was possible to want somebody this badly.

You hummed as you ran your hands up and down his torso, reaching up to finally plant a kiss on that heart shaped patch of skin in his beard, his hand dropping from your face to grip your upper arm, and another roll of thunder echoed through the house.

"Here are those reports you asked for, Mr. Miller," you whispered, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, the low groan in his throat vibrating against your lips. You were already soaking through your underwear again, sighing as you turned your head to press small kisses on the other side of his neck. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"Yeah," he growled, his grip on your arm tightening. "Get on your fuckin' knees and suck me off while I hop on this conference call."

He felt the smile tug across your lips against his throat, reaching down to palm his impossibly hard cock over his jeans.

"Whatever you need, sir," you murmured. You pulled away and sunk to your knees on the floor, placing your hand over his belt when you froze. You thought you heard a shout outside, but it was hard to tell through the thunderstorm. You frowned, looking up at Joel to see if he heard it too, but he was already looking through the kitchen and past the living room out the front window, his eyes widening, then ducked down behind the kitchen island where you were already squatting.

"Shit," he whispered, peering one eye around the corner of the island to look out the window. He saw at least four men carrying rifles and shotguns, shouting to each other over the rain, kicking the door in across the street and waving their arms, motioning for two more men to follow, as they ran inside the empty house to get out of the storm.

"How many?" You whispered, even though you knew they couldn't possibly hear you.

"Six, maybe more," he said through clenched teeth. Once he was sure they were all inside the house, he turned back to you. "We gotta be quick. Grab our packs and coats, I'll go get our weapons and we gotta sneak out the back," he told you, jutting his chin towards the mud room door off the kitchen. "Once this storm lets up, they'll come back out." He saw the look in your eye, and he put a stop to it before you could even say anything.

"There's too many, we can't take 'em sweetheart, I'm sorry." He knew you didn't want to leave, but you both knew this day would come sooner or later. "Now, c'mon, go get our stuff, stay as low as you can so they don't see you in the windows."

You turned away from him and army crawled along the kitchen floor into the den, slowly pulling each of your backpacks towards you, staying below the windows in the room that faced the street. You slung yours over your back and hooked his around your wrist as you turned back, still flat on the floor, and pulled yourself back into the kitchen, shoving his pack near the back door and shrugging yours off to leave next to his. You noticed the door leading to the garage was cracked, and you heard Joel rummaging in the garage for your weapons. Lucky for him, there were no windows to avoid in there.

You continued to crawl towards the living room where you saw your coats draped over the arm of the couch, pulling them down slowly, thankful the rain was coming down so hard now that it was making it difficult to see outside.

By the time you made it back into the kitchen, he was already waiting behind the island with your weapons in hand. You tossed him his jacket and shimmied yours on, zipping it up before pulling your pack back on, now sitting behind the island with him.

"I just repacked these this morning while you were out," you whispered as he pulled his backpack on. "Whatever we're missing, we can get along the way." He nodded, handing you your bow and handgun, while he shouldered his rifle and slipped his revolver into the back of his jeans.

"You ready?" He asked, meeting your gaze. You nodded, trying to hold back your emotions, knowing it was stupid to get attached to a house. He reached his hand out to cup your jaw, knowing what you were thinking without having to say it. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours quickly, then dropped his hand to crouch along the kitchen floor, motioning for you to follow him through the mud room and out the back.

Under the cover of the sheets of rain and neighboring houses, you followed Joel through the backyard and towards the woods surrounding your little sanctuary, throwing one last look over your shoulder, committing the image of the white house with blue shutters to your memory before turning back and facing the dense forest ahead.

Chapter Fifteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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lokischocolatefountain · 9 months

Text

Mercy

My entry for the Haunted Hoedown created by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. Day 7- stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Major character death, stranded in the woods, post apocalyptic life, non con, mentions of previous experiences of non con, suicidal reader)

Summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself as well.

A/N: It’s another Joel Miller weekend here at lokischocolatefountain. I have a husband!Javi locked and loaded, ready to go. But Joel demand my attention once again for the haunted hoedown. So Javi has to wait another week.

You were safe.

Well, safe from the men who had captured you. But other dangers awaited. If you were lucky, it would just be starvation, an encounter with a wild animal or a fucking heart attack. But you didn’t think your good luck would stretch that far. You were already that the raiders who killed and raided the belongings of the men who captured you did not seem interested in you. It was a goddamn miracle.

Ropes bound your arms behind your back and your legs to each other. Either the ropes were tied too tight or you had become weaker over the past ten days of captivity. They didn’t have much food to spare you. Only the small pieces of rotting meat that they fed to you on the condition that you suck their cocks.

It wasn’t as though you had a choice when tied up the way you were. There were other women held captive with you- younger, prettier, less willing to comply and more appealing to the men as they liked a challenge. You were one of the older models, beaten ragged by life both before and after the world fell apart. For them, a woman was a woman. No matter how broken you were, there was always more to break. No matter your age or how fucking crazy you’d gone from survival, you had a pair of tits and three holes. For most men, it was more than they could dream of. For you, separated from your group and all alone, it was the only thing you could barter.

Now there was no need for any of it. You would decay on the ground along with the fallen leaves and the blood you’d spilled when the men cut through your clothes. The last of the women after another one decayed just a couple feet away from you. Yours was a fate better than the girls who were taken away by the raiders. Experience had taught you that. The last time you’d been in the hands of such a group, you were younger. They used you to their heart’s content and then sold you to a man for a good price- a whole goat, a bag of rice, a record player and a couple of vinyls, and a leather jacket. Pretty good stuff. If you had to valuate yourself now, you’d probably go for a small fraction of that- maybe just the leather jacket.

You would no longer go for the same price. You no longer had the strength to kill the man who purchased you like you were just a thing.

You swallowed, your throat aching for water. But all you got was the piercing pain of a hundred jagged pebbles scratching your throat. One of the factoids from an old encyclopedia popped up in your head: It takes x days for dehydration to cause death. Unfortunately, your brain hadn’t thought to pay more attention to the number, leaving you with no information.

What you knew was that it took one day of dehydration to wish for death.

Daylight withered away and darkness descended in the woods, matching the darkness of your thoughts. In the pitch black night with no stars or even a sliver of the moon, whether your eyes were open or closed did not matter. In the times before, it was advised for women to return home before nightfall. As though danger only lurked in darkness. As though men did not behave atrociously in broad daylight. Shaking on the ground from the cold, dehydrated, near death, your biggest fear was still man.

It was why the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves under a heavy footfall struck more fear in you than the sight of the infected ever did. Man.

Measured. Careful. Not infected. Man.

He could just be passing by.

It could’ve been delusions inspired by dehydration and starvation, but the footsteps sounded just a little louder as the seconds passed. He was getting closer.

Joel Miller didn’t know, but your body already played to his beat, your heartbeats responding to the sound of his footsteps. Pills from Atlanta passed on to him from his contact rested in his backpack, the currency with the highest value in the QZ. His hand itched to take one pill for himself. Just one. The nightmares of losing his child flashed before his eyes even before he could succumb to the weariness of the journey and sleep. A pill would help.

Don’t get high on your own supply.

He needed to be at his best state of mind since he was traveling alone now, his companion having been taken out by a clicker on their journey. But God was it tempting.

Darkness enveloped the woods. The moon and stars had abandoned Earth for the night, afraid that if they shone their light on the land, they’d see its haunting wreckage. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it still played tricks on him. For a second, he believed he might have seen a figure move on the ground.

Leaves rustled and crunched beneath his feet. His hands immediate grabbed the gun he had at the ready, the muzzle pointed to the ground. It hit something— someone, he realized when it gasped.

“Please,” your low, shaky voice begged. “Please shoot me.”

He would’ve thought he misheard. Who’d ask to be shot when threatened with a gun? But such was the world in which they’d lived. Death was sometimes more desirable than whatever horrors life had to offer. Joel had survived, somehow. Violence and the sheer human instinct for self preservation kept him around until now, even a decade and a half after the collapse of society.

He brought a lighter close to the ground and lit it, the little golden flame illuminating your bloodied and bruised. He noticed that your arms were bound behind your back and legs tied together at your ankles.

Joel understood you didn’t have long. A day maybe. Longer if you were fed and hydrated. He himself was not interested in charity. If someone else happened by you and you were able to convince them to toss you a piece of bread… But you didn’t want charity. You asked for his bullet, not sustenance.

Bullets didn’t grow on trees.

“Good news. You’ll be dead by daybreak.”

“Please,” you whimpered in a low gravelly voice, mustering up all your energy to beg for this small act of mercy.

You hadn’t asked for his precious rations or water. Only that he finish you off with the weapon he pointed at you. He dropped his belongings somewhere in the vicinity, not bothering to dignify your request with a response.

Joel lied down on the ground in the vicinity in a sleeping bag, his pack serving as a pillow. Sleep did not come easy. He merely rested his eyes, his sense attuned to his surroundings even when he was meant to rest.

When the sun rose, he rolled his sleeping bag and set it inside a hollow tree before heading to the pond nearby. He returned, having washed up, ready to resume his journey back to the QZ. Curious about you, he went to the site where you were last night.

“Please,” you begged once again. “Before you leave. Please.”

He nudged you with his boot, your weakening body rolling to the side and giving him a good view. One bullet. But what a waste of a good body. He could help you in return for something for himself. There was a brothel in the QZ, of course. The oldest profession carried on right under FEDRA’s nose. They pretended to not notice. Sometimes, they’d conduct a raid and arrest some women under the guise of maintaining the law. An excuse for the FEDRA guys to have the women for themselves for the night.

Joel did not indulge in such services. He didn’t see the point in spending precious ration cards just to get off. His spit and left hand were enough for him to get by. But you were free of cost.

“Since you asked so nicely…” he drawled, withdrawing his knife from its holster. He sliced through the ropes that bound your ankles together. You didn’t know his intentions though you’d come to expect it from men over the years. If he wanted to take advantage, he surely would’ve gone ahead with it last night. Sure, Joel hadn’t intended it at first. But now that you were available…

Reliable contraception had died with the world. Too risk averse in this specific matter, he’s contented himself with the rare blowjob. Pussy was a delicacy he hadn’t had in a while. You didn’t protest as he tore your pants off of you, finding skin beneath.

“Be good and I might just kill you in the end, darlin’…” he promised and you spread your legs, cooperating, being good so he would consider it. You didn’t know when the next person would pass by this place. Even if someone did before you could die a slow death, there was no assurance that they’d kill you rather than prolong your miserable existence.

“Wha’s your name?”

“Joel.”

Joel. Joel brought a damp cloth to your face, wiping the blood and dirt off you. It was…strange. It felt as though you were being taken care of. It wasn’t the case of course. But it felt good to believe he was taking care of you. It was the first bit of humanity you’d experienced in a very long time.

The blade slipped under your half torn t-shirt, cutting up the fabric that had done a poor job so far of giving you any dignity. His large hand roamed your now naked torso. Calluses caught on your somehow soft skin. The sensation was the first pleasant thing you’d felt in a long time. You attempted unconsciously to lean into his touch, but your weakness kept you glued to the ground. Even the cold blade of his knife felt good. You’d gone mad, surely. This was definitely a stage of delusion caused by your dehydration and starvation.

He cupped your cheek and leaned down, capturing your lips with his. It was as though you’d forgotten to kiss. The men who took interest in you were less concerned with making use of your lips for a kiss. If Joel had put his cock between them, you would’ve known better what to do. It seemed he’d also forgotten. He wasn’t kissing you. He bit and sucked and devoured.

Your hands were still tied behind you. They dug into your back. But it didn’t hurt as much as Joel’s hand supping your tits. Even the animals who last had you under their control were gentler than this. But you weren’t too offended. It hurt. But there would be sweet death at the end of all this pain. So you embraced it fully, letting out nothing but a little whimper as a sign that you were at all affected by his touch.

Even in your state of near death, you could tell that he was a handsome man. Grey interspersed black curls on his head. Patchy beard hid rugged, sun damaged skin. His aquiline nose would’ve inspired sinful thoughts in you had you been further away from death. In a normal world, he would’ve been getting a drink at a bar and you would’ve noticed him.

Joel spit on his hand and rubbed it around on your dry cunt. With his thumb and forefinger, he parted your cunt lips before inserting his middle finger. Inch by painful inch, he penetrated your unwilling body that was attached to a very willing mind. There was no water left to be spared to wetten your cunt for the man.

“C-cut me,” you suggested, desiring the penetration to be smoother. If this was the last time you got to be fucked, it wouldn’t hurt to hurt a little to enjoy the last few minutes on the mortal plane. “Bl-blood.”

He seemed to understand your weak implication. You hissed as the sharp edge of his knife cut through the top layers of your skin. Red blood oozed out and he swept his hand over it, collecting the blood and smearing it over your cunt. He slipped a finger inside you, lubricating your hole with your own blood.

He knelt over you, his knees on either side of your body. Then he unzipped his jeans, the teeth of the zipper making a scratching metal sound. He was a good length, girth and veiny. He stroked himself as he stared at your bloodied hole.

Fucking a dying woman using her own blood as lube. Of all the messed up things he had done, this was easily on the top ten. Not that he maintained an actual list. Despite her decrepit state, she looked welcoming with her legs spread out and eyes on his cock. He bent your legs at your knees, your body pliant in its weakness. You were a thing of rare beauty in his journey. Nature had reclaimed its place, growing between abandoned cars and splitting into giant overpasses. This, you, were another part of nature to him.

Woman, all beautiful in your vulnerability, laid out to be claimed.

He guided his cock between your legs and forced himself in. Red lube you’d given up for him to use on you coated his cock, reminding him of the violence of his desire. He twitched inside you as he pushed in, a perverse sort of excitement stimulating him.

He brought the knife up to your neck and rested the blunt edge against your throat. You gulped. Your eyes widened. Your breaths quickened. Your cunt clenched around his cock and Oh God how divine you felt this way.

You’d asked for death, practically begged for it. But fear was not something you could prevent. Your wretched mortal body was programmed with the foolishness of wanting to stay alive.

“Been so long,” he muttered when he bottomed out inside you. Though you’d had many men inside you, it’d been long since any stretched you out so good. You took a deep breath and wished you had your hands free. You were overcome by a sudden urge to touch him. To run you hands down his sturdy arms and solid chest. It’d been so long since you wished.

“Good?” You asked, squeezing his cock. He smiled and bent forward to kiss you. Your lips, your chin, along your jaw. It was tender. Too tender for sex in the woods with your clothes torn off and your thigh bleeding into the soil.

He began to move, pulling out just a little before pushing back in. He savored it. After all, this could be his last chance at a cunt for a very long time. He grabbed on to your tits to use as handles, making you squeeze around him. Your lips let out a painful little whine, but he didn’t feel guilty. What bad did a little more pain do? You were going to die anyway. If you weren’t making use of your tits and cunt, at least he could enjoy them.

“So good…” he praised and you responded in kind, thrusting back weakly. “Yeah? You like that, cunt?” He asked, using the crude word in place of your name. He didn’t even know your name. But Cunt was appropriate for the purpose you served. You nodded. “I really struck gold in the fucking woods of all places, huh.”

“Good cunt,” he praised, the words shooting straight into said body part.

“Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, unable to say much else under the assault of the sensations. You didn’t have to for he claimed your lips once again in a kiss. He was better this time and so were you. Your lips stayed connected with his just like your pussy with his cock, devouring each other in desperation for a taste of something good in all the wretchedness.

Joel’s cock drilled into you. Merciless, fast, painful. All you knew before was hunger and suffering. With him, it had all disappeared. It was just Joel now. He consumed you, turning you from a discarded body passed from one raider to the other to Good Cunt. You liked the sound of those words on his lips.

“Just like that, Cunt,” he hissed as you milked his cock, your thighs cramping as your muscles contracted. Something pulled somewhere and you screamed in pain and your cunt tightened for him. Warm cum spilled inside you, the sensation a distracting relief in the midst of the pain.

Tears slipped down the sides of your face, cooling your skin.

“Did well. Did so well, Cunt,” he praised as he tucked himself back inside. He hadn’t felt so good in forever. Such a relief. Such an unburdening of stress and anxiety over his smuggling and its chances of success. He zipped himself up and bent over to retrieve his weapons.

“How do you want to go?” He asked, weighing the gun in one hand and knife in another as he looked down at your debauched body.

You made your choice, thanked him for his mercy and closed your eyes.

My Masterlist

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icedmetaltea · 2 years

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Was blissed with a smidgeon of drawing inspo~

You give me 20' Eclipse and I raise you to EIFFEL TOWER HEIGHT ECLIPSE

Followup pics from dis post, basically pics from a fic I'll never write. Kinda figured the plot would be something like... (rant below)

in a post-apocalyptic steampunk au or somethin where humans were once duking it out against each other or another enemy using giant "titans" (beeeeeg animatronics), Eclipse was the final weapon to end the war... but went went rouge and started raging against anyone who stood in his way.

Sun and Moon were tasked to stop him, but got too damaged in the process. At the very least they managed to damage Eclipse enough that he went into a longass dormancy...

Until a couple centuries later, when you, a dumbass, shows up and somehow revive him. Maybe you're a futuristic mechanic who happens to love experimenting with ancient technology. Maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who can say? I sure can't.

Was kinda thinking you encountered Sun first and revived him without realizing it, so he'd eventually come and team up w/ you. Not sure about Moon.

Oh and the ribbons on their arms are like army crests. Eclipse either has the same ones as Sun and Moon bc he fought in the same army or he took them after defeating them (or at least thinking he did)

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sapphosewrites · 6 days

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top 10 ds9 fan fics you've written, ranked?

Oooh, tough question, friend! I don't even know what the criteria for this would be, because the most AO3 popular ones are not always my favorites... Okay, you know what, here we go. I'm just going to go for it and make some decisions. I'm giving myself a rule, though, that I can only chose one from a series, so I'm not just listing everything in the Terok Nor AU. I'll also try to hit different kinds of fics I've written.

10.) After the End of the World: A Survey of Seminal Works of Cardassian Post-Apocalyptic Literature from cross-posted to tumblr. 533 words, "An examination of the Cardassian post-apocalyptic literary genre before and after the Dominion War." This isn't my most popular or my best written but it's one of my favorites; I like in-world diegetic texts and worldbuilding and I'm obsessed with the idea of post-canon Cardassia as post-apocalypse.

9.) Never Have I Ever from The Game Is Afoot, 1,294 words, T, "Julian introduces Garak to the human game never have I ever." This was fun to write and is fun to reread every time! I often spend a lot of fic space on angst and identity and all the reasons why it's a bad idea for Julian and Garak to get together, but in this one we just get to spend time seeing them be clever and enjoy each other's company.

8.) Tribbles, Togetherness, and the Great River, 1,742 words, G, "In their shared quarters, Nog and Jake discuss tribbles, pets, and telling their families about their relationship." This is my only full standalone Jake/Nog fic, and it's another that was a pleasure to write and still makes me smile. It's fun to spend a sweet moment with two young people figuring out how they fit together.

7.) Del Floria's Tailor Shop, 336 words, also known as the space tumblr one. I think this is possibly the funniest thing I've ever written.

6.) Push Me Til I Break, 4,653 words, M, also known as the one where Garak interrogates Julian, and the role play goes wrong. Maybe the most tense thing I've ever written, and really leans into the ways in which two deeply hurting people can choose to hurt or hold.

5.) Growth, 45,843 words, T, "Julian and Garak grapple with their pasts and their feelings for each other at the end of the series." My super long post-canon Cardassia fic, back when I had no idea how to string a multi-chapter idea together. There's a lot I would change if I wrote this now (I've grown as a writer in many ways, including my ability to have scene transitions), but some of the conversations and moments in here are still absolute favorites of mine, particularly around ideas of self-forgiveness, the clash between values and actions, and the importance of choice.

4.) Predetermination, 22,200 words, T, Mirror Bashir arrives at the station and suddenly the nature/nurture debate has never had higher stakes. This is one of the places I think I've been most successful in using sci fi to ask big questions that hopefully resonate in the modern day, about who we are and how we become. Also, the ending takes inspiration from one of my favorite TNG episodes, and that was cool too.

3.) Especially the Lies, 13,019 words, T, "Something is going on with Garak, and no one knows what, except for possibly Julian Bashir." This is my only archive-warning-applied fic and it was really important to me to tell a story about care, for a character who I think doesn't believe he's allowed to have any, in a real world circumstance that too often people have to go through alone.

2.) Necessary Storms, 15,149 words, T, Julian and Starfleet Spouse Garak get entangled in Trill politics. I feel like this is one of the things I've written that most feels like it could be an episode of Star Trek, and is also a fairly unsubtle (though initially unintentional) way to explore populism, demagoguery, resource distribution, and revolt at a very particular moment in national politics with the aesthetic distance that sci fi offers.

1.) Old Friends: An Enigma Tale from Terok Nor AU. I'm exceedingly proud of this whole series, which started as just "what can I do with the idea of dabo boy Julian" and has turned into a sweeping journey covering how Terok Nor becomes Deep Space 9. This most recent installment is perhaps not indicative of the series as a whole, but it was a lot of fun to write and is also a dip into my other favorite genre aside from sci fi (murder mystery).

#my writing #confess nothing is statistically my most popular fic but i don't think it's my most interesting #almost made the list are made to measure and son of tain #also none of my fairy tale things are on here but i think i have lots of interesting ideas in those as well #if you have a fic that is your personal top of what i've written i'd love to hear about it!

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nie7027 · 1 month

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Related to the all persona au I have that I have briefly mentioned before...

I've been thinking about my headcanon of how persona users become stronger/more powerful the longer they have had their powers and how that coupled with my headcanon about how the P1 and P2 casts are leagues more powerful than the neo persona casts (a single person from P1 or P2 would be able to take the the whole SEES or the Investigation or the Phantom Thieves on their own) because unlike the neo persona casts they received their powers directly from Philemon while the neo casts received it from the remnants of Philemon's power that Igor has means the P1 cast HAS to be introduced before the P2 casts in my all persona au.

Because the P1 cast being the ones to receive their powers first (and from Philemon) are the most powerful of them but they are also the ones who have been able to grow up accustomed to that power, to learn to control it as it develops and be aware of the huge responsability of it whereas the P2 cast didnt have that chance.

They are time bombs.

They have a huge amount of power they don't know how to control, they never got to learn how. Due to their circumstances they aren't even aware of the great power they have. They have no memories of that.

And if the memories ever return they would cause such an emotional overload that it would leave the person completely unstable. If only for a few minutes.

A few minutes too much considering the great amount of power they are unaware they have.

Decades of power they never learned to control accumulated along with mental unstability... That's an extremely dangerous combination

They are time bombs only someone from the P1 cast would be able to manage, not someone from P3/P4/P5 (maybe Minato/Minako but they are... you know.... Dead....speaking of Ryoji would also definitely be able to take them on but yeah he's unavailable too)

Even someone like the Real Tatsuya who actually got to grew up using his power isn't free of that because yeah he has decades of experience using his power but he also was trapped in a post apocalyptic dimension filled with shadows.

He's traumatized.

He lived for decades in a permanent high stress environment with next to no support (or none at all if he lost Katsuya at some point which is most likely the way im going) and accustomed to using his power without any constraint (there's only shadows around him, there's no need to care if he goes over the top and destroys everything in his path).

Upon returning to this side Tatsuya will be unaccustomed to living in a society, to having to restrain his power. And he will be in another highly stressing environment except completely different from what's he's used to because all will come from his head. His trauma.

He will hear a dog bark(having no heard anything but shadows for years) and he will go completely nuke over it in mere seconds launching super powerful attacks before he can even realize what hes doing. Just pure instinct and reflex he had to forge to survive the way he lived but that it's no longer useful to him here, back in the normal world.

He will need a therapist.

And Maki will be perfect for the job.

Not only is she a psychologist and a persona user who received her power directly from Philemon even before Tatsuya(so actually more powerful than him, if not one of the most powerful even in her own group) but she's also someone close to Tatsuya. Someone he knew and considered a friend.

Maki would know this and probably prepared for years for this (never losing hope that she would someday help the kids she couldn't help when she was younger).

She would appoint herself as Tatsuyas therapist the moment he steps back into our world, already applying all the psychology techniques she knows to help Tatsuya start processing his trauma way before Tatsuya or anyone else even realizes what she's doing.

It also fits nicely in my au because she's already also Akechis therapist which gives me an excuse to give them something in common, something that would help them get to know each other and bond over.

I imagine either Akechi or Tatsuyas exiting Maki's temporal office in the Shadows ops headquarters just as the other is arriving for their respective session and making small talk while Maki gets ready to receive the other.

Or them talking/complaining about the exercises Maki has ordered them to do and how much they frustrate them.

Just. I love when the au builds on its own

#persona 5 #persona 2 #persona 1 #tatsuya suou #goro akechi #p5 #p2 #p1 #i really need to come up with a tag for this au #maki sonomura #nie's writing

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plague-of-insomnia · 1 month

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Sebardagni Headcanon/AU Idea #001 - Post-Apocalyptic Sickfic AU

It’s no secret the last 7 months or so have not been great for me, and I haven’t been able to write for various reasons, since my health has been bad.

I’m hoping that the second half of 2024 will show some improvement but in the time being I’ve been trying to imagine my fave trio: Sebardagni in various sickfic scenarios

Like I had one in mind that’s not well formulated bc my brain is not working well enough for more than vague shapes of ideas, but it’s post-apocalyptic.

I don’t like that genre generally because as a chronically ill disabled person, I know how absolutely fucked I would be if society collapsed.

However, one of my fave independent novels I ever read featured this concept, and one of the characters had a chronic lung disease so not having regular access to medicine made his life much harder, and put enormous strain on his husband and family.

So I imagined a scenario in which Sebastian, Agni, and Bard have settled in a remote mountain cabin because it’s removed from some of the dangers of the cities, the air is cleaner for Sebastian to breathe a little easier, and there is plenty of food and resources.

But the problem is that they really should move on, but they can’t travel, not with Sebastian sick, and they’re running out of places to scavenge for medicine. One of them always has to stay behind with Sebastian, so only one can go out at a time.

Bard had been increasingly having to go away for days or even weeks at a stretch, going farther and farther from their home base in an attempt to find medicine for Sebastian and other supplies they can’t make or grow themselves.

It makes Sebastian guilty and anxious that one day Bard won’t come back and it’ll be his fault, and it frustrates him that he can’t help more, or that his partners have to sacrifice so much for him. More than once he’s told them to leave him behind, but they both insist they’d rather die with him than abandon him.

I imagined a particular scene where Sebastian’s health has taken a sharp downturn while Agni has been waiting for Bard to return, and it’s getting to be long enough he’s worried maybe this will be the day Bard never comes home.

But he does, all smiles. He didn’t find medicine, at least not what they’d hoped to find, but he did find a treasure trove of things that were under a collapsed shelf in an asian market a few towns over.

Matcha powder, and a lot of it.

Matcha is highly caffeinated, and it’s related to another molecule that’s often used to treat asthma and other lung conditions, because it helps open the airways. Drinking a lot of caffeine can thus help your breathing a little bit. It’s not medicine, but it definitely helps in a pinch.

I imagine Agni grows what he can for Sebastian, various herbs and plants like marijuana that can help him, and despite the world ending and the challenges of their new lives, ultimately they’re happy.

I think it could be a really lovely story, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to write it.

#black butler #黒執事 #sebardagni #sebastian michaelis #bardroy #agni #bard #kuro au inspo #poi og #post apocalyptic au #sickfic #it sounds very fluffy but ofc there would be plenty of angst and whump #i know i am addicted to human sebastian i can’t help it #my headcanons

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weirdbeancurd · 3 months

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Attempted Apologies- ULTRAKILL Fanfic

Gabe gets the shit beat outta him. (but don't worry its kinda funny)

Takes place in an AU where the prime souls live, and Gabriel and V1 live on the surface as apocalyptic roommates. (oh my god they were roommates)

Summary: Gabriel attempts (key word: attempts) to apologize to Minos and Sisyphus for their executions, but it doesn't go as well as he had hoped. Chapter 1 out of 2.

Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. It certainly didn't seem like it as he traversed the endless winding halls, a labyrinth of books and furniture. Gabriel's anxiety was through the roof, and no level of self soothing was helping calm his nerves. Yet he had good reason to worry; his life was on the line, and he would very much like to keep his newfound mortality. Gabriel had left his swords and armor at their shared base with V1, hoping to show the two he meant no harm. Looking back, it was a stupid idea. A profoundly stupid idea. But tucked deep within the recesses of his mind, a part of him hoped they'd smite him on the spot, contradicting his yearn for survival.

He'd tortured, abandoned and murdered so many; Gabriel wouldn't fault anyone for hating him, especially his victims. And among those victims, he found himself ruminating over 2 notable executions: the killing of the kings.

Sisyphus put up a good fight, but was spared no mercy, liberating his head from his neck in one swift chop. He died with a smile on his face. While notoriously violent when need be, he was a just ruler that cared for his people. His existence was a morale boost in and of itself. Gabriel remembers the husk's wailing screams, their leader's lifeless body on the floor. It might’ve been for the best if the insurrection succeeded. He'd hate to face his post-mortem wrath.

Minos, on the other hand, was honorable beyond belief, his kindness knowing no bounds. His crown was filled with flowers gifted by the very people he so cherished. Out of everyone, he deserved his fate the least. Forced to watch his once prosperous city be demolished by his own hand and struck down under the false pretense of peaceful negotiation. It was cowardice. Gabriel doesn't know what'd be worse, Minos forgiving him, or the king crushing his skull. At least he wouldn't have to suffer the guilt of his actions if his head was caved in.

Guilt and regret was why he was here, after all, and he was dreading it. Gabriel heard from the machine that the two kings reformed as prime souls, freed from their respective prisons. It left them alive, if only barely, hoping it could get more blood from them later on. When V1 first told him, Gabriel nearly screamed in frustration. They sealed those two away for a reason! They might destroy heaven or hunt him down with (admittedly rightful) vengeance! Or… he could apologize and right his wrongs. He was far from redemption, but regret gnawed at his very being, and for good reason. Maybe releasing the prime souls was a blessing in disguise.

Gabriel ventured to the lust layer with shaking hands. If the two kings were still standing, they'd meet at Minos's castle. They were close friends in life despite their vastly different ideologies, and the kingdom Minos built was still perfectly habitable. The city was breathtakingly beautiful, the violet skies bleeding into every surface, pinks and blues painting the town. He silently treaded the empty roads, buildings lining every street. Gabriel made the mistake of peeking in one of the houses out of curiosity. He found two skeletons hugging one another on the bed, their eternal embrace on display for all to see, hands lovingly intertwined. He might've thrown up.

It took a while for him to get to the castle, purposefully stalling his entrance by pacing the streets. Eventually, he couldn't stand the silence and approached the castle stairs. The interior was just as stunning as the exterior, if not a bit repetitive, hence him getting lost, where he is now. Gabriel wanders for what seems like hours, whether it be from procrastination or the confusing, forking hallways, he does not know. Finally, he hears a voice: a very familiar one. They sounded like they were laughing, gruff yet jovial. Sisyphus. Another voice responded with clear amusement. Their tone was calm but regal. That must be Minos. His heart clenched in dread. What if they kill him before he gets to apologize? Would they even hear him out? Pushing his anxieties aside, he raised a quaking fist to the door and knocked thrice.

The conversation turned into uncomfortable silence. They knew everyone else in hell was dead, apart from him and the machine. V1 never knocks, so the kings knew only one person could be at the door.

"...If you are who I think you are, you may enter. But be warned, I cannot guarantee you will leave here alive." Sisyphus drawls. His voice shakes the very foundation of the castle.

That wasn't exactly the warm welcome he was hoping for, but it will have to do (it's not like he deserved one, anyways). Steeling himself and prepared for anything, Gabriel presses his hands against the double doors and pushes. What he saw left him in shock.

He was greeted with the sight of a modest stairway leading up to two thrones, a long dining table to his right. One of the thrones looked like it was haphazardly dragged over and placed next to the other. But what really caught his eye was the figures those thrones belonged to. The man sitting on his left was glowing a pale white color, his see-through skin putting his circulatory system out for display. Gabriel's heart sank when he recognized the crown atop their head: Minos. The king was left with a gaping hole where his face was, an unmistakable reminder of when Gabriel's sword pierced his skull. His guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.

The second man was similarly transparent, but the shining star that replaced their head glowed with such ferocity that he could barely make out their facial features. The missing head made it obvious who he laid his eyes upon: Sisyphus. Unlike Minos, he stood with barely restrained fury, likely for the other king's sake. While Minos was taller than he remembered, Sisyphus towered over both of them. A bolt of fear struck through Gabriel's body.

"Come to gloat, have you? Ever so confident, you have the audacity to face us unarmed." Sisyphus bellows. Minos stares in stern silence, letting Sisyphus do the talking for him.

"Though we have grown in power, we grant you no mercy, as you have done to us.” He cracks his knuckles. “Come forth, filth, and die."

Like the obedient weapon he is, Gabriel does what he's told and approaches the two kings. Sisyphus readies his fists; Minos finally stands from his throne. Gabriel stares back at the two; his judges, jury and executioners. As he reaches the stairs, the kings prepare a fighting stance, and Gabriel, he-

-he kneels before them.

Baffled, Minos lowers his hands. Sisyphus has confusion written on his face but does not relax in the slightest. Wary, yet hopeful, they listen for what he has to say.

"...I'm sorry. For your executions, for your people, for everything and everyone I've ruined. I know words will never be enough to redeem myself, nor undo my wrongs, but I hope it brings you peace to know I deeply regret my actions."

The two share a suspicious glance. Slowly, Sisyphus turns back to him, giving a nod as if to say, "go on."

"The torment you've faced is unjust. You were just trying to help your denizens thrive, and heaven and I deemed it an offense worthy of death." His voice wavered now and then, but he willed himself to continue.

"It is with shame I say I willingly carried out their word. Now, far too late, I realize it was wrong."

Daring to meet their gazes, he raises his head. Minos's expression is hard to read due to the gaping hole where his face should be, but his posture seems more relaxed. Sisyphus had finally loosened his stance, standing deep in contemplation. Sweat drips from Gabriel's brow as the two silently scrutinize him. His knees feel like they're going to give out.

After what feels like eons, Sisyphus descends the stairs, approaching with an uncharacteristically kind smile. He says nothing, but Gabriel knows he can see him trembling. The fallen angel rises to his feet with wobbly legs, his height barely reaching Sisyphus's torso.

"What an interesting turn of events," Sisyphus says. “I’m tempted to say you’ve changed, Gabriel.”

The king leans in close to whisper in his ear, so close that he can feel the heat radiating off of him.

"But it's too bad you didn't spare us when you were given the chance."

Everything happens so quickly. Sisyphus's expression turns to one of disgust, grabbing Gabriel by the neck and tossing him across the dining table. He's sent careening towards the fireplace, his body landing on utensils and plates, sending silverware flying from the force of the impact. By the time he rolled to a stop at the end of the table, he was deeply battered, with aching joints and bruised skin. Yeah, leaving his armor behind was a very stupid idea. Gabriel coughs, a hand cupping his neck to soothe the pain. His eyes flit around the room in a desperate frenzy.

In his panic, he spots Minos on the sidelines, watching on with contempt. His crossed arms say he won't help Gabriel in the slightest.

Fuck. Nononono.

Minos's forgiveness was integral to Gabriel getting out alive. Even if Sisyphus still had his qualms, Minos would step in, ever the diplomat. But now, nothing and no one will protect him from Sisyphus's wrath.

"O' Gabriel. Now dawns thy reckoning."

Gabriel holds out his hand, a paltry attempt at shielding himself. Through sputtering breaths, he manages to plead, "I-I understand you both are rightfully irate, but-"

"You understand nothing."

Sisyphus advances at blinding speeds. He only manages to scramble backwards a couple feet before a palm strikes his chest, pinning him to the table. Gabriel frantically tries to pry his hands away. However, his white-knuckling is futile, for Sisyphus's strength dwarfs his own. He can barely breathe, lungs struggling to make enough room for air, ribs cracking under the pressure. Sisyphus ignores the snapping of his bones, his eyes portraying perfect hatred.

"You took everything from us!" He shouts.

"I know! And I know I cannot erase my sins, like the father once told us! But please, spare my life."

"So you've discovered the father's flaws. I'd congratulate you, if I wasn't about to destroy the very essence of your being."

“Wait-”

The hand on his chest draws back, only allowing for a moment of respite. Sisyphus’s hand shoots out, grabbing for him. Gabriel evades him, if only barely, lunging across the table. His wings beat the air and propel him towards the door; he’s almost there, if he can just reach the exit maybe-

His hope is shattered by a violent tug at his shoulder. Sisyphus has his wing in a vice grip and he can feel its delicate bones snap like twigs. Gabriel screams as his momentum carries him forward but is held back by the king’s firm hold. Something definitely just dislocated. As if it can’t get any worse, Sisyphus throws him to the ground, which isn’t doing any favors for his broken wing. He lands with a sickening thud. Gabriel clambers away while cradling his cracked ribs, keeping one wing tucked close to his body as every little movement sends pain shooting through his shoulder. His other wing is clumsily flailing around, unable to properly balance on its own.

“P-Please, don’t.” He begs.

“Mercy is reserved for the innocent.” Sisyphus growls.

Gabriel looks to Minos for help, spotting him at the window. The king is staring blankly at his desolate city, seemingly unaware of the fight going on behind him, yet he can tell from his tense stance that Minos knows; he’s just ignoring them. Despite being a known pacifist, that doesn’t mean he won’t allow another to do the dirty work for him. Especially for filth like him.

Gabriel is thrown back into the battle as Sisyphus grabs him by the throat and lifts him off the ground. His toes reach for the floor but miss it by a mile, the king dangling him effortlessly from his hand. He feels his windpipe being crushed, lungs burning like they've been charred. No matter how hard he struggles, he can't escape. This is it. This is how he dies: slaughtered at the hands of a man whose head once laid at his feet. Maybe he deserves this. What will the machine think? Will it go looking for him? Would it even care?

"I'd tell you to say your prayers, but there is no god to hear your pleas." Sisyphus chuckles. "Send my regards to the council then."

Oh, how Gabriel wishes he could laugh. How ironic. In a rare show of generosity, the man loosens his grip just a tad to let him wheeze out his final words.

"I…I do not know where angels go when they die, but I hope to see them in hell." He manages a single huff of laughter. Just out of spite. His eyes slip close, ready for his due reward of death, and waits. And waits…and waits. But retribution never comes. Cautiously, Gabriel opens his eyes.

He's met with the sight of his captor, utterly bewildered. It appears Minos is equally interested in his words, having moved towards their (very one-sided) fight. Air rushes to his lungs as the hand around his throat drops him, immediately gasping for breath. Stars are dancing in his peripherals and blood rushes to his head so quickly he can practically hear his heartbeat.

"Explain. Now." Sisyphus demands. Gabriel tries his best to reply, but he can't stop coughing. Regardless, Sisyphus requires an answer.

"SPEAK!"

"Wha-"

"THE COUNCIL. WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM."

"I killed them, alright!"

His labored panting is the only sound that fills the silence. The two kings have been rendered mute.

"They're…they're dead. All of them." He whispers.

Brushing the metaphorical dust off his vocal chords, Minos speaks up.

"...But what for?"

They grant him a moment to catch his breath. Meanwhile, he judges their expressions. Sisyphus has gone silent, the gears turning in his head, still glaring with scrutiny. Unsurprisingly, Minos is more difficult to read, but he seems more curious than anything. Schooching to slump against the wall, he lies broken and beaten. He stares at the rafters above, drearily explaining what happened in heaven. He's unsure if his incoherent warbling even gets through to them, but he tries. The fallen angel describes his run in with the machine and the unjust theft of his light. He rambles about the council's misgivings for the father and the only way he knew how to dethrone them with the little time he had left. Between his words, sisyphus takes a seat at the dining table, facing away from them. With an elbow propped up on his knee, a fist supporting his head, he resembles the pose of a cerberus. Minos nods along to show he's listening. Eventually, Gabriel wraps up his tale, eyes shut in complete exhaustion.

"...and I don't regret it. Not one bit."

There's a beat of silence before Minos replies.

"How do we know thou art truthful?"

"Without the father’s light, I cannot teleport. If I was still immortal, don't you think I'd have left by now?" He can't help the bit of sass that comes out of his mouth. Must be the adrenaline high.

"...Thou hast merit."

Sisyphus stands suddenly, nearly knocking over his chair and causing Gabriel to flinch. The movement makes his injuries absolutely blossom with agony. He looms over the former angel as his shadow encompasses his own.

"Let me make this clear," his tone is much more measured than before. "I do not forgive you. Nor will I ever."

He crumbles under Sisyphus's gaze.

"But, you've shown much growth from our last…escapade. You are a rebel exhumed, and for that, I can respect."

"I never believed mine eyes would witness a day of justice dawn. Though it was by thy hand, it seems the 'holy' council has met retribution." Sisyphus hums in agreement.

Oh. They were thanking him. Gabriel felt hardly worthy of praise, but if it meant getting out alive, he would gladly play the part of a hero. Relief washed over him in waves, finally settling his nerves. His head felt strangely light.

"I understand your resentment towards me. My goal was not to be forgiven, just to apologize.” Odd. His arms are numb. “Your gratitude for ending the council’s reign is not needed, for their demise is a reward in and of itself.”

Gabriel wrenches himself up to his feet, having to use the wall for support. He takes a single step-

-and promptly passes out. Ah. That would be the adrenaline crash.

“...”

“Have thou perished?”

“...Minos, how do you feel about digging a shallow grave?”

Said man elbows Sisyphus in the side.

(Don't worry, Gabe's not actually dead, this is chapter 1 out of 2)

Still kinda in beta, so don't be surprised if I change this fic around a bit, lol.

Feedback and comments are always welcome! :D

#ultrakill #minos prime #sisyphus prime #gabriel ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #ultrakill fanfic #whump #Sisyphus: *beating the shit out of Gabriel*#Minos: Yall hear sumn?

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missterious-figure · 2 months

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One Hell of a Trip au! Yet another new au.

This isn't a SAMS au! The Bloodmoon and Lunar in this au are heavily influenced by the ones in SAMS.

Design doodles above! (They may change in the future)

This au takes place in a post-apocalyptic setting. (Not sure what the cause is though.) Notes: long be for the apocalypse, humans had made animatronics very advanced. They had the ability to eat and were allowed to be out in public all by themselves. They could also be hired at common work places.

Eclipse and his gang travel from place to place, scavenging for useful items. They are especially interested when they find a Fazco Pizzaplex. They could find old parts to fix themselves or another animatronic to add to their group. So far, they haven't had any luck finding others besides themselves. The group hadn't seen any humans at all since they've been on their journey. Not even one wandering around in this seemingly empty world.

The group consists of seven animatronics. Eclipse, Sun, Moon, Black-out, Bloodmoon, Lunar, Prism. They are all different versions of the same model. They treat each other like brothers, and love to play and tease.

Eclipse is the non-appointed leader of the group. He was the one who started it, actually. He's pretty serious and can sometimes be a stick in the mud. Playing games with his brothers does make him happy, though. He loves each member and is quite protective of them. Maybe a little to protective at times... He is the one in charge of supplies. He's also the one everybody else comes to when they have problems.

Moon, along with Sun, were the first two Eclipse found. They had worked in the daycare for a small Pizzaplex. Moon's a calm and laid back fellow. He can get snippy if he needs to rein the others in. He can be a big tease, even to Eclipse. But he knows when it's the time to stop. He likes to be independent and sometimes doesn't ask for help when he needs it

Sun is... energetic to say the least. He is always trying to be a positive thinker, but can easily become a massive worry-wort over simple things. Still, he is sweet to his brothers and likes making them laugh and smile. He's definitely one of the most outgoing and friendly of the group. He's always asking what he can do to help. Sun likes to copy Moon's outfits for some reason.

Bloodmoon is definitely the wildcard of the group. He has erratic mood changes that vary from "feral cat" to "lazy puppy". He's very blunt and rude most of the time. He's the one with most violent tendencies. Bloodmoon gets into alot of trouble. It may seem like he doesn't, but he really loves his brothers, he just has... interesting ways of showing it. It could be a random hug one moment and biting your face the next. He and Prism have a hard time getting along.

Lunar is seen as the baby brother. Optimistic and innocent, it makes sense why they view him this way. He's bright, cutesy, and outgoing. He loves squishmellows and bean bags. Lunar has the attention span of a child and can easily get bored and start bothering his brothers. He never goes anywhere with out his reindeer squishmellow, Spigot.

Black-out is a stand-off-ish guy and hardly ever speaks. He uses physical gestures to show his love for his brothers. Like hugs, rubbing his hand on their backs or holding hands. He often accidentally jump-scares his brothers because he doesn't make any noise when he approaches. He seemingly "appears out of nowhere". He also loves to play wrestle with Bloodmoon.

Prism is *mostly* soft-spoken and rather polite. He's sweet and kind to most of those around him. He used work at some ridiculously high-end restaurant before the apocalypse. He preserved his "fanciness" from working at the restaurant and tries to apply it to his life. He loves reading fashion magazines and scavenging for new clothes. He hates it when he gets dirty. It causes him to stress out. He is by far the cleanest of the group.

One day Eclipse finds you, a human, in an abandoned Pizzaplex. You had worked there as a mechanic and were now searching for food. Eclipse offers you to come with him back to his camp. At first you're skeptical, but after he mentions food, you tag along. You meet the rest of the gang and decide to stay with them. You can be of use to them because you know how to fix them. You've been lonely for so long. Their company is reassuring. So you travel around with them, getting to know them better, looking for other humans, and getting into some shenanigans. They all seem to really like you. Maybe more then you know. You start developing feelings, ones you're not to sure you should be feeling...

I will answer any questions about this au!

#dca au #fnaf dca #dca sun #dca moon #dca oc #dca bloodmoon #dca lunar #One hell of a trip au

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thekristen999 · 3 months

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Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @exhuastedpigeon Thank you!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I set-up the tone of the story right at the get-go, at least, I think I do. I'm not best at analyzing my own words :)

All Buddie.

A Light in the Darkness (one-shot, just vibes, post-apocalyptic)

His coordination is off; fat-feeling fingers fumbling with his turn-out coat, the snaps refusing to work. Exhausted, Eddie gives up wrestling with the damn things, yanking at the bottom until all the snaps come undone like the rest of him.

Follow You Into The Dark (one-shot, hurt/comfort, suspense,)

The moment the alarm blared, all the hair along the back of Eddie’s neck stood on end. He didn’t need to check his watch. It was after midnight, maybe one or two in the morning. It was always around the same time. He’d bet a month’s paycheck this would be a three-alarm fire at an abandoned building under suspicious circumstances.

Cutting The Ties That Bind (multi-chapter, mafia AU,)

It’d been three days since the brakes on his car had gone out. There was an active factory recall regarding the master cylinder on the same make and model Buck owned, but his uncle didn’t believe in coincidences. So, Buck suffered the indignity of being chauffeured in the back of a giant SUV like a teenager.

We All Fall Down (one-shot, missing scenes, post 6.18)

Sounds filtered through his muddled brain. Radio static. Heavy breathing. Metal creaking—no groaning. Or was that him? Was he groaning? Why was he—

Tick...Tick...Boom (one-shot, hurt/comfort)

It was a good day when all their calls ended in success. An automobile accident and an incident involving a large sinkhole resolved with only minor injuries. If they took 10th street back to the firehouse, then his and Eddie’s shift would end, and they could find some alone time.

We’ve Got Fun & Games (one-shot, humor, Amazing Race)

Giddiness ran through Buck’s veins. He stretched his arms, his hamstrings, even his calves.

Eddie, on the other hand, leaned against a tree wearing a lazy smile like he was waiting on a weather report.

Not Today (one-shot, backstory)

The first time Eddie encountered death was at his Tía Lula’s bedside. He held her limp hand, whispering thanks for all the times they baked cookies together, for the days spent outside in her lazy hammock, or playing with her cats.

bro·ken (multi-chapter, S3 AU, diff first meeting)

The last place in the world Buck wanted to be was in one of the worst neighborhoods in the middle of the warehouse district. But his rent was due in a couple of weeks and his savings account was already depleted. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

The Shape Of Water (one-shot, backstory, hurt/comfort)

Pennsylvania was made up of trees and mountains. Every day was just another shade of gray.

We're In This Together Now (one-shot, hurt/comfort)

Eddie stared out through the window of the fire truck counting the number of billboards rushing past. Occasionally, he risked a glance in Buck’s direction, confirming that Buck was also staring out a window. Both trying to ignore the other.

no pressure tagging: @shortsighted-owl @shyaudacity @ci5mates @fleurdebeton @mellaithwen @andavs @renecdote @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @the-likesofus @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @sherlockcrossing @diazsdimples @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life

#buddie #first lines writing meme #evan buckley #eddie diaz #kristen999writes

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punkshort · 9 months

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Chapter warnings: angst, smut, language, violence

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

You were able to sneak out of the QZ fairly easily, the soldiers were preoccupied with new truckloads of survivors, and they were running around trying to create more sleeping accommodations in classrooms and hallways. Joel led you alongside the school and into the cover of a small forest before anybody could question you. You didn’t speak or slow down until you were about 2 miles away from the school, still primarily surrounded by trees, but they were thinning out, revealing shops and roads in the distance.

“Joel, stop, let’s rest for a few minutes, please,” you panted, struggling to keep up with his long gait on the uneven terrain.

Surprised to hear your voice, he turned to look over his shoulder at you. He had been in such a trance to lead you both away from the school that he wasn’t even sure what direction you were headed. He nodded in agreement. He was tired and hot, still in the same work clothes from Friday.

“Yeah, let’s go sit down, looks quiet here.” Joel motioned to a big, flat rock nearby, and the two of you sat down on it, setting your purse and supplies down and sipping on the water bottles you were grateful you had grabbed before leaving the QZ. You sat next to each other in silence, catching your breath and looking around at the nature surrounding you.

“What are we doing, Joel?” you asked him quietly. You were all too fully aware you were following this man blindly into a world full of danger. Just a week ago, you had such a different relationship with him, one that was heading in a direction that made you feel excited and hopeful. You were still reeling from the shock of his harsh words on his birthday, unable to fully process what happened that day in his office. Still, you had no idea what caused him to run out of the building after you, what he wanted to say, but you hated to admit that you were grateful. Who knows where you would be if Joel hadn’t yelled at you, making you quit and leave the building. Who knows where you would be right now if you were alone when those soldiers started shooting. In some twisted way, you owed Joel your life. He was all you had now, you had to trust him.

“Well, I suppose we try to find your family,” Joel said, leaning back to lay flat on the rock and closed his eyes as he continued. “At least, we gotta get out of this city, it’s not safe. That guy at the QZ told me this infection is all over, but maybe it ain’t as bad in other places.”

“What else did he say to you?” you asked, turning to look down at him now. His eyes were still closed, his face looked relaxed but the bags under his eyes reminded you he was up early this morning.

Joel paused for a moment. He knew what you were asking, but he wasn’t sure how to tell you. He kept his eyes shut when he finally spoke.

"He told me bad stuff was happenin’ to women there, women who were alone.”

Your suspicions were right. He stood guard over you while you slept, what else could it have been? You sighed, looking down at the half empty water bottle in your hands. Joel has been saving you over and over again for the past 5 days while you were still hung up on some stupid argument. It all felt so trivial now, when the focus was simply survival.

You reached your hand out and lightly squeezed his own, trying to thank him when words didn’t seem like enough. He opened his eyes now and looked at you staring at your coupled hands, giving your hand a light squeeze in return.

"What now?" you asked, letting his hand go. Joel sighed and sat back upright.

"Well, we gotta get some supplies. Couple of backpacks, some food, clothes, all that. I’m thinkin’ we gotta leave on foot, a car would be too loud, FEDRA will stop us. We can try to make it back to my place in the city for some stuff, but it’s far, maybe 10 minutes from the office.”

Something Joel said gave you an idea.

"I have backpacks! At my apartment, hiking backpacks, two of them. And some other things. My place is further out, it probably won’t take us too long, I live kind of far from work… lived,” you corrected yourself, frowning, “I just can’t tell where we are, maybe if we can get to those stores over there, we can see what street that is.”

Joel nodded. “Alright, good, you ready to go?”

You jumped off the rock and picked up your purse, stuffed with the items from the QZ, and both headed in the direction of the strip mall. You emerged from the thinning forest to find a playground with a baseball diamond and a soccer field. As you cautiously made your way through the open field, Joel stopped at the baseball diamond to grab you each a bat from a pile left on home plate. You took it from his outstretched hand, the thought of weapons to defend yourselves having not even crossed your mind yet. You were not adapting to this disaster as quickly as you would like. Joel had been the one to find shelter, the one who recognized when an area was unsafe, the one who formulated a plan. You scolded yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings... this was life or death. At least you had Justin’s old camping supplies still housed in your tiny apartment, that was useful. You just had to get there in one piece.

It took half the day to walk from the strip mall to your apartment building, taking extra time to be quiet and go unseen. Once you reentered the city, you could see Joel tense up as he gripped his baseball bat tightly by his side. Your building was not too far into the city limits, and you managed to make it there without being spotted.

Joel gently closed the lobby door behind you, turning around to see the room was empty, save for a few abandoned duffel bags and some trash. You led him towards the stairwell door, closing it quietly, listening for any movement above before slowly beginning your ascent.

“What floor?” Joel whispered behind you.

“Two,” you answered just as quietly, “but I am on the other end of the hall.”

“You’re on the second floor? D’you know how dangerous that is? Anyone could climb up and break in.”

You paused before opening the door marked with a big number 2, turning to look at Joel incredulously as he finished his climb up the stairs.

"There’s monsters running around eating people and you’re lecturing me about what floor my apartment is on?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

He looked at you for a moment, considering your words, and smirked.

"Yeah, well, when you put it like that," he said.

You knew it was a serious situation and people were dying. Hell, you could die at any moment. But you allowed a smile to spread across your face, only barely holding back a laugh. Joel’s smirk turned into a bigger smile at the sight of yours, hiding a small chuckle. You rolled your eyes, still grinning, and reached out to open the door before he stopped you.

"Let me go first,” he said, moving in front of you with his bat at the ready.

He pushed the door open just enough so he could see down the hall. It was empty, but there were several apartment doors that were either cracked or wide open. He listened intently for any movement that might indicate you weren’t alone. When he was satisfied, he opened the door wider, allowing you both to squeeze through and then softly closed the door. Without speaking, you pointed down the hall towards the right side, and with your fingers you held up a 2, 2, and 3, telling him which one was yours. He nodded in understanding and led the way slowly down the long hallway.

Joel stopped before every open door and peeked inside each apartment before moving down to the next one, being extra cautious of any infected. Neither of you had seen one up close yet, you had no idea what to expect, but you heard them when you were running down the street. They sounded like feral animals the way they screamed and snarled as they attacked. You shuddered at the thought, but at least you would hear them coming.

Joel paused when he heard someone walking, and then heard a repeated thudding sound. You both froze in place, listening and trying to locate the source. It sounded like it was coming from the floor above you, so you both continued until you reached the door that read 223. You dug into your purse and pulled out your keys, grateful to find that the door was still locked. Again, Joel insisted on sticking his head in first and clearing the place before you entered, gently shutting and locking the door behind you.

You looked around your small apartment, everything left exactly as it was Friday morning. You had a small loveseat and an accent chair surrounding your TV in the living room, behind the loveseat was your equally small kitchen with a table for two. Your bedroom door was off the kitchen, and the bathroom had a door right where you had walked in but was also connected to your bedroom through a second door. It was very small, but you made it work, you had just been so happy to have your own space.

Joel looked around thoughtfully. These were not the circumstances in which he had hoped to see your place for the first time. You chewed your lip as he looked around your apartment, admiring your framed photos and your knick-knacks. He looked so big and out of place amongst your modest apartment, filled with secondhand furniture and mementos from your past. You reached down to pick up the backpack you had tripped over on Friday morning, setting it up against the wall while you opened the extremely small accordion door that gave way to a tiny coat closet. You reached inside and grabbed the second backpack, setting it next to the first, and lastly picked up the two tightly rolled up sleeping bags that were never reattached to the packs.

He turned and saw the supplies against the wall, excitedly walking over to open one up and examine it more closely.

"I didn’t realize you liked camping, we can really use most of this," he said, his focus still on opening up the various pockets on the backpacks.

You paused a moment, not sure if you should tell him where the supplies came from. You figured he would eventually question why there were two packs, so decided to tell him.

"Actually, they aren’t mine, they were left here,” you cleared your throat nervously, remembering Joel’s outburst about you sleeping with people at the office. "They're Justin's. He forgot to pick them up after I broke up with him.” You turned away so you couldn’t see his reaction, nervous he would show that angry side of himself again.

His hands stilled at your words. He had no right, and he knew it, but a wave of jealousy washed over him anyway. Joel pushed his feelings aside, not wanting to upset you again after he had made a little progress with you today.

"Hated camping so much you broke his heart, then?" he joked, offering you a small smile.

Your cheeks heated up at the real reason you broke up with Justin, that day in the meadow with your thoughts consumed of Joel crossing your mind. You let out a small chuckle and said, "I guess I better get used to it now."

The two of you spent the rest of the day rummaging through your kitchen cabinets, setting aside essentials you could pack, only stopping briefly to eat some dinner. You found you had some chicken in your fridge, so you cooked it up with some rice and whatever vegetables you had that still looked good. You ate in silence, hunched over your small kitchen table.

"This is incredible, thank you again," Joel said, shoveling the last forkful in his mouth.

"You'd say that about anything right now, we haven't eaten anything decent since the bodega," you teased.

Joel shook his head in disagreement. "Nope, that ain't true. You're a good cook, and I'm grateful."

You looked down at your bowl shyly as Joel picked up his and washed it in your sink.

"Uh, I was wonderin," Joel started, clearing his throat and suddenly giving a spot on the bowl all his attention, "did he leave any clothes here I can use?"

You smacked your forehead, feeling stupid. Of course he wants different clothes, he's been in the same ones for days.

"No, he was only here that one time after camping, I'm sorry. Maybe we can look in some of those open apartments? I'm sure we can find something useful." You stood to wash your own bowl as he dried his hands.

Joel was pleased to hear your ex hadn't spent much time here, still struggling to ignore that jealous streak.

"Good idea, grab your bat, just in case, and let's go lookin' before it gets dark," he said, placing the towel delicately back on the holder before turning and heading towards your living room. You smiled inwardly at how domestic it felt in this moment, but you shook the thoughts out of your head. It's not like that between you, the focus was on surviving and finding your family.

You grabbed your bat and the two of you headed towards the door when suddenly the power went out. You both froze for a moment, taking in the eerie silence.

"Well, it held out longer than I figured it would. C'mon, we should definitely get goin' now, not much sun left." Joel said, opening up your apartment door a crack and peering out to make sure you were still alone. You followed him out the door, closed it gently behind you, and you walked a few doors down to apartment 245.

Joel indicated you stay back and he entered the room. It was a similar layout as your own, so it took him no time at all to confirm it was empty. You walked in and began to help him look through the dresser in the bedroom. Joel lucked out: the man who lived here was close enough to his size, so he grabbed a couple essential items and headed back to your place. He said he could continue to look tomorrow for more clothes, but this would do for now.

You rifled through your kitchen cabinet for as many candles as you could find, lighting them all over the apartment so you could see as the sun went down. You had just finished lighting the last one when Joel came out of your bathroom after taking a quick shower before the hot water cooled in the tank. He changed into a dark grey plain tshirt and some sweatpants.

"Feel better?" you asked, walking past him to put a candle in the bathroom.

"Much better, thanks," he said, checking the locks on your doors and windows. "I'm gonna move your couch in front of your door for the night. That way, I'll feel it move if someone tries breakin' in."

You emerged from the bathroom, your brows furrowed. "You can't sleep on that thing, are you kidding? You're too tall."

Joel looked down at the loveseat he was in the process of pushing across the carpet. You were right, his legs would hang off the end, it was only a two-seater.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he waved you off, finishing his task.

"Just sleep in my bed with me, it's big enough, it doesn't have to be weird," you offered before you could overthink it. He kept his eyes cast down on the loveseat, weighing your offer.

"Besides, this may be one of the last times we get to sleep on a mattress for a while," you added.

"You sure?" Joel asked, one eyebrow raised. He was pleasantly surprised by how much has changed between you. He knew he ruined his chance with you, and he couldn't bring up the argument now, it's been too long, the damage was done. But if you didn't absolutely despise him for it, maybe that could be enough.

"Yeah, of course. I'm gonna shower, too. Go on and settle in." You grabbed a change of clothes and closed the bathroom door behind you.

Joel stood in the middle of your bedroom looking around. It was a small room, just a bed, one end table with an alarm clock, a hamper and a dresser. It wasn't much, but you somehow had made it feel like you. The framed pictures you had on your dresser from your college days were next to some random pieces of jewelry scattered across the top. He gently touched the intricate glass knobs on your dresser, the tip of his finger dipping into the grooves of the design.

The dresser must have been old, because the slight pressure from his finger caused the drawer to fall open a few inches. He moved to shut it when he noticed something bright red hidden under the clothes. He turned around to confirm you were still in the shower, hearing the water trickling on the tub floor. Curious, he dipped his hand inside to pull the item to the surface. It was a red lace thong, soft and delicate in his rough hands. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse raced as he felt all the blood in his body heading right to his cock. He shoved the underwear back down to the bottom of the drawer quickly when he heard the water shut off. He got into one side of the bed and bunched up the blankets to hide his growing erection.

You padded out of the bathroom, still towel drying your hair. Considering the cool fall nights, you had put on sleep pants and a long sleeve T-shirt. Your heart jumped in your chest, nothing preparing you for the visual of seeing this man in your bed. Deciding you needed to take a moment, you made an excuse about blowing the candles out and left the room. You scolded yourself as you walked around to snuff out each candle. That part of your life with him is over, you aren't here playing house, and he all but told you how he felt in his office that day.

Stop thinking about him like that.

You blew out the last candle and headed back to your bedroom.

You each laid on your respective sides of the bed, you on your side with your back to him, and him flat on his back staring at your ceiling. It was quiet outside, but you could hear the occasional growl or yell far in the distance, and once you heard a FEDRA truck rumble by your building.

“Joel?” you whispered in the dark after a while, not sure if he was asleep.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“What do you think these things are? Are they people anymore?” you asked, unsure how to phrase your question.

“I’m not sure, the soldiers didn’t tell us much, I ain’t sure they even know,” he replied. "But I think we gotta look at it like it’s us or them: we can’t hold back if we’re in danger, d’you understand?”

You nodded in the darkness. He meant you’ll need to do what it takes to survive, even if that meant killing them.

“Yes,” you whispered back finally, “I understand.”

“I’m not sure how many of them there are, maybe it’s not as bad as we think… maybe the military can kill ‘em all and we can go back to normal. We haven’t even seen one yet, so who knows,” Joel said, yawning at the end of his sentence. You remembered he hardly slept the night before, so you stopped talking in order to let him rest. You closed your eyes and dreamt of whiskey and spearmint.

You awoke with a start when you heard another FEDRA truck rumble slowly past your building, shining a huge spotlight into the window as it drove by. It was still dark out, unsure of the time since your alarm clock was digital. You felt surprisingly warm despite the cool fall night. You were about to reach down to pull a blanket off when you stopped. The heat wasn’t from the blanket, it was Joel.

He was pressed up against your back with his arm slung around your waist lightly, his face buried in your still slightly damp hair. You felt his breath as it exhaled on the back of your neck softly and you fought the urge to shiver at the sensation, worried it would wake him. You could tell by his breathing he was in a deep sleep, so you took a moment to just enjoy what could have been. You wondered in a different timeline, had the world not ended and he wouldn't have said those things to you in his office, if he would be in your apartment like this under other circumstances. You knew you told yourself to stop thinking like this, that it wasn’t important anymore, but you knew tomorrow would bring a new day of fear and who knows what else. Tonight, you were safe in your apartment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let your guard down, just a little.

You closed your eyes and leaned back ever so slightly against Joel, careful about waking him up. You sighed softly as you envisioned what it would have been like to have brought him back to your apartment, maybe after getting drinks and seeing a movie together. You would both stumble into your apartment giggling, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in to kiss you as you would try to retreat backwards towards your bedroom door without breaking contact. Once you had him in your room, you would have run your hands up and down his torso, trying to get him to lift his shirt over his head. Maybe he would have gently pushed you back so you would land flat on your bed, watching him remove his shirt so you could finally see the rest of those strong arms and broad chest.

You wondered what you would have worn. Probably a dress, but not a work dress. Maybe the knee length cream dress with little flowers on it you kept tucked in the back of your closet, hardly ever finding an occasion to wear it. You definitely would have tried to surprise him with the red thong you kept hidden away, wondering what his reaction would have been when he ran his hands up your smooth legs under your dress and feeling the soft lace under his fingers. Maybe he would have asked you to take your dress off and leave just the underwear on so he could see all of you in the moonlight shining through your window. Would he have pulled you down on his lap roughly, pinching your nipple and gripping the meaty part of your hip as he ground his hard cock up against your warm center, still covered with lace, teasing you? Or would he have taken his time, laid you down on the bed while he inched the thong down your legs, spreading them wide so he could see just how wet you were for him? Maybe he would have pressed your legs down on the bed while he licked the opening of your pulsing cunt, his angular nose nudging against your clit, over and over until you came screaming his name and your hands buried in his curls.

You forced your imagination to stop before you woke him up with your ragged breathing. You couldn’t relieve the pressure between your legs, anyway, since he had you caged in. All you could do was squirm a little bit, feeling the dampness that pooled in your underwear. Joel's arm shifted, probably because you were moving, so you froze while trying to calm your breathing. He sighed and gave his limbs a small stretch. The arm that was draped loosely over your waist tightened around you now, his large hand splayed against your ribs and shoved between your side and the mattress. You held your breath until you were sure he was still asleep, finally relaxing when his breathing evened back out again.

You weren't sure what tomorrow would bring, or even if you would both live. Tonight, you drifted off to sleep in his arms, making a mental note to put that guard back up tomorrow.

Joel woke up first the next morning, the pleasant floral scent of your shampoo invading his senses before he even opened his eyes. Keeping his eyes shut, he frowned, the memories of yesterday flooding back to him. It had been a long day and your bed was so warm, he resisted the urge to wake up just yet. He sighed, stretching out a little before he realized his hand was pinned between you and the bed. He opened his eyes for the first time and saw you curled up with your back against his chest, sleeping peacefully with your lips slightly parted. No, he was clutching you to his chest, he must have done it in his sleep. No wonder he slept like a rock.

He gently tried to unweave himself without waking you up, but he failed. You stirred just as his arm broke free, and he quickly put some space between you so his morning wood wasn't digging into your back anymore.

You stretched and yawned, stilling when you felt him shift beside you. Turning over on your other side to face him, you gave him a sleepy smile before stretching once again and got up to head towards the bathroom.

Once the door shut, Joel exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He gripped his hard cock over the blankets to try to make it go away enough to stand up. It wasn't until you had left the bathroom to go into the kitchen for some food that he finally stood, tucking the remainder of his erection into his waistband.

You had dug out some pop-tarts and cereal, eating it dry since the milk had likely gone bad by now. You both ate in silence leaning over the kitchen counter.

"What's the plan for today?" you asked between a handful of Cheerios.

"Well, I figure we can look around some of these open apartments for whatever else we can use. Pack up our bags and see if we can start headin' west." Joel replied, dusting his hands on the sides of his sweatpants.

You nodded, telling him you were going to get changed, leaving him in the kitchen alone. Joel wandered over to the window, peeking out through the curtains to see if there was any activity. He didn't see any movement, a good sign, but not a sure thing. Once you were changed, he swapped places with you and changed as well, then you headed out the door to loot your neighbor's apartments.

You were wandering around the apartment across the hall from you as Joel was digging through another closet to gather a few more items he could wear. The rooms were a mess, just like all of the other apartments, like everyone left in such a hurry: random drawers were left partially opened and clothes strewn around. You sauntered up to an end-table next to the couch in the living room and cracked opened a drawer with one finger, your bat lazily dangling in your other hand. You saw something shiny inside, so you opened the drawer all the way and pulled out a large and sharp hunting knife encased in a leather sheath.

You picked it up and made you way into the bedroom where Joel was now rummaging around in the adjoining bathroom, inspecting first aid supplies and pocketing what looked useful.

"I got you a present," you said, leaning against the doorframe. He turned to you, his hand briefly brushing against the keychain in his jeans pocket subconsciously as he stood up. You held out the knife, which he stepped forward and took.

"Hey, good find!" he said excitedly. "These bats'll only get us so far."

He placed the knife on the bathroom sink and began to undo his belt. Your eyes latched onto the movement, not expecting it. Feeling flustered, you swallowed nervously and you felt your cheeks get warm as you briefly replayed some of the thoughts you were having in the middle of the night, turning away before Joel noticed.

Once his belt was off, he threaded the sheath through the leather and ran the belt back through the loops of his jeans. Despite your efforts, he had noticed the blush that creeped along your cheeks. He smirked as he watched you exit the room and head towards the bedroom window.

You stood against the side of the window, resting your head against the frame and gazed outside. You thought you could hear something in the distance but you couldn't put your finger on what the sound was. You motioned for Joel to come over.

"What is that?" you asked. He shook his head, listening.

The noise was growing louder and sounded like growling and snarls. As it got closer, you could hear some screams interspersed with the growls. Joel must have seen something because he grabbed you by the shoulder and tugged you down to the ground, putting a finger against his lips. Quiet.

He peeked over the edge of the window just enough to see a huge mob of at least 50 infected ambling down the street mindlessly.

"Fuck," Joel whispered. He watched as he saw them stumble and drag their feet, hunched over with their mouths either hanging open or snapping at the air. Joel noticed most of them were covered in some amount of blood, either their own or someone else's.

As the noises got closer, you lifted your head up slightly to look down at the street, gasping and clamping both hands tightly over your mouth. You continued to stare as tears pricked the back of your eyes. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. This was so much worse than you had imagined.

The two of you could barely hear the roar of the trucks over the snarling as they approached from the opposite direction, FEDRA soldiers standing on the top and unloading endless amounts of bullets into the hoard of infected. You ducked down, but Joel kept watching. He saw how the bullets went right through them, barely flinching as they began to charge the soldiers angrily. The drivers threw the trucks into reverse before they were overrun, causing a couple soldiers on the top to lose their balance and fall into the hoard. The infected swarmed on top of the fallen soldiers, their shrieks muffled by growls and wheels squealing on the asphalt as they raced back down the street to safety, followed by the few hopeless infected that weren't tearing apart the soldiers on the ground.

He ducked back down under the window, panting heavily from the adrenaline. You were still hunched over with your mouth clamped shut under your hands, rocking on your heels with tears silently streaming down your face.

Joel leaned forward and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you against his chest. Neither of you said a word, you just sat there until the growls from the infected faded and they headed down the street. You stayed like that another ten minutes before you risked looking back out the window. Joel saw the pieces of soldiers that remained: mostly scraps of clothing, boots, a hand here or there, and the street filled with their dark red blood. He noticed a few infected that had died from the bullets. When he looked closer, he saw they all had a shot to the head. So there was a way to kill them.

Joel sighed. He sat up against the wall and rubbed his hands roughly over his face.

"A knife and a bat won't cut it, we need guns," he said to you. You sniffled and looked up at him.

"Where do we get guns?"

"My place. I got a few there. It's far though, deep in the city, near the office."

You felt your pulse return to normal now as you dried your tears on the sleeve of your T-shirt.

"Maybe the subway is clear? At least we would be off the street," you said.

"It's the only plan we got," Joel replied. He stood up to reach down and help you stand, and you quietly went back to your apartment.

Chapter Eight

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