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earthtooz · 8 months

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x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+ﾟ

in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?

warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!

a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)

The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day.

When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon.

The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else.

You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone.

“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).

Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself.

“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask.

“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.”

“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home.

The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you.

Can a home be a person?

He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.

“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.

You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?).

Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.

“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.”

He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.

“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes.

“You didn’t even look properly.”

“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”

You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”

“None! None at all!”

You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms.

His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you.

“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask.

His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster.

Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow.

“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?”

“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”

“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.”

He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt,

Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.

But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?

When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down.

Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims.

You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers.

The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.

“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”

“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”

The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.

“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.

“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks.

“You’re at the right place.”

“But he told us no one would be home today!”

“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”

“Yeah, we are! And who are you?”

“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”

“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”

“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”

“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”

“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”

“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone.

“No trouble at all,” he reassures.

“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.

“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.

What an intriguing pair.

“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.”

“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.

Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!”

“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”

“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”

“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”

“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.

“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”

You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’.

“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”

“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”

“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.

“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”

A… what?

Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush.

Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.

You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world.

Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui.

(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be.

Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.

You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)

Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine.

“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”

“Welcome home, Childe.”

He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-”

“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him.

“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.

“Must you act a fool?”

“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”

“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”

“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.

“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know.

“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”

“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.

“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”

“Childe-”

“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.

“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet.

Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet.

“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”

Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”

“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”

“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft.

“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.”

With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of.

You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?

“Who are you really?”

“I’m yours-”

“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself.

“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”

“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”

“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”

“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.

He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you?

“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?”

Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him.

Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)

You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.

“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”

“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?”

“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”

The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.

You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.

“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob.

“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen.

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”

“I know.”

You shut the door behind you.

apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.

@fallenssun for u :>

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader fluff #tartaglia x reader fluff #ajax x reader fluff #genshin x reader fluff #childe fic #tartaglia fic #ajax fic

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faetreides · 7 days

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🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!

cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes

patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!

They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.

Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.

Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.

Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.

You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.

You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.

Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.

You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.

“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.

She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?

There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.

“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”

That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.

“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.

You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.

“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.

Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).

Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.

Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.

When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.

That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.

Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.

Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.

Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.

And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 23 days

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Stuck on the idea of vampires as a kind of reverse fae, or like someone's twisted, perverse attempt at moulding humans into fae.

They're repelled by liminal spaces.

A vampire could never enter fairyland, not just because they'd never be welcomed, but because most of the usual entry-ways are naturally barred to them.

They can't cross running water. They can't be seen in mirrors. They will wait forever at a crossroads, unable to pick a direction to go in. They can't even step over a thresh-hold unless there is absolutely no ambiguity about whether they are welcome inside.

They crave human blood, iron and salt, but are repelled by herbs and plants. They are supernaturally prevented from harming you unless the rules of hospitality have been invoked.

A fairy may replace your newborn child with something unnatural and ever-hungry. A vampire will do the same, but with your grandmother's corpse.

The fae are typically associated, even in stories where they're the bad guys, with flourishing and purity. Vampires, even in stories where they're the good guys, are typically associated with decay and corruption.

The fae turn ancient human burial mounds into fancy halls for their courts. Vampires take ancient human castles and let them grow mildewed and cobwebbed, exchanging the beds for coffins, turning them into burial places.

Fae don't tend to live among humans, but can generally pass for them with relative ease if they so choose. Vampires nearly always live among humans, but tend to find not revealing themselves a huge struggle.

I can't think of many stories I've read where fae and vampires even exist in the same universe, let alone ones where they actively interact. I feel like their enmity is almost more inevitable than that between vampires and werewolves, however.

The rivalry between vampires and werewolves is, essentially, the rivalry between two apex predator species who share a territory. (Even in stories where the werewolves aren't actually hunting humans.)

The vampires hate the werewolves because the werewolves interfere with their access to prey. The werewolves hate the vampires either because they consider themselves aligned with humans (the prey species), or because they are also predators and the vampires are competing with them.

By comparison, I think there's some story potential in the fae finding something genuinely creepy and uncanny valley about vampires.

They're immortal, like them, but also dead. They can be beautiful, like them, but that beauty is something they actively require humans to sustain. They like to inhabit beautiful and ancient ex-human dwellings, like them, but they actively work to make those places dark, damp and empty.

Fairies who are unflappable in the face of all sorts of Otherworldly monsters, can look an eldritch horror in the eye(s) without blinking, and have never been phased yet by any human, but will recoil from even the weakest vampire.

Vampires who hate fairies just as much, but in a more envious way. The way that the creature for whom immortality is a curse is bound to hate the creatures for whom immortality is an eternity of sunlight and laughter.

Maybe their touches burn each other. Maybe vampires can't stand physical contact with anything so alive and vital. Maybe immortal fairies become ill from too much exposure to the undead.

Maybe they fight over the human population when their territories overlap. The fairy need for servants and people to make deals with, competing with the vampire need for thralls and blood to drink.

Just… fairies and vampires. We need more stories about them interacting.

#vampires #fae #fairies #fantasy #fantasy headcanons #urban fantasy #now imagine all this in the context of an enemies to lovers story

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queenofapeacefuldawn · 2 months

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SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father

Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.

Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):

(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)

Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics

Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:

Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):

We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).

We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.

Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm

Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate

During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...

Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.

This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.

Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.

And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...

Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)

We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.

My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.

We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:

Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-

And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:

Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-

Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.

If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.

Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)

Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3

During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:

One, as a child, when his home is bombed:

And two, as an adult, in the army:

and these injuries are both to his left eye.

Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨

Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...

which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).

Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.

---

Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF

If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.

So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?

(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)

#spy x family #sxf #spy x family manga #spy x family headcanon #spy x family theory #spy x family manga spoilers #spy x family anime #agent twilight #loid forger #yuri briar #sss lieutenant

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comicaurora · 3 months

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In your asks and other outside-of-comic statements, you seem to draw on parallels to programming a lot when talking about lacrimas.

And this makes me think as a programmer: the primordial rules that are used in Auroras to do magic and lacrimas are part of the primordial language. You are literally telling the primordial's dead bodies what to do, and they obey.

Yet, the difference that comes to my mind is that Primordial was at one point a language actually spoken. Used to communicate in day-to-day life by normal sentient beings. That's quite different from programming languages, which aren't meant to be talked in at all, and are built from the ground up purely to convey a series of precise instructions. They're very formalised and structured. There are no synonyms, no double meanings, no altering of word order, no redundant information etc. It's extremely rigid, much unlike languages people actually talk in, for which a degree of fluidity and ambiguity is essential.

And in Aurora it would seem the latter is being used as the former.

Have you ever thought about this tension/contradiction/conflict? How it affects the world, how it affects your writing, etc?

Or has this distinction never crossed your mind?

Or was this something you have noticed, but never really had the right knowledge to engage with much?

Or any other thoughts on the subject, really

So! This is an interesting thing I have actually thought about.

When the Elder Races were first created, they were born knowing and speaking a language innovatively called the First Language. Every new Young Race is also initially created speaking this language. The language then drifts over the generations, developing into regional dialects and then into separate linguistic descendants if given enough time.

The Ancients spoke a close descendent of the First Language for most of their time in existence, and made a writing system of their own very early on, which has no innate power. But in the early days of the world, the generally accepted story is that a god granted the three elder races knowledge of the written Runic language, which could command the elements. The Ancients acquired it late and used it very sparingly, only for the programming of lacrimas, but for the Elves and Humans living in the depths of the Caves, this was their first and primary writing system. It's even possible that a rare cave-dweller brave enough to venture to the surface was the one who taught the Ancients these runes in the first place.

It's posed an obvious question, of course. Why does this one specific form of writing manifest as a language of magic? Why can it command the dead Primordials? Why is it so well-suited to the phonemes of the First Language that every child of this world is created speaking?

The predominant theory - and, with two living primordials to check with, one which is potentially on the cusp of being proven - is that the First Language and its runic writing system are the language that the Primordials spoke. Its words, written or spoken, can be understood by the remnants of thought that still linger in the sleeping, dead-but-not-entirely-gone primordials that make up the world.

Primordial magic is different from programming in one key way: real computers are entirely unthinking entities. They are not in any way smart - not even smart enough to be stupid. A computer parsing a program cannot observe a missing parentheses and compensate like a human could do in their sleep - it simply fails to parse, because the mathematics don't work out.

Magic in this world is like what every programmer wishes programming could be. Tell the computer what to do, and it might be a little confused, but it'll get the gist. Tell Fire to burn in this direction - Fire, even if it's just running on an echo of a seven-thousand-year-old memory, knows what that means. Tell the wind to printf this statement to this recipient, it'll try to find them and send the message. Tell Life to make this body do what it's doing faster, it can do that. It's simple executions of simple commands, almost reflexive - things that require no complex higher thought from a being that is no longer alive enough to have them. They're not as unthinking as computers, and that means the nuances of language can actually have an effect on them. Some mages think more poetic and emotionally-charged spell invocations can lead to better, more efficient results - an appeal to a long-dead emotion might be easier for the Primordial to execute than an appeal to a half-forgotten complex thought.

When a mage takes direct control of a magical energy and funnels it into an elemental effect, their own higher thought allows the element to do more complicated things - Fire can't transmute on its own like it could when it was alive, but it can when bent to a mortal will. No need to translate a spell into the language of magic when the mage can simply use their own mind to shape the effect. This is the primary advantage mages have over lacrima-users - flexibility, complexity, and speed.

Another interesting factor. Alinua's dynamic with Life demonstrates what a living Primordial's living thought can do when in the hands of a mortal. A normal, simple healing spell cast by anybody but her just accelerates a body's own healing, but with Alinua's guidance steadying Life's hand, they can do much more complicated things of her own free will - things Life knows how to do that no mage knows how to command her to do.

#asks #aurora

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tommyxgrace-always · 6 months

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Tommy & Ada parallels

Political inclination

Tommy was known to be communist/socialist before the war, dreaming about changing the world. After Grace, he eventually decides to pursue politics.

Ada also shared communist ideologies and is active to an extent with Freddie. When Tommy became MP, she naturally became his political advisor. In the finale, Tommy reiterates the fact that she was born for politics in her family.

Fine things in life

Tommy liked to possess lavish and fine things. His suits for example, In s1, we see how he gets his suits done from the same place as Kimber. In s4, we hear how he gets his suits done by a tailor in London. Similarly he admired Tatiana’s luxurious car in s3 just like the look of awe he gave May’s mansion. Arrow house was decorated with the finest things - paintings, interiors, furniture and his bedroom with Grace too.

Ada’s house in s2 said it all. The interior, the furniture everything was expensive and grand. This aspect of her personality is reiterated in s5, by showing the luxurious redecoration and also her art pieces, vases etc (when finn was too scared to ruin it with his blood)

Love & Marraige

Both married the love of their life inspite of opposition from family. Ada married Freddie even though Tommy and her brothers were against a communist. Tommy married Grace even when Polly was against her.

Both their children were born out of wedlock. When Ada got pregnant there was ambiguity about Freddie’s intentions for her. Just when Ada lost hope and decides to be practical and abort, they have a dramatic reunion at the train station. Their love for each other is validated and they look forward to have their child. Similarly Grace got pregnant with Tommy’s child, there is ambiguity about her intentions and it seems they will go their separate ways again. Just when Tommy seems to have accepted that she will sail away and decides to be practical and be with May, they have a dramatic reunion at the Derby. Their love and longing for each other is re-validated and they look forward to have a life together.

Both lose the love of their life. Tommy takes it way worse because of his already existing war trauma. Ada is normal and emotionally stable so she carries on without getting sucked into addictions, depression and hallucinations whereas we all know how Tommy suffered after Grace.

Both end up being widowers and single parents

Companionship

They never looked for love again. Companions yes but not another love.

We see Ada interested in the Russian spy in s3 and later we see her with Ben Younger. There may be other men whom she saw which we don’t see onscreen. Tommy, we all know went from women to women. Prostitutes, aristocrats, communist, secretary, dead wife’s ghost, ex girlfriend’s ghost, you name it!!!

Ben Younger was Ada’s constant and the longest one we see with her. They seem to share a stable relationship like two “mutually consenting normal people” who respect each other, can share. Lizzie is a constant go-to for Tommy but they share an unequal dynamic where she has been hopelessly in love with him from beginning while he saw her as no strings attached buddy and had other priorities and is done with love after Grace. Thats why that relationship is chaotic and toxic but also convenient and practical for both.

Interestingly they also have a child out of wedlock with their companions. The difference is Tommy had to marry Lizzie as a man who took responsibility of his child. Whereas Ada mentions she wasn’t planning to marry Ben, it’s seen as a bold move.

Ada and Ben’s relationship confirms what Grace fan always knew unlike a certain section of the fandom . Just because a partner is decent and good and you like them does not automatically mean you fell in love. Ada explains in a s5 scene after she hears of Ben’s demise “I didn’t love him. But I liked him. He was decent and good….I wasn’t going to marry him. God he didn’t deserve us”. This is exactly how Tommy and Lizzie were designed too. Due to Tommy’s trauma and unequal feelings for Lizzie, their relationship is more toxic in nature than Ada and Ben’s. But at the core it was companionship. Two people having a convenient partnership that serves both. Tommy also found Lizzie to be decent and good compared to him. She took care of his children and was loyal to him and his family. She didn’t deserve him. He didn’t love her either but liked her. He felt sorry for her as she had to bear the ultimate pain of losing a child.

There is so much more I wanted to cover about their bond. But this post will be too long. So will do a separate post.

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sepublic · 1 year

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Looking back, a lot of us assumed the statues in Gravesfield depicting Caleb and Philip as adults was an example of in-universe historical inaccuracy, kind of like how Pocahontas is portrayed as an adult, when she was actually a child when everything happened. But in hindsight, I have to wonder if this adult depiction is even a discrepancy to begin with, and not a point of clarification for the timeline of events for these brothers?

I think what contributed to the belief that Caleb and Philip were children when the former entered the isles forever is because of Belos’ memory portraits. But we know they don’t depict everything, such as how Philip arrived in the Boiling Isles; From a Doylist perspective, the writers want to leave in some ambiguity, some mystery, and there’s only room for so many memories in the background.

But as we learn in Thanks to Them, Caleb and Evelyn communicated through hidden rebuses to meet up multiple times; So their interactions in the human world took place over time, and it wasn’t just an instant, one-off meeting and then Caleb disappeared, his brother in hot pursuit. Dana even clarified in a Post-Hoot that Evelyn initially presented herself as human to Caleb and the rest of Gravesfield, and revealed herself after Caleb earned her trust.

Maybe this happened across one meeting, one day; But the likelihood is that Caleb and Evelyn interacted as ‘fellow humans’ a few times before the truth was revealed. And they continued to meet up, discreetly contacting one another with hidden rebuses for the other to find and decode.

So if all this happened over an unspecified period of time, who’s to say it wasn’t across years? And that by the time Caleb made the decision to move to the Boiling Isles, it was when he and Philip were adults; In fact, he might’ve even waited until Philip was an adult who could take care of himself, before leaving him to live his own life!

Likewise, there is a valid interpretation that Caleb hid the truth of Evelyn from Philip, and wasn’t aware he was watching when he went off to explore the Demon Realm a few times, before eventually making the permanent move. But I think the other interpretation works, too; That Caleb DOES know Philip is there and watching. And he never made Philip enter the Demon Realm with him, out of a misguided desire to not make his baby brother uncomfortable, force him out of his comfort zone, etc.

Caleb might’ve told Philip to wait for him back home, if he didn’t want to enter the magical portal with him; He’d be back! And Caleb did return, multiple times. And Philip didn’t rat him and Evelyn out because he was still a child, and not as dead set into his hatred yet… But I’ve compared Philip to King, as little kids with delusions of grandeur involving their enemies being crushed beneath them.

And remember Really Small Problems, when King initially tolerated Luz going off to be with Willow and Gus, due to her promise to come back for him? But after enough time of feeling neglected, King’s resentment began to build up? Within the span of just one night, King wasn’t yet ready to intentionally make Willow and Gus ‘temporarily disappear’, but when it happened, he took advantage of the situation anyway instead of bringing them back ASAP, and eventually owned up to this mistake.

So imagine how Philip felt across years; He may have disliked Evelyn, but not enough to want her dead… But after enough time of feeling resentful over Caleb dedicating time to Evelyn instead of just him, Philip became selfish and entitled over the fact that his brother dared to have a life that didn’t revolve around Philip. Until he became angry enough at Evelyn to want her dead, and retroactively fell back on the belief of witches as inherently evil in order to morally justify these desires, instead of admitting he was just possessive of his older brother. Plus, exposing Evelyn could make him a hero in the eyes of the townsfolk!

We know there was a big fire, and we know Evelyn was declared a witch by Gravesfield. This could’ve been in response to her, Caleb, and Philip all disappearing; But it’s also possible that realization occurred while they were still there. And that it in fact may have driven Evelyn out of the human world, with Caleb following because he potentially ousted himself by openly defending her. Seeing his brother commit a moral wrong he couldn’t stand by could’ve influenced Caleb to leave when the two of them were adults; As was the ‘reassurance’ that Philip was now accepted by the town as a witch hunter who exposed Evelyn and spearheaded her exile, whereas Caleb was even more of an outcast for his collaboration.

Of course, the idea that Caleb was an adult when he moved out does raise the question? Why do we not see this progression of age in the memory portraits? And again, there’s what I said about ambiguity and whatnot, but there’s also the conventions of the time skip. Just as TOH ends on a time skip where we don’t see the gradual progression of the characters’ aging outside of some photos, for the Wittebanes, whose story is only told through photos, the framing skips over the years Caleb and Evelyn interacted. The turning point in which the two met and the latter revealed herself was enough…

After all, the portraits already skip past Philip’s aging to bring us to his arrival in the Demon Realm as an adult; Who’s to say they didn’t skip past years of Caleb growing up in Gravesfield with Evelyn? Caleb entering the Boiling Isles with Evelyn as a child wasn’t the last Philip saw of his brother, until he himself entered years later; But it was the beginning of ‘the end’ in his eyes, the beginning of when he felt he lost Caleb.

In the end, a lot of this is speculative. It’s possible Caleb was only portrayed as an adult in-universe because the townspeople correctly remembered Philip being an adult when they last saw him, so generations afterwards made the mistake of applying this to his older brother. History isn’t as well-documented as people would like to believe, even the famous stories are forgotten and picked up after a while; Major details people should’ve easily remembered fall through the holes of time. Entire cities have been lost and rediscovered.

But ultimately, the fact that Belos’ memories DO portray a ‘timeskip’ based on what we see of them anyway, in addition to the confirmation that Caleb and Evelyn met up over time before the former moved… I think that solidifies my belief that yes, Caleb was an adult when he left Gravesfield, as was Philip. The statues in Yesterday’s Lie are among the very first indicators of Caleb’s existence, as is the episode itself acting as a ‘debut’ of sorts for him in the lore. So maybe Gravesfield’s depiction isn’t so inaccurate, after all…

#the owl house #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #emperor belos #evelyn clawthorne #analysis #speculation

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sugaredrhubarb · 7 months

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Reading with Ru: Aug/Sept Fic Recs

I know I'm certainly in need of some positivity and escapism lately, so I'm gonna try to do semi-regular fic and book recs! Starting with a retroactive what I've been reading from the past couple of months with this account! (I might go back in time and make an all-time rec list later)

COD

starting with cod because i know most of you go here

Sergeant Squeaks by @charliemwrites - (series of one-shots ghost x reader and price x reader separately) both one of my favourite reader characters and my favourite canon setting depictions of Ghost and Price. their own weird brands of showing love are wonderful; the tension leading to getting together is fantastic, and the sex is super enjoyable.

Ghost Stories by @kneelingshadowsalome - (ghost x medic!reader) I'm repeating myself, but I love Salome's writing. This is where I was first introduced to it, and I think it's really special. Ghost POV as he struggles with developing and then accepting love. felt so real and grounded. angsty and then fluffy, and you can't help but adore the reader as well.

saltwater by @ceilidho - (ghost x reader) It's pretty unlikely any of you don't know Ceil, but on the off chance you haven't given this one a read yet, it really is a must. I lump praise on her pretty regularly, but I don't know anyone who is able to portray their character's emotions as intimately as Ceil. her ghost feels really grounded in all his complexity. there is a common theme in these recs of really enjoyable reader characters, and this is not an exception; the reader feels like a full but still ambiguous character who is vulnerable and strong and really great.

don't leave me locked in your heart by @ohbo-ohno - (ghoap x reader dark!) we all know bo, we all love bo. I always love the way she depicts ghost and soap's dynamic changing and evolving to include the reader. the descent into dark territory in this is really really fun. It's also just hot and well-written! if you haven't read it before, go read it, and then go read all of bo's drabbles and asks on here. genuinely one of my favourite dark but still fun writers. I think she balances it really well.

body electric by @yeyinde and Afterburn by @sprout-fics - (141 + Los Vaqueros x reader) a classic. I've returned to these so many times. sometimes you just want to read dirty, filthy, well done, smut and then warm cozy aftercare. not to wax poetic about pure sex (except that's exactly what one should do), but I think it can be really hard to write group sex like this and still have such insightful and individual glimpses into each character and dynamic, and Lev does it wonderfully. and then it's also hard to find good aftercare fic, and Sprout's feels like literal aftercare for both the reader character and the reader.

other fandoms

tried to curate to themes i think overlap in some of the cod works! and I think most of these can be read fandom blind.

i revisited @winterrose527's fic in August, and even though she already knows how much I love her work, I won't skip a chance to repeat it. Anna writes for asoiaf and is pretty much the queen of Robb Stark/Myrcella Baratheon, but I would say the modern AUs (my favs) can be read almost completely fandom blind. Any contemporary romance enjoyer would love her work. I'm really partial to her kid/single-parent fics. I think it's so hard to get right, and I always adore reading her kid characters and how she approaches love stories when kids are involved. anna's works are always brimming with love and incredible platonic, familiar, parent-child, and romantic relationships (if kid fic isn't your thing she also has a ton of other great fics). personal favs: We Could Be a Little Something, And There They Are, All the Same

Lawless by @goldcranes - (arthur morgan x ofc) age difference, cowboy love story, essentially a romance novel. if goldcranes has no fans, I'm dead. I encourage you to explore her work; very few people write as strongly across multiple fandoms as she does, and each of her works feels like a really strong love story with special characters.

The Odyssey by @sunlightmurdock - (bradley bradshaw x reader) 1980's roman literature prof x virgin student - no need to know top gun. katie's work is another entry in the 'feels like it stands really strongly separately from the source material' category. she has multiple ongoing AU's that I really love, but this one is a favourite. i think she does complex characters really well - their actions always feel intentional, and as flawed as they are, I always love them.

Wouldn't it be Nice by allyoops - (m/f captive A/B/O) if you aren't reading original works smut on ao3 you are missing out and allyoops is a great place to start for noncon, dubcon, age gap, taboo etc. enjoyers. they have a ton of works; usually one shots with lots of really delicious dynamics and different settings and tropes.

An Intoxicating Presence by FormerlyIR - (mob a/b/o haladriel) MOB. A/B/O. HALADRIEL. picks up with Halbrand in prison thanks to undercover FBI agent (and his mate!) Galadriel. does that sound crazy and awesome? well it is. mix it with Gal's internal struggle, the added complication of omegaverse, and overall great writing. really fun and really damn good.

civitas terrena by banalityofweevil - (darklina) angel Alina on an exploration of love in immortality with fallen angel Aleks. honestly, it's just a must-read for enjoyers of writing. incredibly creative with divine (literally and figuratively) imagery. i think one of my comments was on the precision of lulu's diction and I really stand by that.

tinsel into gold by ribbonedhare - (darklina) ddlg and cnc friends, this changed me. it is so warm and soft and my god, is it good. just scrumptious.

Be My Babydoll by KittyDruthers - (darklina) ddlg dollification need I say more

check the reading with ru tag for more!

#reading with ru #if you read any of these and wanna yell about em with me my asks are open!#fic rec #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfics #cod #darklina #fanfic recs

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witchthewriter · 2 years

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚, 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

⭑ There was too much passion, too much desire, for the four of you to be separate.

⭑ You moved to Dragonstone, where the chambers were much larger than the ones at King’s Landing.

⭑ And although you do have a shared room, you have chambers of your own. Where you can store your belongings and hide away if you wish it.

⭑ Harwin rarely uses his rooms, and is usually in someone else’s.

⭑ Rhaenyra’s is closest to yours and you often find yourselves snuggle at night.

⭑ You’re all equally in love with each other. And I mean everyone is. Even Harwin and Daemon. That might be inconceivable, but sexuality is a spectrum and cannot be defined all the time.

⭑ Daemon loves Harwin’s intensity and his passion. He finds it invigorating, blood-boiling and exciting.

⭑ Harwin loves the way Daemon’s mind works and he is constantly asking what he’s thinking.

⭑ Rhaenyra and Daemon are married, while you and Harwin married four years ago.

⭑ You had this arangement for two and a half years at King’s Landing. You all tried to keep it a secret. But ever since moving to Dragonstone, you all feel like you can be your true selves.

⭑ Rhaenyra still has Jace, Luke and Joffrey from Harwin, and she is now pregnant with her first child from Daemon.

⭑ Laenor is still ‘dead’ to the world. But Harwin was practically saved from his fate by his marriage to you. It took him out of the spotlight with the allegations that Laenor wasn’t the children’s father.

⭑ You and Harwin haven’t been trying for children yet - you still take contraceptives. You haven’t yearned for motherhood quite yet.

⭑ And Harwin does not mind that in the least. He’s just happy with his family already - there’s nothing missing. Nothing that he pushes for you to do.

⭑ Daemon is an enigma to you -

⭑ He’s not like many men, not many at all.

⭑ You fell in love with him when you were younger. And yes you have admitted that to him - it was during a night that you were all drinking. Someone came up with the idea to tell secrets to each other. And you told that one.

⭑ No one shamed you for it though.

⭑ Rhaenyra has loved you ever since you came to court at age 10. She didn’t know it was love. She thought it was friendship.

⭑ You, her and Alicent were a threesome. A group of best friends who loved one another dearly.

⭑ But Alicent chose to betray both of you, by marrying Viserys.

⭑ She hadn’t even told you that was her plans.

⭑ Alicent became very jealous of how close you and Rhaenyra became after that.

⭑ You were the white-haired heir’s solace. A shoulder to cry on. A person she knew she could always go to.

⭑ When everyone is home, there aren’t any visitors and the children are in bed, the four of you will sit in front of the warm fire. Daemon sitting on the couch, a book in his hand. Harwin on the opposite side of the lounge, with Rhaenyra on the floor between his legs. You’re laying directly on the floor, your back to the fire while you watch your partners.

⭑ Daemon usually pats the spot beside him, without looking up from his book.

⭑ Everyone is content.

Theme Song:

‘The Devil & The Daughter’ by Daniel Pemberton

Relationship Tropes:

Touch ANY Of My Partners, And You Die (that goes for all of you, you little fiesty things)

Idiot (Harwin and You) x Loves Their Idiot (Rhaenyra and Daemon)

Murderous Intent (Daemon) x Chill (Rhaenyra) x Chaotic Dumbass (Harwin) x Psycho But Not Insane (You)

Mama Bear (Rhaenyra) x Papa Bear (Harwin) x Wine Uncle (Daemon) x Vodka Aunt (You)

NSFW🔞 minors dni!

⭑ Sex is actually very fun, and no, it isn’t always the four of you every single time.

⭑ Usually, it’s a free for all; no one gets jealous that the other has had sex with someone else because they know that in time it will happen to them

⭑ However, when you all first agreed to be a part of this relationship, the sex was out of this world.

⭑ All four of you were a tangled mess of arms, legs, mouths, and teeth.

⭑ You didn’t know whose fingers were inside of you, but they felt good. And then at one point all of your holes were full, two cocks and slender fingers were inside you. Thrusting and pumping. The feeling was indescribable. Like there wasn’t a part of you missing. You were whole.

⭑ Sometimes you off with partners, while still keeping everyone involved. A good example of this is mirrored spooning; Harwin is behind you, while Daemon is behind Rhaenyra. They thrust into you from behind, with you stare at the opposite person.

⭑ Daemon likes to fuck you while you’re in the air on Caraxes. His cock is buried deep inside you, and he thrusts deeper on while Caraxes’ descends. Gravity pushes you down farther onto him.

⭑ Rhaenyra likes to fuck on the bed, or while bathing. Usually, her fingers find their way inside of you. She’s usually a gentle lover, but on the days that she feels extra needy, she’ll rip your clothes off and pleasure you until she hears you orgasm. Then she keeps going until you plead for a break.

⭑ Harwin likes to fuck you on the training grounds. Especially on the ground. Your dress over your waist, while he thrusts deeper inside you. The dirt embeds itself in your knees.

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Eat Your Young

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (platonic!Ellie Williams x reader)

Author’s note: I’m sorry (gif by @pedrohub)

Summary: “Thoe I walk through the valley in the shadow of death I fear no evil for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.” [4.1k!!!]

Warnings: episode 8 spoilers!! David (this is a warning in itself), Ellie in peril, canonical violence, bargaining, reader being a badass because I said so, a slight allusion to sa, PTSD symptoms, physical trauma, angst with a happy (slightly ambiguous) ending

Your body aches when you come to. Your face pulses with bruises, and you can feel broken ribs pushing against your lungs. Memories spark under your throbbing skull— waking up to the sound of the garage opening, Ellie yelling for help, the men, the horse going down. She should've woken you up earlier. She never should've tried to face them by herself. Your eyes blink open, and a hideous red carpet stares back at you. Rope ties your hands and ankles to the chair you're sitting on, and you look around for Ellie.

An empty room has never been as scary as it is right now. Your heartbeat quickens against sore ribs, and your breathing rattles loudly. Did they take you both? If so, where is she, and why isn't she with you? Did they find Joel? You think about how weak he was when you left, how he could barely hold his own knife, and how delirious he was. Your teeth grind together as you try to shrink back tears at the thought of him dying alone in that stupid basement. Your thoughts are interrupted by a door opening, and you look up enough to see the familiar man walking through the door.

David pauses by the swinging door once he sees you're awake. His eyes rake over your injuries with an alarming lack of care, and you shift in the chair. Your shoulders scream in pain, and you wince, but Ellie stays at the forefront of your mind.

"Where is she?" You ask. David grabs a chair from one of the tables and sets it in front of you. He's close enough that you can smell sweat and grime on him. You straighten up, making yourself as big as possible, as he sits across from you and stares at you intently.

"I was starting to worry about you," he says, and you let out a shaky breath. "How are you feeling?"

"Where the fuck is she?"

"She's alive. That's all you need to know right now."

"Let me see her."

"I'm afraid you're not in the position to be demanding things," he says as he rubs his hands together. You glance at the door he came through and make a mental note. She has to be through there. She would be able to hear you if you called for her. Does she know how close you are? "Are you her mother?"

"Fuck you."

"You're feisty just like she is. If you're not her mother, you must be the closest thing to it," he says. You try not to let his words settle over your bones. No mother would fail her child the way you've failed her, the way you're actively failing her. "She wouldn't tell me anything about the man, but she asked if you were okay. She cares a lot about you two."

"Is he here?" You hate how small you sound when you ask about him. David smirks, and your skin crawls.

"Not yet, no. We're looking for him now," he says. "My people are dead set on vengeance. It's a good thing I went out with them this morning. Otherwise, you'd both be dead."

"Lucky us."

"I know you didn't kill Alec, and I'm sorry you've traveled with such an angry man for so long. Once we find him, we'll bring him to justice, and you'll be free," he says like he's offering you a one-way ticket to Heaven. "We have room within our group. You and your daughter could live here safely. Start a new life."

"So, you want someone to pay for the loss of life? Is that it? You kidnapped me and a fucking kid to settle a score?"

"In a sense." He sighs. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about Ellie. She has to be fucking terrified right now— alone, hungry, and maybe hurt. She's strong, though. She could find Joel and move him to a safer location. You've seen her hold her own before, and you trust her as much as you trust Joel. She doesn't need you, but she needs Joel.

"If you let her go, I'll settle your score. Whatever you need to end this shit. I'll call him off, and they'll leave and never come back." You decide. David sits back in his chair as he considers your offer, your sacrifice.

"You really think a man like him would just leave you here?"

"He'd do anything I asked him to," you say. "Just let her go. This isn't her fight, and I think you know that."

"Why do you care so much about him? He's a murderer."

"So am I. I've done really shitty things to stay alive, things I can never tell her about. I'm not a good person."

"But he is?"

"He's trying to be," you say, catching sight of the Bible sitting on a nearby table. You let yourself soften just enough. "Isn't that what you're all about? Salvation and redemption and sacrificing yourself for the greater good? That girl is his chance at redemption, maybe his last one. They need each other way more than they need me."

"You love him." It's not a question. It's a statement like pointing at the clouds gathering on the horizon and announcing there will be a storm— obvious and beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Let them go. Please." You breathe. David sits silently, tapping his fingers together, before standing and wordlessly walking through the door he came in from. A tear falls from your eye, but you quickly wipe it on your shirt sleeve. You listen for voices as the building creaks against the force of the blizzard outside before twisting your wrists against the rope. The burn makes you grit your teeth, but the slow loosening is enough for you to continue.

You don't have a plan for getting out of here alive, only a plan for distracting David long enough for Ellie to escape and find Joel. They can take care of each other. They'll finish what we started. They'll be okay. You repeat it like a gospel, like a blind truth that you have to follow because you can't afford to think differently. You hope she understands that this is the last thing you want. That if you could've kept her safe forever, you would've. That abandoning her and Joel was never in the cards. You hope she knows that you love her.

Ellie shouts from the other room, but you can't make out her words. The silence that follows makes you sick to your stomach. You would take her nonstop talking over this eerie stillness. Your fingers search for a weak spot in the ropes as blood drips down your hands.

"Hey!" A gruff voice rings out from the other side of the room, and you freeze. One of David's men walks over to stand in front of you, a heavy semi-automatic weapon in his hands. When you look down the barrel, a gold bullet stares back at you, but you can't look away.

"Did you find him?" You ask. Something uncertain flickers behind his eyes, and that's enough of an answer. There's a chance, however minuscule, that he's alive and out there and trying to find both of you. A dull and dangerous ball of hope forms between your broken ribs. "We can end this here. If you just let us go, we can put this all behind us."

"And if I don't? You'll what? Kill us just like you killed Alec?"

"Oh, no. You'd be lucky to die as fast as he did," you say. "After what you did to her, you really think I'd just let you die that easily? I'll rip all your fucking teeth out of your skull and feed them to you before I even think about putting a bullet in your head." Terror flashes across his face, but Ellie's screams keep it growing. The man in front of you turns toward the sound, giving you a window to slip your hands from the loose ropes and grab at his gun. You push it up and away from him, a stray bullet singing through the air and hitting the ceiling. He shoves you back, and the chair breaks as you hit the ground so hard that you see stars.

David rushes in from the other room, blood splattering his clothes— her blood. He looks pissed as he assesses the situation, holding his hand tightly. "I offer you a home here, and this is what you do," Your molars buzz as molten rage rolls off you. David lunges at you, grabbing your face with one hand and holding up the other so you can see his broken finger. You try to squirm away from him, but his grip is tight enough for your jaw to creak with the threat of it shattering. "Look what she fucking did to me! You think you're going to get any sympathy now?" His breath is hot on your face as he shouts, but Ellie's blood is the only thing you care about. You spit in his eyes and wrestle out of his grasp, reaching for a piece of splintered wood. A warning shot fires by your ear before you can lift it, and splitting, ringing pain slices through your brain.

Your heart beats in your face as you try to army crawl further away, shaking your head hard like it will release the muffled pain. A swift kick to your ribs knocks you down, and you roll onto your back, pressing on the broken rib as you try to breathe. David and David's Bitch (you honestly don't care to learn his name, and that title is more fitting anyway) stare down at you with their guns in your direction. David tsks as he steps forward to stand over you, too close for your comfort. You move to put space between you, but he kicks you again. You gasp and bite your tongue hard enough to taste blood.

"I can't wait for your guy to show up so he can see just how pathetic you actually are." He threatens and you laugh, spitting blood.

"Trust me, he's the least of your fucking problems right now." You say, planting your hands behind you to push yourself off the floor. The butt of a pistol cracks across your skull before you can get far.

"No!" Ellie's voice jolts you awake. Your vision is blurry, and the throbbing pain in your body makes you nauseous, but none of that matters as much as she does. Her screams are the stuff of nightmares, helpless and scared out of her fucking mind. You push off the floor, forcing yourself to walk toward the sound until your foot stops moving. You look down to find a rope tied around your right foot, connecting you to one of the pillars in the middle of the room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You say as you bend down to try pulling it off of you. There's no time. She needs you now. Tears form in your eyes as the rope burns the skin around your ankle, drawing blood. You look around for a knife, glass, anything to help you cut it but find nothing. She's stopped screaming, but that doesn't do anything to stop you from trying to get to her. The blood dripping into your socks makes the rope slippery and stains your hands when you finally get it off. You stand so fast that you get a headrush but don't stop until Ellie's body collides with yours. She's covered in blood and almost screams until she realizes who you are.

"I... I thought. I heard..." She says, clutching your shirt in between her hands. You shake your head as you grab her and run to the doors. They barely budge as you try to push them open, and Ellie grabs your hand, running into the kitchen. She's shaking, and her hair is a mess as she looks around for something to fight with.

"Ellie, we need to go. We can't stay here." You say as she grabs a smoldering log.

"Cover me." She says, barely looking at you before rushing back out to hide near the door. You grab a knife and duck under a nearby table as David walks in with a bloody cleaver. You grip the knife closer, hoping to slash his Achilles tendon as he walks by when Ellie pops up and throws the log at David's head. The curtain behind him catches fire as you try to track her movements. She stays low and quiet, just like Joel taught her, and you have half a mind to be proud of her for listening.

"There's no way out," David calls as the fire travels up the curtain to the ceiling. He's pacing calmly away from you as the building starts to go up in flames around us. "All the doors are locked, and I have the keys. Nobody is coming to save you, Ellie." You move to the kitchen once his back is turned to you, hoping to find a bottle or bigger knife to distract him. Ellie meets your eyes across the room, and you nod at her, a silent reassurance that you will not let anything happen to her. You find a half-full bottle of wine and quickly dump it down the drain as David rambles about something. You stay low as you look out the kitchen window and throw the bottle to the other side of the room, the last bits of alcohol making the flames grow bigger. You duck when David turns toward the sound and walk back to the swinging door, waiting for the right moment to come out.

A piece of ceiling falls in front of the door, and flames lick under it, just as you hear Ellie stab David. You turn to jump through the kitchen window when one of David's guys enters the room and locks eyes with you. You've got to be fucking kidding me. You swing the knife at him, slicing his arm as he brings his gun up to shoot. The long shotgun pushes at your chest and sends you backward as blood pours from his arm. You hit the edge of the counter hard but stay up and swinging. The man grunts right in your face, and the fire is tearing the building apart, but all you hear is Ellie. She's screaming louder than you've ever heard, and she's calling for you, for help. You swing the knife once more and hit something squishy that gives. The man sobs in pain, and you dig the knife further into his eye until he stops twitching.

Once he hits the ground, you jump through the kitchen window and dive onto the floor below, fire burning your arms as you do. You grip the knife closer to you and stand until you see the full sight of Ellie and David. She's on top of him and hitting him over and over and over again with his cleaver. Blood splatters across her face and clothes as David becomes less of a body and more of a stain. You don't try to stop her. You just drop your knife and slowly walk into her line of sight with your hands up. By the time she stops raising her arms to hack the body, she's crying and breathing hard enough for you to hear her over the flames.

"Ellie," you call, and she jumps like she forgot you were there. The look in her eyes now is so different from the one she gave you earlier when you tried to tell her nothing terrible would happen. It's familiar and heart breaking. She's shaking when you reach for her and pull her off of David. "We need to go, okay? We gotta get out of here." You wrap your arms around her and shield her eyes as you walk past the bodies she left in her wake.

The snow is a welcome relief from the smothering smoke and fire when you leave the building. Ellie stays tucked under your arm, letting you take her weight as you move toward the blue water, away from David and whatever god failed you. Her shoulders fall slack until a pair of arms wrap around us, and she screams again. Your grip on her tightens as she cries and kicks at whoever is trying to grab you. She nearly falls to her knees as the arms spin her around, taking her away from you.

"Hey, look," Joel's voice is soft as he holds her face. You let him take her and take a step back, trying to process that he's alive. "It's me. It's me. It's okay."

"He tried to..." Ellie mumbles, and you have to turn away from them, vomit burning in your throat. You swallow hard as tears fall down your face and do your best to hold your sobs. "He tried to" is a sentence you've heard too many times but never from someone as young as Ellie. He tried to, and you were right there. He tried to, and you couldn't do anything. He tried to, and she was screaming for you. If David weren't already dead and burning, you'd go back and rip his fucking spine out. He tried to.

Joel saying your name makes you turn to see Ellie wrapped in his jacket, a faraway look in her eyes. You take her backpack from him and go to his other side to snake your arm around his back. He's shaking either from fear or pain. You don't know that it matters. Together, you work to get somewhere safe, helping to carry the weight of the past three months silently.

You found an empty house a few miles away from the resort and let Joel clean Ellie up in the bathroom. She clung to him the whole way here, trembling bloody hands wrapped around his middle. The cut on her nose is gnarly, and she has slices on her fingers from gripping the knife she used to kill David. Other than that, she's more mentally scarred than anything. As soon as she was clean and fed with twenty-year-old Spaghetti-O's, she fell asleep on Joel's chest, her bandaged hand resting over his heart as they lay on the floor together. The words you said to David while begging for their lives surround you. They need each other way more than they need me.

You feel like shit now that the adrenaline has died down. There are burns on your forearms, cuts on your hands, bruises swelling your face, and you're pretty sure the hearing in your left ear is permanently fucked. Your head pounds and your ribs twinge in pain when you breathe too deeply, but it's nothing compared to the screams echoing in your mind. They'll probably embed in your brain and repeat themselves for the rest of your life. You've never heard her scream like that— deep in her chest and desperate, like she was praying for someone to hear her and help, to kill the men who put their hands on her and then some.

He tried to.

Joel calls your name softly, but you can't turn to face him. Your eyes stay on the front door, the cool metal of your gun warming under your palm. "You should sleep," Joel murmurs as he puts a comforting hand on your back. He's careful not to jostle Ellie as he rubs circles into your skin. You shake your head as your fingers twitch against the gun.

"I was asleep when she," your voice catches in your throat, and you wipe at your eyes. "I didn't even hear her leave. I can't…."

"She's safe, and she's alive. That's the most important thing."

"I was so fucking scared, Joel. I could hear her screaming, and I couldn't do anything to help her," you sniffle as he tugs at your shirt, making you turn to look at him. His eyes are watery and sad, but he doesn't stop you. "The fucking apocalypse happened, and the scariest thing in the world is still a man who thinks he can take whatever he wants."

"I know, baby."

"I can still hear his voice. I-” He pulls you closer and gently takes the gun out of your hands. Slowly, he makes you lie beside him until you relax and use his bicep as a pillow. You're close enough to count the cuts on Ellie's sleeping face, and you almost wiggle away. Joel feels it and quickly kisses your forehead, his grip on you tightening enough to make you stay.

"Let me lay with my girls," he whispers before you can protest. "Please." You sigh and curl into him, wrapping your arm around his stomach, so your fingers can graze Ellie's arm. He traces patterns into your back as you count Ellie's breaths. Every rise and fall of her chest soothes your anxiety just a little more. Her nose scrunches in her sleep, and she mumbles something as her grip on Joel gets tighter. He shushes her and kisses her forehead, whispering, "we're right here, baby girl," into her temple. Then, probably without even realizing it, she moves her hand until it covers yours, her little fingers squeezing you like she's trying to decide if you're real. You take her hand in yours and squeeze back.

It’s moments like these that make you wonder how you could've gone so long without her. It's moments like these that make you wonder how you could ever go back to the life you had before. It's moments like these that give you a glimpse, a torturous peek, into what could've been. If you had met Joel earlier and had been faster and less guarded, maybe your paths may have crossed sooner. Maybe all those people you loved who died would still be alive somewhere. Maybe nothing would've changed at all.

"I'm so scared of losing her," You tell him, your eyes still stuck to Ellie's face. Joel takes a deep breath and nods. "When did she stop being cargo?"

"She was never just cargo."

"What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna get her to the Fireflies. They'll do whatever they need, and then, I don't know. We could take her back to Jackson and get her settled. Let her have an actual childhood." He says. A regular, ordinary life with them sounds idyllic, something reserved for people way better than you are.

"What if something bad happens with the Fireflies?"

"Then, we do whatever it takes to keep her alive. Either way, we're gonna finish this."

"Whatever it takes." You echo.

"You should sleep," he says. Your body agrees with him even if you're hesitant. "I'll take the first watch. I've probably had enough sleep to last me, at least, a couple of hours." You stare at him to make sure he's okay to stay up before nodding. You squeeze Ellie's hand again and smoosh your cheek against Joel's shoulder, perfectly wrapped up in both of them. Joel goes back to rubbing your back to lull you to sleep, and all you can hear is their breathing and the birds singing to each other outside. Fireflies, ruthless FEDRA officers, Infected, and religious cults are far enough for you to trust that everything is okay.

"Joel," you say quietly. He hums, and you push yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. "I love you. I don't think I ever told you that, but I want you to know."

"You never had to. I always knew," he says, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "I love you, too." You want to say more. You want to say, "I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. I'm sorry if it's too late. I'm sorry for falling in love with you in this world that makes love a weakness," but you don't. You lean down and kiss him like you've done hundreds of times and try not to think about what will happen tomorrow.

The only thing you care about is the two people you're curled up within an old, mildewy basement in the middle of fucking Colorado because they are your world now. And nothing will take your world away ever again.

🍓

#the last of us #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou part 1 #tlou fic #tlou angst #joel miller angst #ellie williams angst

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