#post apocalyptic fic

[kiaxet]

HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH

Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?

~~~~~~~

Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.

He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-

And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.

Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-

He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"

Leo is on the floor.

Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.

For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-

"Leo!"

He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"

He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.

This almost didn't happen.

"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"

Donnie almost couldn't save him.

"Grrhh-"

Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-

"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"

And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-

Oh for fuck's sake.

"Hey. Are you even listening?"

Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"

And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.

He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"

And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"

For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-

And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-

Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-

But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.

It's Leo. It's Leo-

And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.

He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?

Oh.

"I'm sorry I..uh…"

He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?

…yeah, it's all of the above.

He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.

It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.

And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.

~~~~~~~

Donnie is yelling at him.

Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.

Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.

And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.

It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-

-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?

(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)

He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"

The Krang show you what you want to see.

The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-

And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-

But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-

"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-

And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.

And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-

And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-

And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-

It's something the Krang could never imitate.

This is real. This is all real-

He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.

And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.

It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.

His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.

Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?

"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"

"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.

"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.

"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-

Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.

He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.

But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-

Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.

Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.

He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.

Well.

Uh.

"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.

~~~~~~~

(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)

(What the fuck, indeed.)

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #future leo #future donnie #fic #writing #cw sibling death #mention of it at least #referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up #we have fun here #no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT #I GUESS #twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM #inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up #I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both #which is WHY it's 2K+ words #it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted #fuck it we ball

[greenglowsgold]

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

                              -----

                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

                                                            April.

                                                                                                                        Casey.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.

                                                                                                                         There’s light.

                                                            It hurts.

                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #Rise of the TMNT #fic I write #*looks at the word count* haha. anyway. i'm normal. #Donnie's expressions when he looks at his family one last time are so fuckin good they're so clear #I looked at him and I was like 'oh cool I can literally read his mind' #which may or may not be true (you tell me) but holy shit was it effective #(please @god let the formatting of this post hold)

[starry-eyes-love]

Chapter 6- You're Forever Mine

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary | Things finally boil to a steaming head between you and Joel. After much discussion Joel decides to spend the night sleeping next to you to help calm you. He reads you a steamy bedtime story and then holds you after you wake up from a horrible nightmare (please read warnings about nightmare below before reading). You get a major dark glimpse into the reader's past and how she met Joel (he's the savior in her story). 

Important Note:  This chapter has a lot of very graphic scenes that are mentioned that happen to the f!reader during a dreamstate nightmare flashback. If you don’t want to read about these types of details, then skip the flashback scene at the Boston QZ five years prior in the story.  You can still understand the story without reading the flashback scene. See warnings below. 

Words: 12.0 K (I’m not sorry)

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really screwed up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be.  If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a monster. Please.”

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI for whole story

Flashback: Dark content during flashback with David (aka Dave): language, vio!ence, abu$e mentions several types, name calling, degrading references, death, b!ood and gore (please see note above, you have been warned this is very dark content). 

Rest of story: Smut, language, Joel begging (it deserves it’s own warning), heavy knife references, references to abuse, tension (a lot scattered about), Joel referencing death and death of his daughter, angst, f fingering, m handjob, a lot of smutty parts (you have been warned), use of the word ‘love’, Joel and the reader being an ass (hey it’s relationship dynamics), Joel reading smut out loud to F!Reader (yeah, we’re doing it), fluffy parts sprinkled in, breast feeding kink via smutty book read from Joel, size kink, daddy kink, age gap (not disclosed), body reference (without being too specific), g spot reference, name calling (baby, honey, little girl, etc.)…and I think that is it.  Finally the heat is turning up with these two. Enjoy :) 

Story

Joel was wound up tight, stressed, and not in a good way. This thing between the two of you was starting to boil to a head and he didn't like it. He hated this back and forth that was going on. He hated that he didn't know from one day to the next if he was going to scream at you for fucking up his life, even in the best possible way. Or if he was going to give in and fuck you, just to get out all of his pent up frustration.  God, he needed to relieve himself. It had been way too long, and this constant edging between the two of you was giving him the worst case of blue balls that he could ever imagine. He wanted to bury himself so badly inside of you, throw caution out of the window and give in to his body's needs to have you. That was what it was now, a deep rooted need to release all of his anxiety, anger, and pent up frustration of trying to be the good guy for you.

Joel wasn't a good man, he knew it. Sure, at one time he could be gentle, tender, and loving. He suspected that those emotions were still buried deep inside of him. But ever since the world went to shit, Joel had to survive. He had to kill people in order to survive, and he'll do it again if he must. But you, you were different. You were kind, soft, gentle, but also a fierce woman. There was no one on this Earth that Joel feared more than you, especially when you were pissed off at him. 

Joel saw first hand how you handled frustration. You'd bottle it up inside and then explode later. He'd seen how you’d kill people with your knife, how you'd keep stabbing them long after they were dead to release that anger that you had. An anger that he was just starting to understand. People wronged you in life, took your innocence far before they should have. This fact made Joel want to scream and see red whenever he thought about it. People had prayed upon you, took advantage of you at your weakest, and he wasn't ever going to let that happen again.

Joel also hated seeing you feel weak. It didn't bother him that you couldn't do everything, hell Joel couldn't grow plants, and yet here you were making it work slowly in the house. You had your strengths; the ability to find things hidden, anticipate things, and even take a mothering role with Ellie.  But one of your best abilities, Joel thought, was your ability to get underneath his goddamn skin and drive him crazy. This fact alone pissed him off, but also excited him because he loved your fire, attitude, and passion in life. The worst part, you knew you had this effect on him.

Joel was lost in thought, thinking about you when you were showing Ellie how to string together a bow and how to sharpen a knife. God, it turned him on to hear you direct her on how to stab and kill people.  He knew that you could survive in this world, even if he wasn’t around.  Most men wouldn’t like this type of independence or fierceness, but for Joel, this was the biggest turn on. The only thing that he wished for was for your nightmares to quit haunting you.

"And you turn it like this to secure it" you said to Ellie, showing Ellie how to finish attaching the string for a bow.

"That's so fucking cool y/n. Joel, you did a great job showing her this," Ellie said looking at the bow amazed.

"Not my doing Ellie, that's something she knew all on her own." Joel said, taking a slow sip of the whiskey that he was holding, a small find he got from the cellar outside.

"Seriously? You knew something Joel didn't?" Ellie asked, looking at you shocked. 

"Who do you think taught him how to thread it?" you said with a smirk.

Ellie glanced over at Joel, who started to blush and rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.  "Don't make fun of me darlin’" he said, shaking his head and laughing at how shocked Ellie looked that you had actually taught him how to do something. 

"But Joel, I thought you like knew everything," Ellie said, pushing his buttons on purpose.

"I don't know everything, never have kid. And you,” he said shaking a finger at you, “Stop that damn smiling and laughing over there." You were quietly sitting on the floor next to Ellie, softly laughing to yourself at Ellie's statement, watching her push Joel’s buttons. The amusement of this entire situation was just as much for your enjoyment as it was hers.

"Didn't say anything" you said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.

"Look here smartass, I may not know how to make what you're doing" he said waving his hand, jestering towards the bow. "But you better believe I know how to shoot that darn thing." And with that you stopped laughing and got up. Shooting a bow was always a touchy subject, one that Joel knew you had.

You walked to the kitchen and started washing your hands, not that you needed to, but it was something to do to get your hands to calm down at the memory. Joel could sense your unease as Ellie continued teasing him.  Joel was only half listening to her, the person he was paying attention to was you.  He saw the way your breathing spiked and became labored, he also saw how your hands were shaking when you went past him. At the sink he saw you vigorously rub your hands underneath the water, acting like you were trying to wash off the signs of blood, which he knew was yours that you were seeing and remembering. Damn it, he thought, she’s having another fucking flashback.

As Ellie continued talking, Joel stood up and approached you slowly in the kitchen. When he approached you and saw that you were still rubbing your hands fast together, scrubbing hard and not acknowledging him, he slowly wrapped his arms around you. He placed his hands on top of yours under the water and said "leave it baby. He's not here. Come on.”  Joel then shut off the water, took your hands that were still trembling, and turned you into his chest. As he slowly caged you in his arms he began to slowly rub his hand up and down your back, humming that little tune to you that he did all of those years before. 

What you didn't realize was that you were shaking so bad in Joel’s arms that Ellie had noticed.  Ellie approached the pair of you and said "Joel is she ok? She's shaking really bad and she looks like she's-"

"She's fine Ellie, don't worry” you heard Joel say. When you glanced up at him you felt a single tear leave your eye, and a horrible tremor went through your body at the memory of the last time you attempted to shoot a bow. “You're ok, shh I got you" Joel said, while tucking you gently back into his chest, and wrapping you up in his arms. “Just listen to my voice baby, just me” and then he began slowly humming that song to you again.  

As he continued to comfort you, you felt him gently sway you back and forth, rubbing your back, and planting kisses to the top of your head. Your mind was so far in the past that you didn’t hear Joel tell Ellie to give you guys a few minutes alone. The only thing that you could hear was the ringing in your ears at a memory that you wanted to forget.  ‘Stupid bitch. *Smack* I'll teach you a fucking lesson. *Smack, Smack.*’  Even after all these years, you still could feel the sting on your skin from the abuse Dave did. As soon as you involuntarily flinched at the memory of a hard hand to your face, you felt Joel tighten his grip around you while saying "it's gone. He's gone. You're safe with me baby, shhh. It's ok," and then he went back to humming that song that you loved until the memory of Dave left you once again.

You didn't know how long you stood there embraced in Joel’s arms before you heard him say "do ya want me to sleep next to you tonight baby?" When you didn’t answer he pulled away and then gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Might make the bad nightmares stay away if I sleep next to you honey," he continued in a soothing voice. You had to admit, not sleeping next to Joel has made the nightmares come back with a vengeance. You haven't hardly slept in weeks, which meant you were more susceptible to bad dreams and horrible flashbacks.

"I don't want to be a burden on you," you said.

"Ain't a burden love, never have been."

"Joel I-" you began to say before Joel interrupted you.

"Come on, let's get you tucked into bed darlin,' you look exhausted." Joel then took your hand and led you into your bedroom, holding your hand the entire way. Once inside of your bedroom he quickly got you situated sitting on the bed. “Hang on a sec,” he said and then disappeared back down the hall.  After a few moments Joel reappeared with a worn out old flannel. He handed it to you and said "here, put this on. It’s mine and I know you like the way I smell."

Slightly embarrassed and turning a shade of red you took his flannel and said “thanks.” You did like how Joel smelled, but you didn’t think he knew it. “We both are getting comfortable tonight love” he said as he chucked a set of comfy pajamas for himself on the bed. 

"Wow, aren't we both domestic" you said, shaking your head at seeing Joel change into an old T-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants. 

“Yeah, well, I need it. And by the looks of ya, so do you darlin.’” Joel smirked as he unbuckled his pants and slowly took them off while looking at you. You knew you needed to turn away, but when you noticed Joel removing his boxers, you couldn't help but stare. God he was big. You could see that even in his softened state that his cock hung heavy between his legs. You didn't realize that you were staring with a slightly open mouth until you heard his Southern drawl.

“Baby, nothin’ good comes outta you looking at me like that. Come on, eyes up here darlin.’” Joel said teasing you.

You immediately felt embarrassed at what you were doing, starring at a grown man’s crotch.  Yes he was your boyfriend, but you didn’t have that type of relationship with him at the moment.  “Oh God Joel, I’m so sorry” you said, burying your head in your hands and turning 20 shades of red.

Joel chuckled and said “Baby, I love you looking. But I don't think it's the proper answer right now to our problems of lack of sleep between the both of us. So come on, let's get you changed and tucked into bed honey.”  When you didn’t move Joel walked up to you and gently grabbed your hands and said “Come on, arms up for me.”  When you slowly raised your arms above your head, Joel lifted your shirt up as you kept your eyes closed.

“Angel, open your eyes and look at me” he gently whispered.  When you did, you found that he met you with dark intense eyes, like a wolf who just found his prey. As you looked at him you noticed that he lightly licked his lips while he eye fucked you. You noticed that he slowly looked down your chest, tracing the curve of your breasts with his eyes.  When you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, Joel just about fainted.  

“Fuuck” Joel growled, looking at you standing before him with nothing covering your chest. If he was a better man he'd turn around and give you privacy, but he wasn't. It had been too long since he had a beautiful woman standing before him half naked. When you slowly bent down and pulled off your pants and panties, Joel almost came right there on the spot. 

As you stood in front of Joel completely naked, you found yourself slowly tracing your hands along your curves. You cupped your breasts and said “do you want to touch them?” as you slowly twisted your nipple while letting out a soft moan. 

“Baby, you- you can’t do this. Fuck woman, I’m-I’m not gonna be able to-” Joel said, slowly reaching out to touch you, but stopping midway before he did. He wanted to put his hands overtop yours, to feel the softness of your plump breasts underneath his callused hands. But Joel knew he couldn't, while shaking his head he said in a low voice “look at me scolding ya about starring, and I’m doing no different. Finish getting dressed, and let's go to bed baby.”  

With a satisfied smirk you turned your back to place on his flannel, and then buttoned it up. You decided to forgo putting your bra back on. You grabbed a pair of clean black lace panties, a rare find but something that you were glad you found in storage. As you turned around you saw Joel staring at you wide eyed. “Baby, I- that’s not” he said, glancing between your chest and ass. He was trying to figure out how he was supposed to sleep next to you tonight, knowing you were practically naked next to him.

“Look here cowboy,” you said in a sarcastic tone. “I ain’t sleeping fully clothed so you can just fuck right off now if ya think I should.” When you approached your side of the bed, you froze.  Chewing on your lip for a moment you finally asked, “is it safe for us to be dressed like this and all relaxed Joel?” You stared down at yourself, picking at the edges of your clothes, thinking that how you were dressed was both silly and stupid. 

When Joel glanced over at you, he noticed your meek expression, lack of confidence, and the fact that you were chewing on your lip in a worried state.  Sleeping fully relaxed in this world wasn’t something anyone could afford to do anymore, but he knew it was something that you both desperately needed tonight.  "I put up new defenses around here. I also installed two deadbolt locks to the door. I think for one night we can let our guard down a bit. I don't know about you baby, but I need one night where I'm not on the fucking edge. I'm so wound up honey that I-”. That's when Joel saw it, fear mixed with longing behind your eyes, and that was a dangerous combination. With clearing his throat he added, “ya darlin’, it’s safe for tonight.”

Joel wasn't kidding about needing to be comfortable.  He had reading glasses, a book, and a lamp that was turned on, giving the room a soft glow.  When he sat down, he sat with his back against the wall. His rifle and his knife were set next to the bed, just in case. After he was situated, he looked over at you and said "come on baby, come to bed" while patting your side of the bed.

Shaking your head and giggling slightly you said, "I never would have thought in a million years that Mr. Joel Miller would actually say 'come on baby, come to bed.’ Kind of a special occasion, if ya ask me."

Joel glared at you and then quipped, "ok smartass, just lay down and don’t give me any more of your sass."

Smiling to yourself at his little quip, you laid down next to him, facing him. After you got situated, Joel tucked the blankets over you, bent down, and kissed the top of your head saying "now go to sleep baby." He then put his reading glasses on as he sat there and silently started reading to himself. 

As you laid there you listened to Joel slowly breathe. You focused on trying to match your breaths with his, and in time you felt yourself finally starting to relax. The longer Joel read, the more you saw his muscles unclench, and his brows unfurrow. You laid there curled up in his flannel, holding the sleeve up by your nose, while slowly inhaling his scent. Joel was right, you did love the way he smelled.  He smelled of pine, cinnamon, wood, and Joel.  An intoxicating scent that left your head spinning, but also something that you could describe as home. You were somewhat in a daze, thinking about stuff that has recently happened when all of a sudden you heard Joel say, "Ya need to stop thinking so hard." 

"What?" You said, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to focus.

"You're thinking too hard darlin’," he said, still reading his book.

"How am I thinking too hard?"

"Baby, you're breathing hard, shifting your legs, and sighing to yourself."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize that I was doing any of that" you replied in a meek voice.

"S'alright darlin'. What were ya thinking about anyways?" When you didn’t respond, Joel stopped and looked over at you. 

"Just wondering where you found those glasses" was all that you said.

Joel cocked his head saying "that’s bullshit darlin'. That's not what's got ya all twisted up. But to answer your question, I found these in the cellar outside. They're regular reading glasses, and just so happens they’re the type of ones I need.” Joel then returned to reading his book.  

You laid there quietly, chewing on your lip and thinking about some things that were bugging you a lot recently.  Somehow Joel must have seen you out of his peripheral vision as he said with a sigh, “So what are you really thinking 'bout?"

“Just wondering what you’re reading?” you said, pressing your thighs together, not wanting to voice your actual true concerns. Laying this close to Joel wasn’t helping your sex drive.  You haven’t been able to get yourself off recently due to how stressed out you were. But tonight your mind kept wandering to what Joel looked like when he changed in front of you, and you wondered how he'd feel again inside of you. You couldn't believe how delicious his cock looked, all hanging heavy between his legs.  You could practically feel the rush of arousal out of you when you saw him earlier. You didn’t think that telling Joel, nor asking for his help, would be appropriate tonight. You remembered how he dealt with your starring earlier.  He told you that you two shouldn't do anything, and for you to stop.

Joel looked over at you as you kept shifting under the covers. He knew that you really didn't want to know what he was reading. But Joel wasn’t in the mood to argue with you tonight. Replying with a bit more sarcasm than he intended Joel said, “a book darlin.’ I’m reading a damn book.”

“No shit sherlock, I know you’re reading a book Joel” you said with a sarcastic eye roll.  After a moment of shifting around uncomfortably again you added, “can you, um, maybe read it to me out loud?”

Joel froze and looked over at you. “Darlin’, this ain’t one of those types of books.”

“I know what type of book it is Joel, Jesus. I know the author. She likes little Westerns that have two people- um. You know they- uh. They-

“Fuck.” Joel said, finally looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“W-what?” you said, looking back up at him with innocent eyes.

“She has them fuck darlin’, is that what you’re trying so hard not to say? You're fumbling with your words and acting worse than a toddler trying to talk.” he said, while closing the book and looking at you. 

“Jesus Joel, an asshole much?” you snapped, completely turning red at his reference. Tonight was just not your night, so you turned away from Joel and laid there facing the other direction. You mumbled under your breath “you know, you can just fuck off. You don’t even understand what it feels like to not have someone want to fuck you, or to not be able to get yourself off.” 

If Joel had to describe your mood tonight it would be moody, emotional, and down right irritating.  Of course he understood what it was like to want to be with someone.  Jesus, you were wearing his flannel with black panties on with no bra.  He hadn’t had sex with anyone, specifically you, in months. He's attempted to get himself off, but again hasn't been able to. He also understood what it felt like to be frustrated, and God damnit, he wanted to smack some sense into your ass at that statement you just said. God help me, this woman is trying my fucking patience tonight, he thought.

For the next several minutes you heard Joel silently turning the pages of his book.  Usually the silence wouldn't bother you, but tonight your nerves were on fire. All you wanted was for your so-called boyfriend to kiss you, make out with you, do something to take away these weird feelings that you had. You were hopeful that laying in bed next to him was going to lead to maybe some other things.  Hell, that’s why you agreed to lay next to him in the first place. But apparently Joel wasn’t interested.  Truth be told, he never really was interested in you anymore.  So with another big sigh, you realized that you were just going to be sexually frustrated for a while. Yeah, great, fucking perfect.

Joel was attempting to unwind by reading the book he held.  God, he was wired.  He was so turned on and sexually frustrated by watching you earlier that he wanted nothing more than to bury his aching cock deep within your warm walls. He could practically smell your arousal tonight, the honey sweet aroma that he knew and grew to love. He thought reading a simple Western would help him calm his nerves.  What he didn’t realize was that the author wrote a lot of graphic sex scenes in the book. And those graphic sex scenes weren't helping his frustration nor the hard on he had for you.

After a moment of contemplating, and hearing you sigh once again, he decided to say fuck it, and read out loud to you.  What’s the worst that could happen, he thought, if anything maybe tonight I’ll finally get fucking laid.  So with a big inhale, and deep exhale, Joel started reading to you out loud.  

“After a night of blissful romance, by morning’s first light he was gone again. She could tell by the way the growing baby in her belly was kicking, that it missed their Papa as much as she missed her strong man. She tried convincing herself that he’d be back before winter, but she knew deep in her heart that was not the case.  Winter turned into spring, and with it, came the birth of her son, Joshua.  Giving birth was hard, especially when her man wasn’t by her side. But the neighbor lady, a woman who had 5 children, helped her with the process. Then one day when Joshua was 3 months old, a familiar Southern drawl came from across the room “fuck darlin’, ain’t you beautiful.”

As Joel read out loud, you turned back around to face him.  You glanced up and saw how his natural curls slowly swayed at the turn of each page. How he’d use his tongue to gently lick his finger right before he’d turn the page. You also saw how Joel would periodically lick his lower lip, as a way to moisten it as he slowly read out loud to you.

“He watched her from across the room as she fed his son. After not being around a woman for many months, he found the soft suckling noises, and the light bounce of her breast, as his son fed to be something exotic.  He slowly felt himself become hard at watching her nurse him.  There was something so incredibly sexy about a woman feeding his child, and he was desperate for proper release.  He found a chair in the corner of the room and slowly took a seat.  He quietly palmed his cock in his jeans at the sight of you.” 

 “When he watched you switch sides, he nearly exploded in his pants.  You left your other breast hanging out of your bra.  It swung heavy, gentle side to side motions as you rocked your son. He studied it, the curve and slope of your engorged tits. He saw a little bit of milk drip out from where his son had just finished feeding from you. God, he wanted to walk over there and pick up your heavy breasts and massage them.  He knew they hurt you, being twice the size from what they normally were, he could see how much they made you ache.  He also wanted to taste you, to lick the little drop of milk off from them, and then finish milking you dry with his mouth.  He wanted to taste the warm, wet rush of milk in his mouth as he suckled from you, nipped you, and got you to moan for him.  He knew your breasts were always so sensitive, but right now he knew he could get you to cum just by nursing from you himself. Feeling himself strain hard against his pants, he slowly unzipped himself and took out his aching member.” 

Joel stopped and took a deep breath to steady himself before reading on.  God his cock was fully erect right now, leaking precum and throbbing against the sheet.  He wanted you to put your mouth on it, to touch it, something to help relieve the desperate need and ache that he felt.  In an attempt to get this situation under control, before he made a fool of himself, he said in a breathy pant, “maybe uh, maybe we shouldn’t finish this darlin’, It ah, shit, it kinda gets really vulgar in a second.”

“Finish reading the fucking chapter Joel, please,” you said with a rush to your voice. When he glanced at you he could tell that you were just as worked up. You were sweating, your eyes were closed and your legs were closed tight.  You slowly rocked back and forth, trying to find a little bit of relief for the tension that was building fast in your core. God you two needed to blow off some steam together and soon. 

“Look here little girl” Joel said with a bite to his voice. “Don’t go and snap at me cause you’re fucking frustrated. I won’t keep readin’ if ya can’t be nice.” Joel then noticed you shuffle underneath the sheets, putting your hand in-between your legs, and pressing your legs together again while whispering “sorry, it’s just hard.”

As Joel sat there he watched how hard you were pressing your thighs together, gently rocking yourself into your hand. Fuck, you looked hot and bothered, and he was hard as hell.  He wanted to see how far you’d go to relieving yourself, so he continued reading out loud. 

“Up and down he stroked his cock, working himself up. He noticed a good amount of precum drip from his slit at the sight of the woman nursing. When she looked over at him he growled low saying, ‘when you’re done with him, you’re gonna come on over here and bounce on this dick properly darlin’.”

“After she was done nursing, and had put the babe down to bed, she slowly sauntered over to the man in the room. She had no intention of riding him, but she couldn’t help with how worked up she’d been, and how long it had been since she had a man between her legs.  She found herself straddling him and very slowly lowering herself down on his cock. When she was fully sheathed she started moving back and forth, up and down, and then back and forth. She worked him hard, giving him everything that she could with her hips, fucking him like she’d never see him again. The more she worked him, the more she felt that familiar coil tighten deep within her belly as her tits swayed and bounced in his face.”

“‘I feel it darlin’, keep fucking going’ he said as he started helping her rock faster into him and attaching his mouth to her nipple. When he bit down she yelped, saying ‘fuck yes, harder.’ He smiled as he continued to lick, nip, and suck her gorgeous swollen tits. He started meeting her thrust for thrust, jack hammering up into her, chasing his own high. ‘Why did I stop fucking this’ he said, moaning into her as he felt her walls flutter around him.

“‘Mama, I know you're close. Come on, give it to me’ he growled, grinding her hard on him. One, two, three hard thrusts in and she felt her coil snap hard in her stomach. She felt a gush of fluid rush his cock and then he tipped over the edge growling in her ear. He continued thrusting as he worked them both through their highs, grunting each other’s names in the process. As soon as they were done, he picked her up and took her to bed where he showed her what being home truly meant. They both tipped over the edge multiple times into eternal bliss, needing each other for forever more.”

When Joel finished reading the chapter he closed the book and heard himself panting hard. He looked over at you and saw that you had your eyes closed and was slowly rocking back and forth with your hand in-between your legs again panting hard. Fuck you looked hot.  As soon as you noticed Joel had stopped reading your eyes snapped open and you glared at him with blown out pupils.  

“Maybe uh-maybe we should uh-”

“Goodnight Joel” you whispered while you rolled over and laid there in silence. Joel just looked at you puzzled, about to ask if you wanted to maybe do something when you said “please turn out the light, I’m kinda tired and wanna go to bed.”

“Yeah sure” he said, turning out the light and slipping down into the bed.  Joel laid there staring at the ceiling, thinking when he said “do you wanna-”

“No, goodnight Joel.”

“Yeah, ok. Goodnight darlin.’” Joel laid there confused, not understanding what had happened. He didn’t know if you were embarrassed at him seeing you worked up or if he somehow hurt your feelings.  After laying in silence for a bit he was going to ask if you were ok.  But before he did, he heard you say “before you asked what I was thinking, I was just thinking what we're gonna do once we find Tommy. Like where do I go? Do I live with you or am I supposed to be on my own or what?”

Joel didn’t answer right away, as he didn't know the answer. This was something that the two of you hadn’t discussed. He wanted you to stay with him, but he didn’t want to force you to stay either.  Apparently his lack of communication right now upset you.  “Just forget I asked,” you said. “I'll just figure it out myself."  And with that you fell into a deep sleep.  But as you started to dream, your mind decided to recall a memory that you truly wanted to never remember again…

Dreamstate- Flashback to Boston, QZ- 5 years prior 

(graphic content)...if you want to skip this section go to “flashback end” in bold below to pick up the regular story again. Please read warnings before proceeding reading flashback, this is very dark content.

“You’re so fucking stupid, how can you not be able to do this. Like every dumb idiot can shoot a bow, well everyone except for you.” Dave snarled at you when you couldn’t even pull back the bow.

“Well I don’t know Dave, maybe teach me how to do it instead of ridiculing me. Like what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you acting like this? You’re supposed to be my boyfriend” you said, snapping at him.

“Boyfriend? Nope, I’m not your boyfriend” he said with venom, as he downed the last of the amber liquid in the glass bottle.  “Boyfriends are people you care about, and you honestly don’t give a fuck about me. So why should I care about you in return? You’re just a stupid liability that I have to deal with, and one that I can’t seem to get rid of.”

You watched Dave drink, knowing what was in store for you tonight. When Dave drank, he usually became violent with you. It was a standard routine that the two of you had, and one you were honestly sick of. You wanted out, that was for certain. You wanted to get as far away from this piece of shit guy as you could.

In order to cope and deal with the fact that you hated your life, and that you wanted out and away from Dave, you took another job. You were smuggling goods secretly on the black market of the QZ and Joel Miller was the man that you were working with. Tess, Joel’s partner, had approached you after she had seen bruises on your arms during your normal QZ job. Dave usually never gave you any bruises that people could visually see. But something recently happened, and he no longer cared.  So you walked around with bruises, where the world could see who you belonged to. When Tess saw this, it angered the hell out of her. So much so that she introduced you to Joel, in an attempt to help you earn enough money to get out and away from Dave.

“If you wanna get out of there, you come talk to me or Joel, and we’ll get you out, understand?” Tess said while working a shift with you. All you did was nod your head, but you didn't take her up on her offer until Dave broke your collarbone. That's the night you went to see Tess at home. She helped clean you up and then let you stay over. 

When Joel got home he said “what’s she doing here?” while pointing at you.

“She's spending the night Joel, she got roughed up a bit and needed care.”

Joel approached you and lightly grabbed your chin, examining the bruise that was forming on the side of your lip. “Better get some ice on that darlin’ before it swells.” That night Joel slept on the couch and insisted that Tess and you took the bed.

You started doing odd jobs on the side for Tess and Joel. Joel never questioned you of why you wanted the side jobs. Just like he never questioned you of why you had bruises on your arms or hickies on your neck.  The time you showed up with a swollen black eye though he said, “darlin’ it ain’t right what he’s doing, no guy is worth that.”

As Dave's anger increased, so did the extra jobs.  Tess and Joel threw every side job they had at you in an attempt to help you get enough money to leave. Finally after months of pulling double shifts, you had enough money to leave. This made you happy as you no longer had to feel afraid of Dave anymore, but you were so wrong. 

“You know what Dave, fine” you yelled snapping back at him. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I’ll just pack up my shit and-”

“Don’t flatter yourself Y/N, you know you ain’t leaving, where would you even go?” he said, baiting you.

“Anyplace other than with you Dave, so just fuck o-” 

“Where you just about to tell me to fuck off?” Dave said, sneering at you.  “Bad move honey. I may not be a genius, but I ain’t stupid. I found your extra stash of money, real sweet hiding it in a sock” Dave said while holding up the sock.  

Dave reached in and grabbed the wad of money that you had earned. When he started the money on fire with a lighter you yelled “what the fuck are you doing Dave? My god, don’t burn that.” You lunged at the sock to try to put out the fire.

Dave kept pushing you back until all the money was burnt to ash. You fell to your knees defeated and angry that he'd take this last bit from you. You heard him laugh behind you saying, “think again sweetheart, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now get the fuck up.” 

When you stood up you felt anger and bile rise up from the pit of your stomach. That was almost a year's worth of pay down the drain. You had pulled extra shifts, did side jobs, sometimes almost died, trying to save up enough money to leave. You put up with Dave’s shit, allowing him to mark you with his mouth when you hated the very sight of him, just so you could get up and do another job for cash. Now the asshole burned it up like ash, just so he could watch you seethe in anger. He didn’t care if he had extra money, money meant nothing to Dave. Power is what Dave craved. If money that you earned was going to take his power away from him, he'd burn it up just to make sure you'd lose all control.

When you turned around you didn’t care about playing nice anymore. When you first got to know Dave, you thought that he was someone who cared. You quickly found out that was a lie. “You’re an asshole” you yelled, smacking him hard across the face.  As soon as you smacked him you watched his eyes glaze over, and then the other side of him came out. 

“Ok, fine bitch. You wanna play like that, then let’s fucking play like that.” Your vision blurred as Dave hit you across the face. You then felt him hit you again, and again, and again, and again. When his one hand got tired, he then switched to the other but this time with a closed fist. You tried to fight back, but the more you struggled, the more he pinned you down on the ground. With both of his knees on either side of your arms, you couldn’t move. You eventually tried to relax, knowing that the more you fought the worse it was going to be. But this didn't stop him.

“You know,” Dave said, “I think I’m just gonna just take what I need this time from you. You seem to always run your fucking mouth off, saying you want to be my girlfriend, so why not take what's mine, right?” You then felt the rip of your jeans beneath you. You tried to fight him off, realizing what he was after, and what he was going to do. Dave and you had never had sex, and that was something that he always hated. 

“Dave you can’t, please, don’t. I’ll stay. Just don’t do that, don’t take that from me” you yelled as tears streamed down your face as you tried to fight him off. You fought for your life, because honestly it felt like this was it. But the more you fought the angrier he got until you felt the snap of your ankle, and then the searing pain that went with it. He broke your ankle so you couldn’t run away. You then felt him take his knife and cut you deep on your thigh, right up by your mound as he said “gonna make sure this is deep enough, so you have a scar here forever to remember who the fuck you belong to.”

You tried to fight him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get him off of you. And then finally you felt it, the searing pain in your groin as Dave forced himself all the way into you. He took the last bit of innocence that you had, you were now truly broken. 

You laid there crying, sobbing, wishing that death would take you. You must have been making too much noise because you felt Dave's hand on your mouth with a knife at your throat, yelling “shut the fuck up.”  You thought ‘please, just cut me and let me die here’ as you heard Dave moan above you. He continued to take what he thought belonged to him.

“Fuck, why have you denied this to me for so long, huh?” he said. You knew it wasn’t a question that he wanted answered, it was just something he was saying. “Gonna do this every fucking day now with you, Jesus. Fuck, will you at least stop fucking crying and pretend to at least enjoy this” he said, as you felt another smack across your face. You turned your face away from him so only your bad eye was upright, the one he beat hard with a fist. You didn’t want to look at him with the side of your face that you could still see out of. 

You laid there and tried to will the tears to stop, but they never did. You felt him tighten his hand around your throat as he squeezed the life out of it. “Fucking look at me, I know little lady you can still see out of one eye, not that fucking stupid. You look at who owns you, you hear me” he yelled, as he yanked your face towards him. When you looked up at Dave, you saw the monster that he truly was.  Somehow in the last few years a man who was kind and gentle to you turned into someone who was this. You thought that maybe this was him all along. You tried to convince yourself of that as a way of coping. 

As he continued you suddenly felt your head get dizzy from the lack of oxygen. You knew that you were done. That this was the day you were going to die. There was no more compassion in Dave’s face anymore, only a monster that was going to kill. You’ve seen this look in his eyes when he's killed other people before, so you knew you were next. 

As you laid there accepting your fate you heard a deep voice yell “what the fuck are you doing, get the fuck off from her.”  You saw Dave get yanked off from you by someone, but you didn't know who. 

“Mind your own fucking business, old man” you heard Dave yell back in return. You then heard a struggle followed by three soft bangs of a gun. It was a gun that had a silencer on it, you knew this because it was sold on the blackmarket of the QZ, and Dave usually carried a gun with a silencer on it. 

As you laid still you heard the person who shot the gun approach. At first you thought it was Dave, that he was coming back over to finish what he started. But when you heard the Texan drawl of “darlin’ are you ok?” the flood gates opened up and you fell apart. You knew that voice anywhere, the voice of Joel Miller.

Joel kneeled down by you as he gently sat you up. “Are you ok?” he said, looking you over to see what was all wrong. When he noticed the blood that was coming from in-between your legs, he shrugged off his flannel shirt, wrapped it around you and said, “ok, come on. Let’s get you outta here, and get ya cleaned up.” He then picked you up and carried you back to his house. 

Once you were cleaned up Joel got you situated and laid you down on his bed. Tess wasn't home, she was out working according to Joel. In an effort to try to get you to sleep, Joel laid you on your side and tucked you tight into his chest. One leg went in-between your legs, and he slowly stroked soothing circles on your back saying “it’s okay honey, I got ya and nothing bad is ever gonna happen, just breathe.” He started humming that little tune that you’d come to know and  love so well…Flashback end

Back to Regular Story

“y/n. Y/n. Y/N” you heard Joel yell, but it sounded muffled to your ears.  The only thing that you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat and the labored breathing that you were doing. “I can’t do this, he hates me, he wants to hurt me, I’m all alone" was all that you said out loud, still stuck someplace inside of your nightmare.  You were drowning in anxiety, breaking out in a cold sweat, and not realizing that you were still in fact dreaming.

“Baby, wake up” Joel yelled, shaking you as he tried to get you out of the nightmare.  You haven’t had this kind of a nightmare for a long time, and this fact burned hot in Joel’s chest.  He didn’t want you remembering the past, remembering the night that he killed Dave. He knew that’s the nightmare you were having because you always said words like “please don't take that Dave, don't cut me. I'll be good, I promise” and finally you'd yell “please just kill me, I wanna go home,” like you were doing right now. If that son of a bitch was still alive, I’d kill that motherfucker yet again, Joe thought to himself.

Joel was rubbing your arms and trying to wake you up as you started to thrash in the sheets. “Baby come on, come on honey it’s me, you gotta wake up” he said, feeling his heart ache at you trying to run away in your dream with your eyes still closed.  All of a sudden you sat up in bed and let out a blood curdling scream, clothes drenched slick with sweat, and body shaking all over.  As soon as your eyes flew open you saw Joel was sitting upright, right in front of you. He grabbed you and held you saying “baby I’m here, I'm here. You’re safe. No one’s hurting you. It all was just a bad dream honey, all of it. It was just a bad dream.”

“Joel” you said, shaking, touching his face, not believing that it was really him and that he was there.  “Dave, he, he-” 

“Shhh baby, c’mere, I gotcha honey, I gotcha” Joel said while wrapping his arms around you and tightly holding you against his chest. “He’s gone baby, he’s gone. Shhh.” Joel felt the tremors and aftershocks go through your entire body, up your spine, as you came down from your nightmare.  Joel slowly rocked you back and forth, and side to side, humming to you and reassuring you that you were alright. 

"Baby, can you look at me." Joel said with the gentlest voice, after humming to you and rocking you for a while. When you opened your eyes you saw him look at you with the softest eyes. Your lip quivered hard as your tears kept falling. Why are men cruel, why do they always hurt me, and why can't anyone love me? you thought to yourself. What you didn't realize was that you voiced your thoughts out loud, and Joel heard them. You tried to calm yourself down, but your throat burned. After taking a few breaths to steady yourself you felt the world start to spin on its axis. Your heart raced and you felt the sob that you were trying to hold back escape your mouth.

 "Oh baby, c’mere." Joel said as he grabbed your head and tucked you into the crook of his neck. He started humming to you that song again that you knew so well, the one he hummed that first night to you.

"It-it’s so beau-beautiful. Wh-what song is that?" you asked as you slowly finished crying yourself out. 

"I used to hum it to Sarah when she was little. It's a song I wrote before she was born." Joel said as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, holding you firmer to his chest to protect you.

"It truly is beautiful, Joel." 

"Yeah she is beautiful. She's right here in my arms, and she's all mine." Joel said while he rubbed your back.

"Joel I-"

Joel pulled back and cupped your face in his large callused hands while slowly swiping your tears away. "Y/n, let me get this out first baby, okay? I care so much about you baby, truly I do. It destroys me to see you like this. That fucker, Dave, he’s gone. Ya hear me? You gotta stop letting him in like this. No more baby, ok? Now c’mere.”

Joel then laid you down on the bed and tucked you into him, the same way he did that first night. “I'm not him mama, I never have been.” Joel continued to brush your tears away while whispering in your ear "stop cryin' baby. You forever have a home with me, for as long as you want it, Ellie too.”

“But for how long” you say muffled into his chest. Joel pulled you away and looked at you to continue, not understanding what you meant.

“How long do I have a home Joel?  Am I gonna be the roommate that gets to watch you bring women back to your house and fuck them in your bed? Is your bed ever going to be our bed, or am I just the person you're forced to be with? Am I just a fucking doormat that you hurt over and over again Joel, someone you fucking forget because you're too afraid of feeling something. ‘She's too young, he's too old, you can't be together, it's wrong.’ It'll be worse than David. You're gonna hur-hurt me w-worse than he did. Why can't you just love me?" There it was, in the broken silence of the room, that you told Joel your biggest fear.

Joel couldn't believe it, that you didn't understand his feelings for you. You weren't a doormat, and he sure as hell wasn't that good for nothing David. "Baby, you ain't ever gonna be a doormat, ok. I honestly don't give a fuck what people think if we're together. They can all just fuck off if they don't like it, including my brother Tommy. You and Ellie, you're my whole life, and nothing is ever gonna change that" Joel said, holding you tight to his chest. 

After holding you tight for a few minutes he then pulled back and said “I'm committed to being yours, ya hear me? Fuck mama, you feel that" he said while slowly grinding his hard bulge into your pelvis. You both let out a low moan at the sensation. The two of you were both so worked up from this back and forth edging that has been happening that any little friction sent you both over the edge into wanting to fuck the other person bad. 

While looking at you, Joel adjusted the angle of his pelvis and ground down a little more into you. You could feel his entire outline of his cock right now, and God he felt good, and was rock hard. "You do this to me mama, just you. No one else. So quit your fussin' about it. Ya hear me? It's only you that I want in my fucking bed and no one else" he said with another delicious grind of his hips. 

“It's you that I want.” *hip grind* “It's you that makes me happy.” *hip grind* “It's you that I wanna spend my life with.” *hip grind* “And it's you that I wanna fuck.” And with that admittance Joel crashed his lips into yours and kissed you with a deep hunger that he felt for you. As he skimmed your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to grant him easy access. 

You both were so worked up that you couldn't stand it anymore. “Baby please” you panted. “Please, Joel, please.”

Hearing you say his name all wanton and needy like that unlocked something deep within his body. He had a primal urge now to have you. Joel quickly grabbed your shirt and ripped it open, which sent the buttons flying everywhere. He didn't care though, he desperately needed you. 

Joel quickly started to devour your chest. Grabbing, sucking, and biting your nipples in a heated frenzy. He grabbed one of your legs and hitched it higher up on his hip to open you up. In a heated mess, Joel grabbed your thigh by the permanent scar that David had left. He dug his fingers into it while whispering in your ear “I'm gonna fucking mark you as mine properly, baby.” And that's when he felt it, you froze and started breathing erratically.

Joel slowly pulled back, realizing what he just did. He looked at you and saw a mixture of want and fear across your face. He just realized that you weren't fully out of your nightmare in your head. “Baby, I- I didn't mean it the way that came out.”

“I know” was all you said, taking a slow shaky breath. 

“Fuck” Joel groaned as he sat up, dragging a hand down his face at his fuck up that he just did. “You know, I'd love a fucking smoke right about now” he said out loud, more to himself than you.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Joel asked.

“Why do you wanna have a cigarette now? Don't people usually smoke after sex, not when this shit happens” you say, jestering in-between the two of you.

“I don't know, maybe cause I'm embarrassed and now nervous.”

“Wh-”

“Are we now playing 20 fucking questions, y/n. Jesus.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No Joel we're not” you snap. “I'm just trying to understand and salvage this fucking night. So why did you stop?”

“I think that's pretty obvious by the look you're still giving me.”

“What look?”

“Jesus, we are playing 20 questions. Y/n, just-”

“So help me God Joel, if you fucking tell me to leave it or drop it I swear to God, that the knife that is on your side of the bed will be stuck in your damn heart. So unless you wanna truly die tonight, I suggest you fucking start talking.” you said, snapping hard at Joel.

Joel looked down at you with a smirk on his face. There was that attitude that he knew and loved from you. Your anger and frustration was like an amazing fire, one that if Joel wasn't careful, would burn him to death. But the longer he sat there tonight, looking at you, the more he truly didn't care. He'd welcome the chance to get burned by your flames tonight. At least it’d make him feel alive, and that's something that he hasn't truly felt for a long time. 

“I'd like to see you try it” Joel said, bending down to whisper close to you. “I don't think you have the fucking guts to do it.”  As the stare down between Joel and you continued, you noticed that Joel widened his smirk. “Just as I thought,” he said, “you don't have the guts. You're all talk, and no fucking do y/n. And I'm not surprised. I honestly thought that you'd have the guts to do what you needed to do to survive. Apparently I was wrong.”

Joel knew he was playing a deadly game with you. But he didn't care, he wanted to snap you out of this problem you kept having thinking that you weren't good enough for him. So if he had to bite hard and yank hard on the Lion's tail to get a reaction, then that's what he was going to do.  After a brief moment of hesitation, Joel saw something snap inside of you. In a blink of an eye he watched your calm exterior morph into something like an intense rage. You flung yourself on him and grabbed his knife. The two of you wrestled for a moment until Joel was finally on his back, his hands up in surrender as you held the knife to his throat. 

Joel laid there with blown out pupils watching you. This form of anger turned him on, and made his dick twitch in his pants. Apparently you did have the balls to take him on. As Joel laid there he watched your outer exterior falter, and watched you start to second guess yourself. “Do it,” Joel said. “Y/n if you're gonna do it, don't think about it, just do it” he growled.

“I-I” you said, shaking your head.

“Come on baby, just do it” he said, looking at you with concern in his eyes as yours welled up with tears. “Baby, if you think that all men are like Dave, then fucking slice my throat. Let me go see my daughter, let me have my baby girl back. Just do it.” To emphasize his point Joel grabbed your wrist and pushed the knife into his neck more, but not where it was cutting him yet.

“Why?” you sobbed holding tight to the knife, but not letting go. “Why beg me, why not just do it yourself if you don't want to be here? Why do you need me?”

When Joel looked into your soft eyes it was then that he knew you couldn’t see it. That you couldn’t see that he loved you.  He didn’t want to open his heart and say those three little words yet, but he felt it. He loved you. But he, himself, was also drowning in emotion at this fact, just like you were.

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really fucked up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be.  If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a fucking monster. Please.”

Joel could see the war that was going on in your head, the struggle of wanting to say that every guy was like Dave and then not.  You knew that Joel was nothing like Dave, but still you couldn't be sure. Joel was moody, quiet, and sometimes cold. But even in the coldest of moments Joel still found compassion for you. He looked out for you and even protected you by killing Dave, when Dave attempted to take everything from you. Truth is, you were scared to death. You were scared to death to give yourself completely to someone else for fear that he'd do exactly what Dave did. That he'd lie and then destroy you.

As you sat there straddling Joel, holding the knife to his throat, you felt a horrible burn collect in the back of your throat. Eventually you couldn't hold it in any longer and a horrible sob escaped your mouth. Your mind was fighting hard to break free from the abuse that had happened from Dave.  

Joel could see you struggle with these emotions, as you wore them plain as day on your skin, unable to hide them. When Joel felt your grip on the knife falter he gently grabbed you and flipped you on your back. “I don’t want to be in a world where you hate me darlin’” Joel said, while putting the knife down and grabbing your hip to hitch it higher to open you up.  He slowly moved his one hand down to trace the outline of your slit through your panties, his other hand held your hands above your head.

“You're denched, baby” Joel whispered as he rested his forehead against yours while slowly circling your clit on the outside of your panties.  “I don’t want to live in a fucking world where someone else gets to touch this mama.”  Joel slowly moved from your clit down to the center of your weeping hole and then back up to your clit. 

“Fuck baby, I need you” Joel said, panting at how turned on he felt.  “Something tells me that you need me too” and with that Joel yanked your panties to the side as he crashed his lips onto yours. He quickly made fast work on your clit, alternating between feather light tickles to heavy circles.

“We're going to stop working each other up darlin’” Joel said, making fast work of your clit. “I can’t do it anymore baby. I fucking need you.” And with that admittance Joel deepened his kiss.  You two sat like that. Joel overtop of you holding your wrists above your head, while he slowly licked into your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile his other hand kept circling your clit, trying to give you release.

“Joel, please I need to-”

“I know baby, I know.  Let it happen, honey. Trust me, I got you. Let go.” And with that Joel felt your clit swell then spasm hard as your back arched off the bed. You sobbed and bucked your hips up hard against his hand, chasing your high, moaning Joel's name.  When overstimulation started Joel released your hands and started to just rock back and forth into you. Grinding his hard bulge into your drenched heat. Joel had removed his hand from your clit, and placed it on your head, to caress your head. He also continued to deepen his kiss in your mouth. The two of you sat there for several minutes, exploring each other's mouth while Joel slowly rocked his hips into you.

Joel kept rocking into you, showing you how much he cared, how much he loved you.  He couldn't say the words yet to you, soon, I'll tell her soon, he thought. The longer he made out with you, the more you both started to pant. You moved your hand down and slid Joel's pants off his hips as you started rubbing his swollen member. “Aw darlin', fuck” Joel said when you wrapped your hand around his head and gently squeezed. “Please baby, don't tease. I can't, I can't, fuck mama, don't tease me,” Joel panted and begged you to continue.

“Baby, shhh” you said as you stilled your movements. You immediately heard Joel groan in frustration, with his eyes closed, and his forehead touching yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you.”  With looking down at Joel you noticed that he was throbbing hard against your hand.  “Jesus Joel, does that hurt baby?” you asked running your thumb gently over the swollen reddened tip.  As you did you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. “I’m gonna take care of this baby, I’ll make it feel better” you cooed, slowly stroking him again.

“God please” Joel begged, breathless, panting hard when he looked into your eyes.

“What? What do you need Joel, tell me honey and I’ll do it.”

After a few more slow twists of your hand at the reddened tip of his cock you heard Joel let out a strangled groan followed by a breathy “Don't. Fa-fucking. St-Stop.”

“I won't, baby, if you promise to use your fingers. Joel fingers- ah- f-fuck me with your fingers. I want them deep baby. I promise though, I won’t stop touching you” you said panting.

Joel quickly shifted and yanked your panties all the way down.  He also quickly removed his shirt, and finished taking off his pants the rest of the way. He wanted to feel skin on skin contact with you. When he looked at you he saw that you had blown wide pupils. “Come here and let me fuck you with my hand, Joel” you said in a sultery voice.

“Fuck woman, if ya talk like that you’re gonna kill me” Joel said, panting and quickly getting situated back between your legs.  

Joel and you quickly found a rhythm. You stroked him while he fingered you. Joel also explored you with his mouth, kissing you passionately.  The longer it went, the more the two of you were panting heavily and rutting hard against each other.

“God Joel, baby I need-”

“What do you need darlin’, come on tell me- fuck” he said moaning as you stroked him faster.

“I need to come Joel, I need it so bad” you whined.

“You’re gonna cum for me darlin’, gonna give me another one?”

“Joel fuck, baby” you said as Joel pulled your leg up to widen you out for him.  He reached deep within you at the spongy part inside and your eyes rolled back in your head with a long moan.  

“Yeah mama, daddy knows where that fucking G-spot is.  Come on baby, soak daddy’s fingers with that beautiful pussy.  Pretend it’s my cock darlin’.  Come on, soak ‘em” Joel said growling in your ear as he picked up the pace fucking you hard and fast in your drenched tight hole.  He added a second finger and your eyes rolled back in your head, hand stumbling trying to stroke his cock fast through it.

“Joel I can’t” you said as you attempted to relax with pleasure, plus try to get him off.

“Let me do it mama, just hold your hand on my cock and I’ll do the rest.  I’ll fuck your hand as I fuck this pussy full with my fingers.  Pretend I’m inside of you baby, now come on, let daddy fuck ya good.”

Joel picked up the pace, rutting hard into your hand chasing his own high.  “Fuck baby, god you feel so damn good, mama. I haven’t- fuck- I haven’t fucked myself since I came in that pretty little pussy last time” Joel admitted out loud.

“Oh baby, fuck. Right there. Joel, honey, you need to come. Damn it. Come on Joel, you need to come with me, I'm almost there.  God, Joel. Blow your load on me, let me see it.”

“Filthy fucking woman” Joel growled, snapping his hand and hips hard into you.  “Filthy fucking mouth, I’m gonna fuck that beautiful mouth real soon. Make you take my cock all the way back like you’re meant to.  Fuck y/n, I’m close, you’re gonna need to come soon darlin’, I can’t wait much longer.”  You felt Joel’s thrusts become sloppy in your hands, so you added a bit of pressure and started moving your wrist faster to get him there sooner.

“Fuck- babe. Shit, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna-” Joel said while putting his forehead against yours as he came with a loud groan.

“Come Joel, come for me baby” you said while you felt him swell and then release his cum all over your hand and stomach. You followed him over the edge with your own release, coating his fingers as he kept pumping them in and out of you.  

When Joel finally found release he felt his vision go white as his balls drained of all his pent up anger, frustration, and energy that he had from not being able to come since the last time you two had sex. As he came he heard himself swearing while gently rocking back and forth into your hand as white rope after white rope of his seed came out of him.  When his cock was finally spent, and he started to soften, he opened his eyes.

“Hey you” you said as you both came back down to Earth.  “You ok, did I do that ok? Was I too-”

“Baby, stop. That was- fuck woman. That was amazing.” Joel said as he continued to slowly pant, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Good,” you said while kissing his forehead, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“How about you?” Joel said while picking his head up and slowly removing his fingers from your soaked cunt. “Did that-”

“Fuck Joel, that felt amazing” you said while laughing and blushing. 

“Good baby, so glad to hear.” he said, giving you a slow kiss to your mouth. When he was done he rolled onto his back and slowly calmed his breathing.

“We’re a mess Joel” you said laughing at how soaked you and him were with both sweat and both of your releases.  

“Give me a minute for the blood to go back to my brain honey, and then I’ll get up and get us a towel to clean up with.”

“Has it really been that long for you? That you haven’t come since we had sex in the woods a few months back?” you asked while you gently nudged him.

“I said that out loud? Fuck” Joel said with a groan.  “Yeah baby, it is, or was,” he said while sitting up and slowly standing up. Joel exited the room and went to the bathroom to clean up.  After he was done cleaning himself up he came in with a wet washcloth and a dry towel and slowly cleaned you up.  When he was finished he placed them in the dirty clothes pile, making a mental note to make sure he washed them in the sink with soap and water later.

He laid down next to you in bed, still panting as he slowly came down from his high. He only had his pajama pants on, and not his t-shirt.  You had already grabbed his t-shirt and had put it on.  “C’mere” he said while pulling you close to him and tucking you on your side, against his chest.

As you laid there and listened to him breathing, you heard that it was starting to slow and even out.  “Did you mean what you said?” you gently whispered into the night.

“About what?” Joel said, with sleep lacing his voice.

“That I’m not a doormat, that you want me to stay with you, and that you only want me in your bed?”  After Joel didn't respond you said “just forget that I-”

With a sigh Joel said, “Baby.” When you didn’t acknowledge him, he gripped you tighter saying “y/n.” Finally when you looked up at his face you saw that he was looking down at you seriously.  “I meant every fucking word that I said.  You're not a doormat and you belong in this bed with me, and only me. Now go to sleep.” Joel then tucked you into him once again.

After a moment you said in the darkness “I love you Joel” and with that, you fell asleep.  When Joel knew that you were sleeping he also said out loud “I love you too sweetheart, always have and always will.”  Joel knew that he had to tell you soon that he loved you. But this admission in the dark, when you were softly sleeping in his arms, was good enough for now. As sleep finally took Joel he thought to himself I love you and you’re forever mine. 

That was the first night the both of you had a decent night's sleep since this whole thing started. You both were wrapped up tight in each other's arms, not letting go, locking the world out for just one night. If you could describe the feeling you both felt, that feeling would be home. You felt like you were at home, safe in each other's arms. And that was something worth fighting for. 

-End chapter-

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel and reader #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel the last of us #my journey to you #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us hbo #post apocalyptic #pedro pascal characters #you're forever mine

[fireflylitsky]

THE CUTEST BABES FROM @moonamayillu for my fic Yokai Sunset

I am clutching them to my chest and heaving with love they are so perfect and adorable 🥰

(despite how very cute this art is, mind the tags as the fic has many horror/gore/adult themes)

#KisaSaku #Kisame Hoshigaki #sakura haruno #moonamayillu #Art commission #Crazy adorable art #Sakura with a big sword #GIVE SAKURA KUBIKIRIBOCHO #Yes Kisame is smitten af by her muscles #Buff Sakura #Pushing my agenda of GIVE 👏 SAKURA 👏KUBIKIRIBOCHO 👏 #Post-Apocalyptic AU #Yes Sakura is obviously an adult #comming art as motivation to finish the next chapter #Art for a fic #Fic: yokai sunset #Firefly Writing

[fizzytoo]

zoe holiday. seattle, wa. survivor

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 cas #show us your sims #oc: zoe holiday #*fizzysims #i read some dina/ellie fics and decided to make a post apocalyptic oc :D #she’s exhausted her feet hurt she hasn’t had a proper meal in months #now she’s sleeping in a deserted ambulance until she can figure out where to go next #send my baby strength 🫂 #i haven’t decided if this is tlou universe or something else entirely #queue

[lets-try-some-writing]

Silence is Salvation

None know where the Angels of Death came from, but when they broke free from the earth, there was no stopping them. Now millennia after the fall, Cybertron is split in two. Those with wings life safely in their floating city, unable to be touched by the Angels which roam the ground. Those with wheels on the other hand were left to perish, to serve as prey for the abominations that all Cybertronians.

In this new age, only silence is salvation, and Orion Pax has only one goal. He will find a way to defeat the angels for the sake of all their kind.

(This is the first chapter of an AU I have been cultivating quietly. I decided to put it here to gauge the reaction to it. Hope you all enjoy :D)

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Orion Pax was the designation given to him upon his creation. He did not know who his Carrier was, nor his Sire. But according to the others, he did not have either since he was one of the last grounders who emerged from the Well of Allsparks, a final wave of hopeful newsparks not yet adapted to survive in their deadly world. Others of his generation perished almost immediately, and Orion would have been part of the unfortunate masses if not for the appearance of the Patriarch. 

Orion was lucky. He was part of what his fellows called 'The Line of Primes', a legacy all those who served under the Patriarch shared that secured their futures. He did not understand when he was young, but he did know one thing, a simple but essential lesson.

Silence is salvation.

He had few memories of his early sparklinghood, a not uncommon trait amongst those who were born of the Well. However the beginning of his life stuck with him and never faded, usually haunting him during the loneliest part of travels. 

He recalled climbing and hearing the sound of things that his coding instinctually told him were not of his kind. He remembered pulling himself out and watching in silent horror as those who came alongside him were slaughtered by long limbed creatures without features save for their deadly maws. He only escaped the devastation by pure happenstance. A piece of rubble was just large enough for him to hide beneath as the creatures wreaked havoc. 

There was a moment of salvation during that formative cycle. As Orion huddled in fear beneath the rubble and watched through a crack the absolute carnage playing out before him, he saw something nearly angelic. Beings he knew to be Cybertronian flew overhelm, their wings glittering in the light of the nearest star like a promise of sanctuary. Orion almost left his place as he saw them dive toward the ground. They had to be there to help him, maybe even to kill the creatures.

That was what his younger self assumed. He was dead wrong. 

The flight capable Cybertronians did not stop the slaughter. Instead, they dived and scouted, watching the sparklings being killed and devoured. Only once they seemed to have gotten enough data did they twist and glide toward the ground, their thunderous engines catching the attention of the creatures and leading them away. Once the creatures took off in chase of several of the flyers, two landed and transformed, their bodies shining and their plating all but glowing as the light bounced off them.

Orion remembered calling out, small cries coming from his vocalizer as the flyers wandered and looked over each sparkling, the living and the dead. However, as the young gathered around the flyers, looking up at them with optics shining in hope, Orion remained hidden. Something deep in his coding told him that leaving his hiding place was a death sentence despite the fact that fellow Cybertronians stood mere meters away. 

He was right in following his code.

The flyers looked over each and every sparkling, disregarding all save for those who bore wings just as they did. The grounder sparklings wailed in confusion as the flyers scooped up the four sparklings gifted with wings and returned to the skies, their thrusters causing the little ones to fall to the ground coughing up dust and soot. Then, just like that, the flyers that led the creatures away could be seen joining their brethren in the air, shooting off into the distance without so much as a moment of hesitation to consider the dozens of other sparklings abandoned on the ground.

There was no salvation for those poor sparks, and Orion could only watch as they were left to their doom.

Bodies littered the ground, energon spilled from lifeless frames, and limbs lay strewn about the scene as if some sort of grizzly decoration. Orion was too young to fully understand what he was seeing at the time, but he knew that leaving his hiding place and making any noise at all would lead the things to him. The creatures came running the moment his fellows cried out in terror at being left behind, and they did not hesitate to eliminate the young grounders. Even the fastest of his fellows had been caught and cut down the moment they screamed. Orion was not gifted with swiftness, he was not blessed with agility. There was nothing he could do but hide and remain silent.

His decision to remain in his hiding place saved his life, and on that cycle he learned a very harsh truth. The world he was born into was not one that loved him and his kind. Only those graced with wings were seen as living beings worthy of being saved. Despite that-

Not all hope was lost.

He did not know how long he lingered in his place beneath the rubble, too frightened to move and terrified for his life. But at some point, he heard noises beyond the confines of his small haven. On instinct, he looked through the crack in his hiding place fully expecting to see another creature prowling around the bodies of the dead to consume them or to note their status and select a new direction to continue its hunt. Instead, Orion all but cried in relief as he saw someone just like him. The Cybertronian had no wings, instead possessing a cape and a sturdy frame fitting of one intended to govern over the ground. A smile graced the features of the one who shared his frame type and Orion managed a sniffle, too afraid to do much else.

"Come. It is safe." Orion never moved so fast in his short existence as he scurried from his hiding place and into the arms of his savior. He knew what the words meant from his inbuilt datapack, but it mattered very little to him. All he cared about was the simple fact that he was safe in the arms of a being that felt like family. From that point onward, his memory of his early life devolved into a mix of emotion, sights, sounds, and smells. But he was aware of the arms that carried him, constantly hushing him when he tried to make a noise. Steady servos that fed him energon shards that caused his tanks to hurt for his first few vorns of life. And soothing fields that washed over him, calming him on dark cycles when the creatures roamed nearby.

At some point, he learned to whistle instead of speak. Noise that was unnatural brought the creatures, and that could not be allowed. Eventually, his savior and the dozens of others who shared his similar features and colors showed him how to speak with his servos through gestures and symbols. He learned that his vocalizer was unneeded in the face of far safer communication and it did not take him long to adapt to the new method of speech, no matter how much it went against the coding he was created with. When he was old enough, he was taught to express himself with his EM field, ensuring his emotional outbursts remained completely silent. The creatures could not sense their fields after all. It was their one true safety blanket.

Silence was his reality, noise brought death.

When he had completely learned to communicate in the various ways of his comrades, he was able to continue his education. He became aware of the fact that his savior had a designation. The one who saved him was called Alpha Trion, a designation only whispered by his fellows when they were near sources of natural sound which covered their murmuring. It was at that time that he also learned the names of his fellows and was able to tell them his. Up until that point he had only been referred to by a specific gesture as a way to ensure he was able to be set apart as an individual while also not requiring speech. That suited him just fine, and he actually preferred the silence.

Of course during those hushed moments by plasma pits and oil springs, Orion Pax was told stories of the old world and given gifts far greater than most of his frame type would ever receive.

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"We are the last of the Well Forged." One of his fellows, a young mech perhaps a millennia old who operated under the servo gesture 'Little-Bird' spoke up amidst the hiss of the oil spring nearby. His voice was deep and echoey, a side effect of only speaking when absolutely required. His frame was gaunt and thin, hardened by cables long since toned by continued exertion and covered in scars from many vorns of receiving injuries without plating to protect his protoform. Even still he pulled datacables from their sockets on his armorless frame and smiled as he extended them, testing their abilities as he continued.

"We are remnants of the old world, the only keepers of ancient knowledge. They once called mecha like us Archivists. In the old world, we guarded and tended to great citadels of knowledge where information from all over the world was stored." Little-Bird spoke with awe in his voice, a reaction Orion shared. Little-Bird's protoform strained as he reached out for Orion, every cable and wire visible on his body as he worked. To Orion it looked cold, but he knew it would not be long before he too would need to shed his armor to remain silent while moving. 

"There are not many of us, but we have one goal." Little-Bird's datacables slipped into a socket on the back of Orion's helm, connecting directly to his processors. It was uncomfortable the first few times his fellows fed him data in this way, but every time he grew more used to the process. Already Bright-Fire, Tall-One, and Smoke-in-the-Wind had offered their collective memory and knowledge. Orion knew more with every upload, and each time he saw more glimpses of the world that came before.

Every Archivist carried the data preserved from the fall of their world. Upon death, that knowledge was downloaded by the remaining Archivists to be given to the next generation to preserve. Orion had never had to collect what remained of the dead personally, but more than once in his short life he witnessed the frames of the fallen, abandoned after being shredded by the Angels. Often the abominations did not even want fuel, merely a chance to hunt without aim.

"We have been ordered to preserve the knowledge of the old world and use it to find a way to defeat the Angels, no matter the cost." Little-Bird's fists clenched in anger as he uploaded his data. Memories flowed into Orion's mind, showing him images of cities glittering gold and offering data from all sorts of seemingly unconnected sources. More knowledge than he could ever use was dutifully filed away in his processors to be tended to until he had need to call upon it. 

It hurt to have so much put into his helm all at once, but he understood Little-Bird's anger as he also received memories of the fallen that Little-Bird had collected from the bodies of the dead. Dozens of other Archivists, ones Little-Bird had been raised alongside, all eliminated. Each were cut down by Angels or torn to pieces by raiders, as was common amongst those who lived on the ground. 

More memories greeted him as Little-Bird’s anger transferred over. Little-Bird had not lived to see the fall of the old world, but the memories garnered from that time had endured. In front of his optics Orion saw cities, shining and powerful, all reduced to rubble as Angels of Death broke free from the ground like some convoluted version of a sleeper agent and proceeded to slaughter all in range. He saw countless mecha cut down, torn to pieces as the Angels rampaged. Mech, femme, and sparkling alike were slaughtered with equal prejudice. 

It was all so loud, so… wrong. The old world was bright and noisy, filled with color and life. Then over the course of a few memory files, shells were dropped, bombs launched, and everything fell silent as survivors fled and the Angels endured. Orion did not wish to believe it. How could he?

“What caused the old world to crumble?” Orion questioned softly, not wanting to aggravate his fellow Archivist more than necessary. Little-Bird looked up, his expression softening into something more akin to sorrow rather than rage. Through their connection, Little-Bird must have sensed his denial as he calmly picked Orion up, placing his small frame on his lap. 

“The Angels came, freed from where they lingered in stasis underground. They have no thoughts, no sentience. They are merely creatures that destroy and hunt us regardless of whether or not they require fuel.” Little-Bird ran his digits along Orion’s helm, easing the nervous flutter of his spark and smothering his fears in the comfort of clan bonds. 

“Millions perished, and those who did not quickly learned to survive… save for those with wings. They did not struggle like the rest of us. They merely fled to their floating city, abandoning the rest of us to the Angels.” Bitterness seeped into Little-Bird’s voice, memories of an Archivist begging for aid from a flier only to be denied repeated in Orion’s processors. 

"Those in Vos have done nothing to save us despite the fact that they have the power to act. We can only rely on ourselves." Little-Bird scowled as Orion was given memories and data about the flying city. When the world fell, only those who had wings were able to escape the devastation by fleeing to the floating city of Vos. Grounders, those not blessed with the ability to grace the skies, were left to rot and serve as prey for the Angels of Death. There were reasons according to the data Orion was given. Too many mecha living in the city would be unsustainable, an understandable reason to be picky about who to save.

But that was not their greatest sin. No, the reason all of grounder kind hated those who were blessed with wings was quite simple. Not only could they flee from and lead the Angles away, they had the ability to give grounders the chance to collect energon in peace and save their sparklings from death. They did not need to live in the last shining city of the old world, all grounders needed was help. 

Help that they had been denied time and time again for the simple fact that it was inconvenient for the high and mighty flyers. 

"This life is a dangerous one Orion Pax, but we do it for the safety of all our kind. If we cannot find a solution, then we need to be ready to preserve our history so that hopefully, others may use our wisdom to end the threat." Little-Bird grasped Orion's shoulder, a determined glint in his optics. Orion nodded as the data upload finished and he laid down to process it. The last moments of Archivists killed by numerous threats played out in his mind as data was filed away. He tried not to listen to the screams as he focused on adjusting.

It would fade with time, and when it did, he would learn from the mistakes of his elders. Death was common on the ground, but it was also sacred. Every death offered wisdom and insight that could be used by others. No death was meaningless, regardless of how hard it was to see the last agonizing moments of those who did not have Primus's favor.

Knowledge was power. An Archivist could not afford to lack any of it. 

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Orion grew in the quiet, never uttering a word as he graduated from being carried on the backs of one of his fellows to walking on his own two pedes in response to his increasing knowledge. That was when his education changed yet again. He had long since learned to communicate without so much as a peep, but moving in silence was a whole other matter. He was a hazard to his clan and it showed with how often Alpha Trion needed to wield his relic to keep the Angels at bay. 

Neither Orion nor the others knew exactly what Alpha Trion was or why his Covenant kept the Angels away, but they did not feel the need to know. So long as they remained close to their leader, he could open his great book and extend his field and the Angels would simply be unable to locate them or otherwise flee. 

Usually, Orion and his clan kept far away from settlements built around natural sources of sound. They did not like to be involved in the politics of the gangs and other such organizations that ran those areas. Often their travels took them through the remnants of cities where their duties included hunting for anything of the old world still salvageable. Sometimes that meant taking memories from the dead if their frames were not too damaged. In other instances that entailed going through highly dangerous areas filled with finicky technology that could make any number of noises in order to get to relics and items of interest.

Whatever they did, it was always a gamble. 

Orion was quick to learn how to stalk quietly. His fellows all shed their armor once they reached younglinghood since by that point it grew too bulky and noisy to be kept. Thus, Orion followed their example. With the help of his comrades, his armor was cut away and he was left in just his protoform. His inbuilt weapons which had only just begun to come online were swiftly shut down and Orion was taught to vent manually instead of running his fans. Cool air had to be cycled through his intake instead of his vents and heated air had to be released the same way. He struggled greatly to regulate his temperature as he adjusted, often passing out for the first few stellar cycles.

But his fellows were patient, and Alpha Trion was willing to stop so that Orion could train in the art of silent steps. It took him time, and he was never as quiet as his fellows. However eventually he managed to achieve a degree of silence in his steps that at least ensured he wouldn't die the moment he put his pede down too hard. Regulating his temperature manually became second nature and before long Orion was ready to receive his first and only augment, the one every grounder got as soon as they learned the art of silence normally.

Never before had he actually been to a settlement for more than a swift pass through to collect energon. But to receive his augments, he was taken to the only doctor Alpha Trion trusted with his Archivists.

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"How old is he?" The doctor, known as Ratchet in the spoken tongue, asked as he readied his tools. 

"Nineteen vorns. He has completed his preliminary training and is ready to begin his advanced survival training as soon as his augments are in place." Alpha Trion replied from where he held Orion's servo. The Patriarch liked to be with each of his Archivists when they got their augments, and that Orion was thankful for. His fellows were not subtle in making it clear that receiving his augments was going to hurt like a glitch.

"Never one to waste time are you?" Ratchet remarked with a hint of sass in his tone. Alpha Trion said nothing as Ratchet sighed and collected a series of saws.

"I haven't been able to make more anesthetic. I cleared out my old clinic vorns ago and I don't have the tools to produce new compounds without attracting the Angels. This will hurt." Ratchet was blunt as he held up the saw. Orion's optics widened and he bit his derma as he looked up at Alpha Trion in fear. He was no stranger to pain since removing his armor. Protoform took time to harden and be capable of taking a hit without causing severe damage. Even still, a saw to his legs…

"All will be well Orion Pax. These augments are the first of many trials you will endure, but these changes will serve you well." Alpha Trion's field brushed over Orion, calming his spark's nervous spin. He vented deeply through his intake, just as he had been trained in order to calm himself without sound. Then after a moment of readying himself mentally, he nodded. There was no need for words.

"I will try to keep this as quick as I can." Ratchet alerted before his saw descended on Orion's right leg.

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Ratchet kept his promise that cycle. Having performed the surgery countless times before, the process only took a joor. Despite that, Orion was left bedridden for several cycles afterward as his new legs healed and his various minor augments settled. 

When he could stand again, Orion had to relearn how to walk all over again. Having legs like that of a cyber-feline was not exactly comfortable after spending all of his sparklinghood with the leg structure of the average bipedal. A reinforced jaw was also new, along with claw attachments on his digits and heightened senses. However, when he rejoined his fellows, he found that the augments were indeed a huge boon. 

He was able to easily stalk as his comrades did now that his legs were restructured to grant him greater stride and a larger distribution of his frame weight across the ground. Running on all fours was now also possible due to the claw attachment, giving him the ability to climb and run like a mech-animal without damage. Keeping up with his fellow Archivists was no longer a chore and rather a joy. Silence was his specialty and he greatly enjoyed the freedom his newfound speed offered him. There would still not be any escape from the Angels if they caught him, but at least like this he could travel faster than before.

His reinforced jaw allowed him to finally learn how to find and extract energon as well. Little-Bird and Gold-Sky had more than a bit of fun watching him try to scratch away at energon deposits, collecting as many scrapes as he could without alerting any Angels. They had far less fun when he broke off a whole energon chunk by accident and Alpha Trion had to use his Covenant to ward off the Angels. 

Still, he learned. His heightened senses finally let him notice the things his comrades did. His legs gave him speed and silence he never had before, and his jaw at last let him eat without someone else needing to hunt for energon for him and crush the crystal into something consumable. He was no longer a sparkling.

Fully recognized as one of the number of Archivists, Orion Pax spent a few more vorns traveling with Alpha Trion and receiving data uploads until he had all of the old archives within him. But all things had to come to an end, and eventually there came a cycle when Alpha Trion looked over the Archivists he had led so dutifully for vorns on end and bid them all farewell. It came out of the blue for Orion, but the elder Archivists seemed to expect it when Alpha Trion sat with them one final time and gave each of them a data upload from his own processors to ensure they lost nothing and were able to preserve what they gained. 

"Why is he leaving us?" Orion whispered his question to Little-Bird, the one who had become a mentor to him over the vorns. Little-Bird merely patted him on the helm fondly and watched Alpha Trion complete another data upload with an Archivist.

"It is the way. When we are grown and ready to set out on our own, Alpha Trion will give us our final data upload and we are to scatter and search on our own." Orion's finials perked at the information. This couldn't be right. Was it not more effective to travel as a clan? They were family, and together they had strength. 

"I do not understand." Orion murmured as Alpha Trion came nearer.

"You will. We all do eventually." Little-Bird assured before standing and wandering off to another group of Archivists preparing to leave. Evidently, they had decided to stay together once Alpha Trion dispersed them.

"Orion Pax, last forged Descendant of the Thirteenth born of the Well of Allsparks." Alpha Trion listed his full title as the Patriarch knelt down to Orion's level. The Covenant sat on Alpha Trion's hip comfortably as he took Orion's servos and rubbed circles onto the front with his thumbs. Such a small gesture, and yet Orion wanted to cry all the same. This was farewell. He had never truly been alone his whole life. 

"Do not fear that which lies beyond. Ahead of you is a future filled with joy. You need only seek it out and endure the trials that come with it." Alpha Trion's datacables slid from their sockets and into Orion's with ease. Orion relished in the feeling as Alpha Trion scoured his processors, making minor alterations to ensure nothing Orion learned was lost.

"Travel to the old City of Iacon. Search for the Matrix of Leadership. There you will find what you need." As Alpha Trion pulled away, Orion almost wept at the loss of connection. However, he stayed strong as the Patriarch moved onto the next Archivist in line. He had a mission now.

Iacon was on the other side of the world and was by far one of the largest cities on the planet. It would be a nightmare to comb through, but he would search. His records had a great deal to say about the Matrix of Leadership. Such information would surely be needed if and when he located the relic.

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'Orion Pax. What are you doing here?' Ratchet signed as Orion walked into his clinic. The Medic was always on the move, it was quite a pain to track him down. But Orion was not going to be wandering into any cities without someone to repair him on call. His fellow Archivists had fallen too many times not to death by the Angels, but instead due to injuries long left untreated as a result of having no friends or clan.

Archivists were known for traveling alone. Orion had no such interest in doing the same. Success would come to him with the aid of others, this he knew from his time with the Archivists.

'I come with an offer.' Orion signed back as he put down a series of tools he managed to bribe off a fellow Archivist before they went their separate ways. Ratchet's optics blew wide as he saw the tools, all in pristine condition. Orion was not sure where they were found, but any medic would kill to have such tools, that much he knew. Without the means to make more equipment, at least without Vos getting involved, all tools were valuable and knowledge sacred.

'What do you want?' Ratchet questioned, his servos hesitating and his field extending in suspicion. Orion did not begrudge him that as he smiled and bowed slightly in respect. Politeness was always the correct course of action with those who were to hopefully become a clan.

'I wish to travel and explore the cities, but I cannot do so alone. Too many of my fellows have died due to lack of practical knowledge and medical care.' Ratchet remained on guard but gradually seemed to come to some sort of calm as he took the tools and examined them. He took his time and Orion did not rush him as the medic looked over the offering. These sorts of agreements were sacred and took time.

'You wish for me to join you in your wanderings.' Orion nodded once and Ratchet returned the gesture, both understanding the other.

'We will stop at every settlement along the way so that I may tend to those in need of repairs.' Ratchet put forward his demands and Orion almost allowed his shock to show as he nodded. Such reasonable terms were all but unheard of, especially among those as highly regarded as medics. Still, he would not question such a gift.

'That is more than agreeable.' Orion smiled and Ratchet took a moment to think before he did the same. They reached out and shook servos, agreement filtering through their fields. They would not be clan for some time. Those bonds were slow to form, but as it was, they had the beginnings of a family. All clans started with deals, as was the nature of the surface.

'Then I will gather my things and we can prepare to set off. I would recommend a guide however. A mech who knows the area and has connections would be valuable.' Ratchet suggested as he began to collect his small assortment of items. Medics tended to travel light.

'I believe I have a mech in mind.' Orion assured as his processors kicked into action, providing him information about local guides. He and his former clan hired the services of one particular mech enough times to prove he was trustworthy. If he could be found, he would be instrumental in the success of Orion's mission.

'And who would that be, young Archivist? Your kind do not tend to associate with settlements enough for me to believe you truly know what you are talking about.' Ratchet raised an optical ridge and Orion merely smiled again. 

'I am unlike my kin. I wish to form a clan to travel alongside. With that in mind, I was thinking of the guide known as Jazz. He has aided my former clan on occasion.' The medic paused, thinking as he put the last of his things into his pack. He seemed skeptical before he appeared to recognize the designation and signed back his response, only seeming a little exasperated.

'That one will be nothing but trouble... but his skill is undeniable.' Orion grinned and Ratchet shook his helm. He had a feeling things were going to end up alright in the end. He just had to get to Iacon and find the Matrix. Then he could figure out everything else.

In the worst case scenario, he would at least get a good relic out of the mission and hopefully some clanmecha as well.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #orion pax #alpha trion #ratchet #alternate universe #silence is salvation au #post apocalyptic #worldbuilding #fic idea #I brainstormed with a buddy to get this thing planned out #I have more ideas for this au if it is seem favorably

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Containment Diaries: Entry 6

Pairing: Virologist!Bob Floyd x Reader AND Aviator!Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

ApocalypseAU

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Warfare, Disease, Military Inaccuracies, Medical and Science Inaccuracies, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Breakdowns, Gore, I think that’s it?

- Entry 5 Here -

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18+ Only Beyond This Point

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The next day your OOC’s arrived, small polymer disks with ridges lined with human cells, perfect for testing the virus’s effects and anything you think may work as a cure.

You all worked tirelessly throughout the day, with you, Martin and Julia bringing Bob samples and extracts of plants or combinations of plants you thought might work.

The others chipped in with various theories and pulled together synthetic cocktails to try as well as your natural ones, and by the end of the day, Bob suddenly shot up in his seat and whispered to himself, his eyes darting back and forth between the disk and the mixture he had just tried.

He ran a hand through his hair and laughed, “It’s working.” He mumbled.

Everyone turned to look at Bob.

“It’s fucking working! You did it, you guys did it!” He laughed with glee.

“What?” You almost sobbed you were so relieved, your stomach somersaulting.

“What worked?” Martin asked, running over.

“It… it was a combination of the synthetic mix and the your teams Safficinolide extract, neither worked on their own but together… it completely shut the virus down.”

Everyone laughed and clapped, hugging one another, thrilled that they were making some sort of progress.

You smiled and congratulated everyone, and suddenly wished you could celebrate. The team certainly needed it.

Then it suddenly dawned on you, you would need to test the virus on a living human in order to see if the cure would work once the virus had taken hold.

Your smile fell from your face and you sat down slowly on your desk.

“What’s wrong with you?” Julia asked, “It’s a good day, cheer up.”

You looked at her and nodded, “Yeah you’re right.” You lied, faking a smile. You wouldn’t dampen everyone’s spirits yet, you would let them have this little victory before the human trials had to start.

You walked up to Bob with a grin, your arms crossed, “Congrats Dr Floyd.”

“Congrats to you, you guys did it.” He grinned back, desperately wanting to kiss you.

“You know what this means now though, don’t you?” You sighed.

“Some poor suckers gonna need to test the damn thing, yeah.” He murmured, “But we’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

You nodded, smiling again, you were just glad you were one step closer to cleaning up this entire mess.

“I’ll be right back.” You grinned, and left the room to go and find Sergeant Williams.

You were lucky enough to find him quickly as he was doing his rounds on the ships upper level, and you stopped him.

“Sir, I need to speak with you, is now a good time?” You asked.

“Certainly, please go ahead.” He said turning to face you, his back straightening.

“We, uh, we think we’ve found a cure, at least the makings of one. It’s stopped the viruses on the chips completely, so we’re heading in the right direction.”

Sergeant Williams chuckled loudly, elated, “That’s fantastic news, Miss Y/L/N! I knew you could do it, only the best of the best!”

“Yeah.” You smiled, “So… I wanted to know if there was any way we could request a few bottles of champagne, or wine or Prosecco, anything, just to celebrate. The team has been quite down in the dumps and I just really think a celebration will help, before human testing starts.” You asked sheepishly.

Sergeant Williams was quiet for a moment as he thought, eventually he nodded and smiled, “Let me speak to the Captain and see what I can do.”

You thanked him and went back to the lab, everyone now stood chatting away, thankful for the break and excitedly discussing what they would do as soon as they were allowed to go home once things returned to normal.

You walked up to Martin and Julia, and congratulated them again on their stellar work. You chatted for a while before there was knock on the lab door.

You all turned and Sergeant Williams walked in with a small crate in his hands.

“I just wanted to come and personally congratulate you all for your fantastic work. I know there’s still a lot to do, but this breakthrough is a great first step.” He put the crate down and pulled out 9 bottles of Brut. Everyone gasped and someone whooped in the back. “Take tonight to celebrate this victory. Tomorrow you begin human trials.” He stated and walked out the door.

You groaned and smacked a hand to your face as everyone went from excited to anxious. He wasn’t meant to mention that part.

“Alright everyone, I know we’re all anxious about the next steps, but like the Sergeant said, let’s just take tonight to enjoy ourselves and celebrate, we deserve this!” Rebecca from Biochemistry said, and everyone cheered again.

Bob grabbed the first bottle and popped the cork, “Someone grab me some some clean beakers!”

Alberta grabbed as many as she could carry and placed them on Bobs desk, he began to pour haphazardly into the beakers and handed them out to everyone as Alberta went to grab more.

You waited until everyone had a beaker before you went up to grab yours.

“This was all your doing, huh?” Bob mumbled with a grin.

“Hmmm, maybe.” You winked, grabbing a beaker and clinking it against Bobs.

“Can’t think of a better way to celebrate.” He sighed.

You spent the evening in the Lab with your colleagues getting drunker and drunker.

Carl from the Mycology department stood on a desk and sang cringy 2000’s hits, while everyone danced and sang along, the main light had long been switched off in favour of the small lamps and Brandon from Marine Bio gave the room some ambiance using Bioluminescent compounds in a few test tubes scattered around the lab.

“Look!” He’d called out proudly, “Now we have our own Neon lights!”

Everyone had chuckled and cheered, a group of great scientists reduced to mere drunken teenagers.

Bob snuck up behind you and spun you round, you squealed and then laughed when you realised who it was.

“Dance with me.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you into him.

“But… the others, they’ll know.” You whispered.

“I don’t care.” He mumbled, an arm wrapping around your lower back as he kissed you deeply. You gave in and wrapped your arms around his neck.

A few of your colleagues whistled, others rolled their eyes, some didn’t even care.

You let Bob twirl you round and sway you from side to side in clumsy, tipsy movements, and the other scientists grabbed a partner and began to dance with one another.

You all laughed and halfway through you switched partners and changed dancing styles, mostly dancing like idiots. You even briefly danced with Julia, who seemed too drunk to hate you in that moment.

Eventually, exhausted, you all plonked down in a chair and formed a wonky circle, opting to spend the rest of the night just talking as you sipped away at what was left of the champagne.

Brandon had passed out in his chair, snoring loudly as you all circled back to the human testing.

“I don’t know why we’re worrying, the cocktail worked so well on the OOC, I’m confident it will be fine.” Rebecca chimed in.

“Well that’s not always the case.” Bob slurred, “Sometimes, if the disease replicates too fast, the cure may not have enough time to kill it all. That’s why… that’s why I’m worried.” He mumbled.

“Nahhh, I have total faith!” Martin piped up, downing the rest of his beaker.

He stood and stumbled over to Bobs desk, “In fact, I have so much faith… that I’ll be the one to test it.” He picked up a tube of NVB and held it up to the lamp light.

Bob chuckled, “What?”

“Yeah. Fuck it. In the name of science.” He mumbled, suddenly opening a clean needle and syringe.

Bob stood and your eyes widened.

“Martin put that down, we’re nowhere near ready yet.” Bobs voice was now serious as he held a hand out to Martin.

“We’re as ready as we’re ever gonna be.” He shrugged, placing the needle in the tube and extracting some of the virus.

“I’m serious man, put it down. Now!” Bob yelled, his booming voice making everyone jump, as he closed the distance between him and his desk. He swiped at the syringe but Martin quickly took a step back and out of reach as he grinned.

You stood suddenly realising the seriousness of the situation.

“Martin don’t be stupid, you’re drunk.” Alberta said, also standing.

“You guys are boring.” He snorted, sticking the needle in his arm and injecting.

You clasped your hand over your mouth as Bob swore loudly, slamming his hands on his desk.

“Do you know what you’ve just done?” He yelled at Martin, who was now wincing at the pain of the injection site.

“We… we have to quarantine him.” You murmured, and you ran to the storage closet to pull out rolls of clear plastic put there for this exact scenario.

“What’s the big deal? We know it’s not airborne now anyway, I’m not gonna bite ya!” Martin joked. For some reason this only made you panic more.

“Tape… tape! I need tape!” You called. Julia ran to her desk and scrambled in the drawer for a roll of duct tape, she threw this over to you. You immediately cleared a section in the furthest corner of the room. Standing on a chair, you attempted to tape the plastic to the ceiling but you were too short.

“Someone lock the door.” Bob instructed and then ran over to you to help you, together with Bob and most of the team you managed to tape up a temporary quarantine zone for Martin, but you knew you needed something more permanent soon as the oxygen in there would last 24 hours, tops, if you did a good job at taping up any gaps.

“Get him inside.” You instructed, rubbing your forehead as you began to think through next steps.

Martin was escorted inside the plastic and he was taped back in. Bob quickly discarded the needle securely and everyone stood around the plastic tent, shocked and stressed, watching Martin for any unexpected movements.

“Maybe… maybe it will all be ok.” Rebecca mumbled, her voice trembling.

“We need to whip up some more of the cocktail.” Maria stressed.

“That’s gonna take time, plus I’m not sure we’re all in the right frame of mind to be making something that’s going to go into a persons blood stream.” Mark pointed out.

Brandon had finally stirred awake as someone flicked the main light on, flooding the room with bright, sterile light, “What’s going on?”

Martin groaned.

Everyone turned to look at Martin through the plastic, he had passed out in the corner, likely due to too to the booze.

“Bradley said the symptoms are slow to start, but once they do they get bad quickly, but we likely have a bit of time.” You explained.

“Who’s Bradley?” Alberta asked.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Bob interjected, “Rue’s right, we can wait until the morning. Everyone go to bed, drink a lot of water because our minds need to be sharp tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement.

“I’ll stay and watch Martin.” Bob said, as everyone filed passed him, shaky and mostly sobered up now from the shock.

“We’ll take shifts.” Mark nodded.

You walked up to Bob and grabbed him arm, pulling him to the side. “Bobby this is all my fault, and you need to sleep, I can take your shift.”

Bob shook his head and cupped your face gently. “Beautiful girl, you don’t need to bear everything on your shoulders all the time. This was in no way your fault, Martin made his own choices, drunk or not.”

“But-“ you made to argue but Bob kissed you, stopping you in your tracks. You kissed him back, melting into him, until Mark cleared his throat.

You pulled away and looked at Bob one last time, before you walked out of the room.

Little did you know that would be the last somewhat normal day on the ship.

———————————————

You awoke to a loud siren blaring throughout the ship. Holding your pounding head, you sat up, confused.

Suddenly the night before flooded back to you, and you shot out of bed and got dressed as fast as you could.

You ran into the hallway to find people frantically scrambling towards the Wardroom.

You grabbed a crew members arm as she ran past you.

“What’s going on?” You yelled above the loud siren.

“There’s been an outbreak on the ship!” She cried, before running down the hall.

You stood for a moment in shock, and then remembered that Bob had been one of the shifts.

You legs started to move against the crowd before your brain could catch up, all you knew was you needed to find Bob and make sure he was ok.

As you pushed through masses of crew members, all of whom trying to usher you in the direction they were going, your mind raced to the worst case scenario.

Eventually you reached the lab, and to your relief, Bob stood with his arms crossed, next to Mark, speaking with Sergeant Williams, who was bright red in the face and angry.

Mark saw you first, and he immediately walked towards you.

“Rue, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep for 5 minutes-“ you walked passed him and straight to Bob who took you to the side.

“Martin got out.” Bob said.

“Have they found him?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Bob shook his head, and looked to the ground as he spoke. “He must have injected quite a lot, Rue. Symptoms must have kicked in already, there was blood everywhere, a couple of teeth in the hallway and a dent in the wall. We think he smashed his head, on purpose. A few of the crew found him…” Bob looked white, and took a shaky breath in before he continued, “They found him tearing off piecing of his skin in the men’s locker room before he ran off.”

You covered your mouth as tears sprang in your eyes, you felt like you were going to be sick, and not from the hangover. You stood a step back and keeled over, your hands holding onto your knees desperately as you waited for the dizzying nausea to pass. You couldn’t get the image of Martin tearing himself apart out of your head.

Bob kneeled in front of you and looked up into your eyes. “We’re going to find him and it’s gonna be ok. We know this thing isn’t airborne, so we’ve instructed everyone to keep their hands to themselves and sanitise. We’ll whip up a batch of the cure, give it to Martin when we find him and it will all be okay.” Bob lied, a soft comforting smile on his face.

You nodded, afraid to say anything as you might puke.

You carefully straightened, taking such a deep breath your lungs ached, ready to go and extract some Safficinolide and save Martin, when a blood curdling scream echoed towards you.

The four of you turned to look, and your knees nearly gave out at what you saw down the end of the long hallway.

———————————————

- Entry 7 Here -

I don’t have a Taglist for this series but I will be updating my Masterlist as I go! 💛

Likes and reblogs super welcome and appreciated!

#lewis pullman fanfic #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #top gun bob #miles teller #miles teller x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #apocalypse #post apocalyptic

[fox-moblin]

And The World Ends Again

Chapter 5 (Ao3 Link)

Linked Universe Post-Apocalyptic Mad Max-Inspired AU. All of the Chain feature. *** In the post-apocalyptic wasteland, where roaming bands of scavengers threaten the lives of lonely travelers and tribes of weary survivors do their best to live in a world their ancestors destroyed, it’s nice to find people who will watch your back.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu twilight #lu time #lu wild #lu sky #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu legend #lu four #malon #malink #lu fic #post apocalyptic #postapocalyptic #mad max inspired #atwea #and the world ends again #mobwrites

[lineffability]

oh......a soft postapocalyptic go fic...not a heavenly apocalypse but a classical human one.....whether it was war or nuclear disaster or a sun flare...doesnt really matter....no one really remembers....it's a forgotten but soft world...i read an anime once that has not left me...there was barely a story...just the gentle exploring of a peaceful world post post disaster...this setting but make it an azcrow fic....they've lived through it but like with all historical events they've come to accept it, they live among the surviving humans like they always have, carrying on like they always have.... it's atmospheric....is there a story in there? i have to think about it

#line's lines #to write #story seeds #noting this down now #just saw a fic with a similar premise and had to write up my own idea #i've always wanted to try my hand at a (gentle hopeful?) post apocalyptic story

[thelaundrybitch]

The Gingerbread House Competition

Hello My Turtle Doves 😍

I hope you're ready.

Because it's time to build some gingerbread houses.

and this was a collaboration with @post-apocalyptic-daydream you can find her portion HERE

Look out, I threw another OC at you 👀🐢💚

18+ content - for mature audiences only!

Reblogs only, please!

The Gingerbread House Competition

Prologue:

It all started with J.

With his makeshift gingerbread house he was building using graham crackers and vanilla frosting.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen, constructing and decorating to his heart's content.

You enter the kitchen with his brothers

A stack of pizzas in hand

*Heckling commences*

Hearing their teasing remarks, you make a decision.

"Maybe everyone should build a gingerbread house. The winner gets to choose their Christmas gift from me this year," you tell them.

All five boys exchange glances and nod with huge smiles.

"Well, if THAT'S the case…" J says, "I'm due for an upgrade," he tells you with a wink.

SO…

Each of the brothers does their research and plans out their design

And the results are phenomenal!

Well…

Almost.

Don

We all know our resident genius is a perfectionist with his projects

Methodical

Architectural

Mathematical

He draws out full-blown blueprints

And concocts the perfect gingerbread house-building material.

This bitch is structurally sound.

Could withstand an earthquake test.

This gingerbread house would put Taipei 101 to shame.

Steps back and assesses his current project.

Isn't satisfied with his results.

Has an idea that would blow the other houses out of the water for sure.

But it's gonna mean some slight disassembly and reconstruction.

And a buttload of icing.

Sighs and mutters, "Maximum effort" under his breath.

A few pots of coffee and two batches of iced snickerdoodles later…

He's wired lights to the inside of his little house for added flair

He clicks the lights on and stands back.

Totally worth it.

Raph

Big hands

Small crumbly gingerbread walls

Icing that's stickier than tacky glue

LOTS of swear words

Every single one in the book to be precise.

This poor man is struggling.

He chucks his second attempt at a "Stupid-assed house" across the room when the roof caves in for the fourth time.

He knows it's time to take a short break

Decides to work on his project in his woodworking shop

And that's where inspiration hits.

Suddenly he's in the kitchen

Rolling long sticks of Gingerbread and baking them.

Goes to Don and asks about the best combination of confectioners sugar and egg whites for the ultimate hold

Raph is Don's favorite, so he shares 😂

Thanks Don

Goes back to work

Starts with an open floor plan

Builds miniature furniture using candies and other snack foods.

Then he builds the house around his miniatures

And he builds a mother-fluffing log cabin

Like a boss

Shrubbery

Santa Claus

There's a rocking chair on the porch and everything

"Are those… candy… glass… WINDOWS?"

Red gives you a quick wink

*Peers in the little windows*

"Raph! Is that a fireplace inside?!"

"You know it is, baby," he smirks

Mike

Alright.

They challenged the wrong dude.

"Chef Angelo"

Mr. Kiss the Cook, himself

Fucking Mike

Has been blessed by the culinary Gods

And this culinary genius has DWARFED everyone else's creations

It's as tall as he is when it's sitting on the floor.

Towers

Gables

A working chimney

There's no beating this

Especially because not only does it look good…

But it tastes good

It's the Amaury Guichon of Gingerbread houses

"Mike! This is amazing! It looks absolutely incredible!"

*Winks*

"Looks aren't everything baby, once you have a taste, you'll be begging for more…"

*Gets smacked upside the head by Red*

J

Now

I know what you're thinking

Baby boy was caught in the kitchen with crackers and frosting

But don't forget

He is the perfect specimen

Brains for days

Artistically Inclined

Unbelievably competitive

Comes out with a fucking CASTLE.

It's taller than he is

And that's saying something

He's 7'4

It's equal parts gorgeous and unique

Looks like a culinary impossibility

Realistic trees

Hanging towers

A drawbridge

"How'd you get lights in the windows? I don't see any wires…"

"Oh. No lights. The whole thing was built on top of a mirror. The rays of light are refracted by candy glass in the peaks of the towers," he says like it's general knowledge.

*Crickets*

J just shrugs

Leo

Totally looks like a 5-year-old built it.

Imagine one of those "nailed it" memes

*Insert Leo's gingerbread house here*

Leaning

Drowned in frosting

Looks like it needs a “condemned” sign posted on it

And he was so proud

Until he saw the rest of his brothers’ creations

“Is there actually any gingerbread under there?”

“I think you used too much spray foam insulation…”

Chortles

Snickers

Cackling

“Well, shows how ignorant you all are,” Leo says with his arms crossed.

“It’s a Picasso piece, you uncultured swines,” he announces

All the guys bust out laughing while Leo pouts and sticks his tongue out at them

Like a 5-year-old

Splinter

Decides to jump in on the fun

And leaves them all gawking

Building a traditional dojo

That looks like something right out of feudal Japan

"Dad wins," says Basilio, at his first glance as he walks into the lair.

"Thank you, son. But I'm not actually part of the competition. I made mine for fun," he says, giving you a quick wink.

"Actually, these are all amazing. Can I take one to the hotel? I'd love to display one at the front desk," he tells his brothers.

The guys agree, and Basilio walks around to choose his winner.

"What happened here?" He teases his twin.

"It's modern art," Leo tells him in mock pride.

"Mine wouldn't have come out much better," Basilio whispers, placing his hand on Leo's shoulder.

"J! I'm taking yours," he announces.

"He only picked yours because you're the youngest," teases Mike.

"Favoritism," scoffs Raph.

"He doesn't want you to feel inferior," adds Don.

"I'd pick J's, too," says Leo.

*Cue everyone throwing a piece of gingerbread house at Leo*

Epilogue

You make your choice

Leo wins

By default

Because his is the worst and his brothers are relentless in their teasing

He requests a date with you.

It's a few days after the Gingerbread Disaster

(Click that link to find out) ⬆️

You show up early for the date

Finding him in the kitchen

*Gasp*

"Leo?! Did you make all these?"

Insert bashful Leo

*Swoon*

Ok back to the story

"Yeah…"

"They're fantastic! Why didn't you build these?"

"They're my tea houses. I didn't think they'd qualify…"

"Tea houses?" You ask him

He picks one up and places the mini house on a mug.

"OhmygoodnessSoCUTE" you whisper through gritted teeth.

*Chuckles*

He grabs your hand and walks you to the table where he has all the supplies to decorate gingerbread people.

"Is that what I think it is?" You ask.

Leo smiles at you.

"That's not funny, Leo."

"Don't worry," he giggles. I made a brand new batch of Gingerbread for these."

He pulls a chair out for you, and you start selecting materials for your Gingerbreadians

Leo comes over with a cup of black tea - mini house included

"You know, I would've definitely named you the winner with these… " You confess, smiling at the tiny house.

Leo closes in on you, a smile playing at his lips

"You know what would be really good with this tea right now?" He asks.

You shoot him a questioning look

"A candy cane," he says with a wink.

If you enjoyed it, Please reblog for others to enjoy🤩💕

Enjoying my work? Find my Master List HERE

~Tags~

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#thelaundrybitch #post apocalyptic daydream #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au #tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt hcs #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt OC J x reader #tmnt Christmas fic 2022 #tmnt aged up

[rshopson]

Meet Jonah, the main character from my WIP debut novel, The Drop, set in 2055:

“I was eleven years old when the world went to shit.

Literally. It just started falling away, chunk by horrifying chunk.”

@original-writing

#The Drop Excerpt #afrofuturism #writers on tumblr #scififantasy #science fiction #black writers #post apocalyptic #art #writing #dystopian #novel snippet #worldbuilding #futuristic art #speculative fiction #fiction #character intro #debut novel #The Drop #wip excerpt #fic wip #wip stuff #@original-writing

[illicit-eclipse]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡

The world had fallen into chaos after the outbreak of a deadly virus that had swept across the globe, decimating entire populations and leaving the survivors to fend for themselves in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The once bustling cities now lay in ruins, with crumbling buildings and overgrown streets haunted by the echoes of a world that had been lost.

In this new world, there were no rules and no laws, only the law of survival. The strong preyed on the weak, and the weak hid in the shadows, trying to avoid the dangers that lurked around every corner. It was a world where fear was a constant companion, and trust was a luxury that few could afford.

Among the ruins of the old world, a small group of survivors had banded together, forming a makeshift community in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of what had once been a thriving metropolis. They had managed to live out a meager existence, scavenging for food and supplies and fortifying their makeshift home against the dangers that threatened to engulf them.

But even in this desolate world, there were whispers of a new terror that haunted the survivors, a darkness that lurked in the shadows and fed on their fears. It was said that in the heart of the city, there was a place known as the Labyrinth, a maze of twisted corridors and hidden passages that was said to be home to a malevolent presence that feasted on the souls of the living.

The survivors had heard stories of those who had ventured into the Labyrinth and never returned, their screams echoing through the empty streets as they were consumed by the darkness that dwelled within. And so, they had stayed away, shunning the forbidden place and praying that they would never have to face the horrors that lay within.

But one night, as the survivors huddled together around a flickering fire, a lone figure stumbled into their camp, his body covered in bruises and his eyes wide with terror. He begged for help. Gasping for breath as he spoke of his family who had ventured into the Labyrinth in search of supplies, only to be ambushed by a horde of creatures that had emerged from the darkness.

The survivors listened in horror as the man described the creatures, twisted abominations with twisted limbs and sharp fangs, their eyes glowing with a malevolent hunger. He spoke of the screams of the fallen, the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones that echoed through the corridors of the Labyrinth, driving those who heard them to madness. But then he spoke of a light, a hope for the future of the survivors. A place in the center of the Labyrinth that was safe.

As the survivors listened, a chill ran down their spines, for they knew that they could not hide from the darkness forever. The Labyrinth beckoned to them, a siren call that promised untold riches and unspeakable horrors, and they knew that they had no choice but to face the terrors that awaited them within to get to safety.

And so, on a cold and moonless night, the survivors gathered their meager supplies and set out into the heart of the city, their hearts filled with fear but their resolve unyielding. As they entered the twisted corridors of the Labyrinth, they felt the darkness closing in around them, the air thick with the stench of decay and the sounds of skittering claws.

They moved cautiously through the maze, their nerves on edge as they searched for signs of the center. But as they ventured deeper into the darkness, they knew that they were not alone, for they could feel the eyes of unseen predators watching them, their breath hot on their necks as they waited for the perfect moment to strike.

Eyes open and continuously searching for a sign of threat, they marched forward towards the center of the Labyrinth.

And then, with a sudden roar, the creatures emerged from the shadows, their twisted forms lunging at the survivors with unnatural speed and ferocity. The survivors fought back with all their strength, their make-shift weapons flashing in the dim light as they struggled to hold back the tide of darkness that threatened to overwhelm them.

But the creatures were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless as they closed in on the survivors, their claws tearing through flesh and bone with savage precision. And as the survivors fell one by one, their screams mingling with the howls of the creatures, they knew that they had made a fatal mistake in venturing into the Labyrinth.

In the end, only one survivor remained, a lone figure standing amidst the carnage, his eyes wide with horror as he gazed upon the twisted forms of his fallen allies, knowing he led them to their untimely deaths. He knew that he was no match for the monsters that now surrounded him, their hungry eyes fixed on him with malevolent intent.

And as the creatures closed in for the kill, the survivor closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to whatever gods still lingered in this broken world. He knew that his fate was sealed, that he would soon join his fallen comrades in the darkness that awaited them all.

And then, with a sudden burst of light, the survivor opened his eyes to find himself standing in the ruins of the Labyrinth, the creatures gone and the darkness banished. He blinked in disbelief, unsure if what he had just witnessed was real or merely a figment of his imagination.

But as he looked around at the twisted corridors and hidden passages that surrounded him, he knew that the terror he had faced was all too real. And as he made his way back to the camp, his heart heavy with grief and his soul scarred by the horrors he had witnessed, he knew that the darkness would always linger in his mind, a reminder of the terrors that awaited in the heart of this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

#eclipse’s writing #☄️ #original story #original character #original writing #original work #spilled writing #writeblr #writblr #my writing #writing #story #short story #post apocalyptic #dystopia #fiction #my fic #my fic writing #dystopic #labyrinth #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #spilled words #original content #short fiction

[laiqualaurelote]

chapter seven: a little more than kin, and less than kind

“There’s an old joke in theatre,” says Ted. “If your director, your lead actor and your stage manager are in a burning house right before your show is about to start, who do you save first?”

Trent hazards: “The lead actor?”

“Exactamundo, Aureliano Segundo! By the time the show’s about to go on, you don’t need the director any more, and your stage manager can take care of themself, or they wouldn’t be your stage manager.” He claps Nate on the back. “Ain’t that right, Nate the Great?”

Nate ducks his head modestly. “That’s right.”

In the wake of the apocalypse, American comedy actor Ted Lasso winds up leading a Shakespearean troupe across the ruins of England. A Station Eleven post-apocalyptic theatre AU (no knowledge of Station Eleven necessary to read).

#ted lasso #ted lasso fic #nate shelley #nathan shelley #isaac mcadoo #colin hughes #dani rojas #sam obisanya #trent crimm #roy kent #rebecca welton #shakespeare #hamlet #station eleven #post-apocalypse #post-apocalyptic au #ted x trent #trent crimm/ted lasso

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 4 - knife - 1170 words - cw: knife, blood, sibling angst?, post apocalypse

and welcome to part 3 of lune generating random dates for the jegulus microfic prompts she hasn't done yet

this was supposed to be a little flirty held at knife-point banter but ngl this became somewhat of a character study i think, emjoy?

Regulus retracts the blade and with one swift motion, hauls the stranger around, throwing all his body weight into pressing him into the near wall, and snaps his fist up to hold the knife against their throat.

He goes with a surprised grunt, body tensing under Regulus’ grip but immediately slacking when the smooth brown skin of his neck presses against the cold blade.

There’s a faint shadow of facial hair over a strong jaw and a round nose peeking out from under the hood and everything Regulus can see under the dim light of the candles.

“You move a muscle without me telling you to and you die on the spot,” Regulus warns.

“Woah, now,” the other boy attempts, ducking his head but Regulus just presses the sharp knife in further, eliciting a hiss and a bared throat.

“What did I just say?”

“Yup, got it,” the boy rasps.

Regulus sneers. “Hands up,” he orders, “Slowly.”

Luckily for him, he does as told.

His palms are a few shades lighter and his long sleeve is equally dotted with holes and patches as Regulus’ is. There are holsters on both of his upper arms that are currently empty.

Regulus leans closer when he moves to push back the hood of the boy’s practical vest.

There’s a truly awful bird’s nest of hair underneath, black hair tousled and knotted and so long it flops down over his forehead. Thick eyebrows, a dark freckle above the right and then big doe brown eyes, framed by metal wire glasses.

Regulus swallows a bit.

The taller boy grins. Regulus doesn’t like it.

He angles his knife so that the pointy tip dents slightly into the thin flesh, “Who are you? How did you find our camp?”

The grin turns a bit lop-sided then and the boy cocks his head when he responds, “James.”

“Well ok, James, how did you find our fucking camp?”

James simply looks at him like he’s a bit stupid. Regulus doesn’t appreciate it at all.

“Hey, by the way,” James mumbles off-handedly, leaning into the blade—he’s going to get blood on Regulus freshly washed clothes, “That a gun in your pants or are you just really happy to—”

“Keep fucking around and find out,” Regulus snarls, not particularly concerned with the state of his clothes anymore. Puts more pressure behind the handle and watches it break the brown skin of James’ neck, a line of red that leaks a drop of blood at the end.

James hisses a pained chuckle. Regulus can see his hands tensing and unclenching in his periphery. 

Sirius always tells him he’s naive but Regulus is mildly aware of the fact that James could probably overpower him with pure muscle strength alone if he wanted to. Maybe he’s injured? Regulus frankly doesn’t fucking care, he can go find medical supplies elsewhere. They’re nearly out as it is.

James scans his face, licks his lips before he speaks again, “Sirius didn’t tell you, huh?”

Regulus’ eyes narrow, his grip tightening at the lapel of the other’s vest, “How do you know about Sirius?”

“I met him out hunting a few weeks back, I helped him shoot a feral stag. We’ve been meeting up almost daily since, we’re friends.”

Regulus is fuming. 

Of course, Sirius wouldn’t tell him. Of course, Sirius wouldn’t want to share. Introduce Regulus, let him be involved. Fucking bastard, Regulus hates him. He’s never going to speak to him again.

James tilts his head again, tearing Regulus from his thoughts, regarding him closely. “Though when he told me about his ‘little brother’ I definitely didn’t picture this.”

There’s something about the combination of James’ sharp, scrutinizing gaze and his soft, slack features that’s dangerously addictive—being subjected to such unfiltered attention.

It makes Regulus kind of want to gag him, tie him up and lock him in his room. All for himself. Finders Keepers. Have a little play date with Sirius’ shiny new toy and then toss it back to his brother over his shoulder when he’s done, when he’s lost interest. Oh and how Regulus would make sure to play with it. Use and abuse, scratch and pull and throw until it chips and threatens to break. See how his brother fucking likes it.

James looks vaguely willing and Regulus is confident he can be persuasive.

His eyes flit back down to the straight cut adorning James’ throat and the corners of Regulus’ lips lift into a smirk.

“Reg, I’m back,” chirped from the front of the greenhouse and Regulus growls. Feels the anger simmering right back up when he catches James’ eyes flitting in the direction of his brother’s voice.

Doesn’t pull away from James when he calls out, “Guess who’s visiting?” Satisfaction coiling low in his gut when James’ gaze lands back on him again.

It’s quiet for a few moments, none of them moving, none of them saying anything. A tense silence, filled with anticipation.

Which Sirius breaks with a sigh, Regulus hears him rounding the corner to come into view, “Listen Reg, I– shit, Regulus!” He storms over and forcefully rips Regulus back by his shirt.

He goes stumbling, catching his bearings as he watches Sirius pat James down as if scanning for more cuts, concern written clearly over his face.

Only turning to Regulus once James has verbally confirmed that he’s okay.

Sirius looks furious, “The fuck do you think you were doing?”

Oh, he has to be kidding.

Regulus scoffs a humorless laugh, “Protecting our home! What did you think you were doing, inviting a stranger to our camp?”

“James is my friend, we can trust him!”

“I literally caught him stealing!”

Sirius gives a frustrated groan, stomps over to the table James had been mucking about and wags the fern that was laying there into Regulus face, “He was bringing plants with healing properties.”

Regulus follows the movements of his brother where he goes to place it back down on the tabletop next to the bowl and mortar. 

He’s going to rip his fucking hair out.

“Still that doesn’t mean you can just invite anyone you like over! Did it even cross your mind once to ask me first?”

“I don’t have to! I’m your older brother, I know what—”

“Fuck you,” Regulus explodes. Can’t help himself when he throws the knife into the pillar besides James’ head.

“Regulus!” 

“No! Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to decide everything by yourself and treat me like a goddamn child—”

“This isn’t even about James anymore, you’re just being a petty idiot right now. If you would just listen—”

Regulus simply turns on his heels and marches off. Snatching an additional coat from the makeshift rack and two more guns.

Sirius sighs heavily, “Where are you going? It’s nearly nightfall.”

“Fuck if you care,” Regulus spits and ducks around the tarpaulin to the exit.

“Maybe I should–”

“No, leave him. He’ll be back.”

Little did his brother know it would be years before he saw Regulus again.

#post apocalyptic #jegulus microfic #jegulus #lune’s tiny fic #regulus black character study #black brothers #regulus black #sirius black #james potter #black brothers angst #starchaser #sunseeker

[luckiestb]

Luckiest on Earth- Doomslayer x reader

This is my first official fanfiction, so please excuse me for any bad writing or canon divergence. I’ll try to be as gender neutral as possible, but reader is implied to be feminine (and British). This is very self-indulgent for me, haha!

Chapter One: Adapt to survive.

(WARNINGS: Canon typical violence and gore, angst, this chapter acts as a prologue)

The sky was the first thing that indicated the apocalypse. It had turned a deep ruby red over the course of twenty minutes— half an hour, maybe. You remember glancing out of the window at your job, startled by the colour. You had asked your coworkers what was happening, and their guess was as good as yours. You had checked the news, and it was deemed a ‘weather phenomenon’.

‘Weather phenomenon’ your ass. About five minutes before the carnage (the ‘beginning of the end’ is what you named it), every device possible blared with that unsettling government warning, robotic voices demanding you get somewhere safe and await further instruction.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

You had turned to your coworker, a woman with chestnut hair who had only just came back from maternity leave, a look of concern etching itself on your face before the attacks began, the programmed message shooting a chill into your very soul.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

Those stupid grating voices still haunt your dreams. They kept playing the same loop, over and over and over as they were soon overlaid by the sounds of screaming. The screaming of people you knew, people you had grown to form connections with and cared about.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

Ugly creatures with even uglier souls had escaped onto Earth; an unquenchable, sadistic thirst for pain driving them to kill all those you loved and turn your entire life onto its head. You only barely managed to escape, thanking your lucky stars that you had the strength and courage to kill an imp that blocked your path. Unfortunately, it had burned the entirety of your calf in the struggle— but adrenaline was your friend, and you were able to ignore the pain for the meantime as you tried to find a place to hide from the monsters that were slaughtering masses of the human race by the second.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

Red. It was all you could see: in the sky, only interrupted by the terrifying blotches of unholy flesh flying across it; on the roads, in puddles sizzling as the rising heat met the blood shed; splattered up against the walls, being all that remains of the people in your sleepy town; and in their eyes, the eyes of those demons. You needed to find somewhere to hide, and fast. ‘If you don’t, they’ll get you. They’ll get you and tear you to shreds.’ You can hear the voice in your head screaming, your entire body set into overdrive.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

Home. You needed home. Your legs were already sprinting through the streets towards your house, swerving and dodging the gorefest. You didn’t pay attention to anything other than your yearning for home: didn’t pay attention to the screeching pain in your calf or the dying screams of the town. You tried not to pay attention to the alert message, drilling over and over into your head. If you had, you wouldn’t have made it home. You slammed the door open, grateful that it was located on the outskirts of town, giving you at least some time to prepare whilst the demonic invasion feasted on the busy centre.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

You grabbed a bag, the biggest backpack you owned, and filled it with essentials. Warm clothes, a torch with some batteries, a filled water bottle that might last you a day or two if you rationed, basic hygiene products, basic medicine such as painkillers and bandages… You lost track, losing yourself to instinct in order to avoid emotionally confronting this dreadful afternoon.

WARNING: EXTREME THREAT TO LIFE IN THE AREA, SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LEAVE AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.

You tried to tend to your leg, but your lack of experience meant you could do no more than wrapping up the forming blisters on red raw skin in bandages. ‘It will have to do-‘ you told yourself before a loud crash made you leap to your feet.

Wait. This isn’t how it happened.

You felt confusion and fear rise within you like bile as a horde of demons swarmed into your room. This wasn’t how it happened. This isn’t how your memory recalls it. They were upon you in seconds, tearing almost greedily at your flesh to watch the fountain of blood come forth. It wasn’t long until everything was red—

Red. Red, red, red— red red red—

And then you woke up. Your heart thumped against your ribs with the tangible fear from your trauma-induced nightmare. Sweat dripped down your grubby face as your picked up your small handgun and checked the perimeter of the room you had holed up in— twice, just to be sure that it was truly just a dream. As your logical mind insisted, there was nothing there: no demons and no carcasses, just a room.

You had been camped there for a few days, seeing as it was the first place you could truly rest at in weeks. Or maybe it was months, your grasp on time hadn’t been a priority since the beginning of the end. Your phone was long dead, stowed away in your bag alongside the charger, serving as your only motivator that you could maybe return to some normality and finally charge it.

You realised with a still jittery heart that it was time you move on. You needed to find one of the hidden ARC communes so you could finally be safe. You had heard of them, but you hadn’t exactly found another living human to get directions.

You mused on it as you packed your things, wondering how you’d react once you made contact again. Would you laugh? Cry? Instantly fall in love with whoever you find, no matter what state they’re in? You had been desperately lonely over the past few years as the apocalypse raged on: you had even tried to befriend a wandering zombie you had captured, until it had slashed you across your chest. You used the expansive scar to remind yourself that Hell’s children could not be reasoned with, no matter how kind you were to them.

You drained the room of any supplies you could: you broke up and wooden furniture for fuel and brazenly emptied every draw of any food or beverage you could (thank god one of the office workers had a stash of sweet treats). You finally began to move the desk you had propped against the door, mentally preparing yourself for the navigation through the unstable office building to continue your journey.

You huffed to yourself,

“Imagine how happy you’ll be once you can finally feel human touch again..”

The reminder stuck to the back of your mind, a consistent boost of morale as you slunk out into the dark, demon-infested world.

#doom slayer #doom slayer x reader #doomguy #doomguy x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #doom eternal #first fic #x reader #romance #post apocalyptic

[intistone]

Okay here we go hear me out…

Assassin AU starring two idiots and an unhinged killer

Sun and Moon work at their own repair shop in a dystopian-steampunk looking era place thing, with Sun being an inventor (usually makes toys for kids and gadgets) and Moon is a blacksmith who makes weapons (guns/knives).

Both are peacefully minding their own business until, of course, y/n stumbles into the picture.

Or in this case, walks right in with a gun at their face.

Being skilled and precise with their marks, y/n would usually have no hesitation being assigned to dismantle two animatrons (for some reason), but they hesitate for this once…

And they decide not to kill Sun and Moon.

Now on the run from y/n’s employers, the three are on the run, starting out as suspicious enemies and bonding along the way through this dark world. Eventually, they’ll grow close and voila, power trio

Thank you for reading this ramble lol

Bonus:

#fnaf sb #fnaf the daycare attendant #assassin au #steampunk #moon sb #fnaf moondrop #moondrop #fnaf sundrop #sun sb #fnaf daycare attendant #self insert fic #fnaf au #post apocalyptic #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #security breach daycare attendant #sun and moon