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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

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ain't no rest for the wicked — chapter one

ain't no rest for the wicked series

one: ain't no rest for the wicked

series masterlist | next chapter

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

words: 6.2k

summary: after an unfortunate encounter, you catch the interest of two very dangerous, very beautiful strangers.

warnings: dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, poorly negotiated d/s dynamics, poor communication, enthusiastic consent, oral sex (m & f receiving), stalking, canon-typical violence, ik i usually use game joel but anna torv has me in a chokehold sry, bittersweet ending/no happily ever after

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You’re eager. Joel doesn’t need to push your face into Tess’s cunt; you’re already diving in when he does.

But he knows Tess likes it like that. He likes it like that. He thinks you like it, too, from the way you’re moaning while he smothers you in her wet folds.

He lets you struggle for air for a moment before yanking you up by the hair and licking the taste of her from your mouth. He lets you go after, lets you properly worship her.

Thing is, you’re not really sure how or why this is happening. Well, you know how you got here, factually. It just doesn’t make any sense.

You had been cornered in a dead-end alley by two thugs. They had knives and no ration cards and were looking to make a trade of sorts. You were trying to argue that maybe they could keep their knives; no, really, you weren’t in the market, but you’d gift them the cards.

They seemed concerned you’d go to FEDRA since they hadn’t bothered to cover their faces. You were wearing them down a little, trying to negotiate, when one of them hit the ground and was dragged into the darkness. There was nothing to obscure the cries and wet sounds of knuckles meeting soft flesh.

“I thought I told you to stay out of this part of town,” a woman said from behind them. It was like a scene from one of your noir detective novels with the cracked spines and crinkled pages—a shadowy alley with one flickering light, a mysterious savior from the darkness.

The other would-be robber turned on his heel to face the voice.

“We-we didn’t realize this was part of yours,” he said. “It’s basically Robert’s.”

“But it ain’t,” she said. “And you fuckin’ know better.”

If the apocalypse had angels, they’d look like her. Tall, commanding, and piss-your-pants terrifying. Her mousy brown hair was as lackluster and dirty as everyone else, but you wanted to run your fingers through it. Wanted to tangle your hand in it, searching out her dusty rose lips.

Reality returned in the form of a hulking man tossing the beaten crook onto the ground by his partner, who stopped mid-plea with the woman to check on them.

You tore your eyes away from her to look at the battered but still-breathing man and followed the line of his attacker’s jeans to look at the monster who had emerged from the shadows. You were startled to find him looking back at you, eyes dark and intense. He was broad and rugged, with blood smeared on his cheek and fists.

Your eyes darted between him and the woman.

She was speaking to the last man standing again. “You need Joel to show you out?” She jerked her head at tall, dark, and haunted.

You locked eyes with Apparently Joel again before he looked at the simpering man and sneered. He didn’t even have to say anything. The thug was pulling his partner to his feet and trying to flee without looking like they were fleeing.

“They hurt you?” Joel said. When you didn’t respond, not really realizing he was addressing you, he rolled his eyes. “You, girl. Did they hurt you?”

“Oh, um, no. They just took my cards, but I’m okay.” Your tongue stumbled under their scrutiny. They were maybe two of the prettiest people you’d ever seen since the world ended, and you could feel your face heating up. “But, um, thank you.”

You wavered in place, wanting to get the hell out of there. They weren’t quite blocking your path, but the space they took up meant you’d have to get close to one or both of them to leave.

“Y’mean these?” Joel drawled, holding up your small stack of cards.

“Yeah,” you said. You bit the inside of your lip. He wasn’t holding them out for you to take, and you weren’t naive enough to think they’d just give them back. Their motive had definitely not been to save you; it was just a fortunate side effect.

Joel exchanged a look with the woman, thumbing through what was your only guarantee of food for the next couple of days.

“Not much here,” he told her.

She looked you over, which only made your heart beat faster, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “That all you got?”

You nodded.

“How bad do you want them back? I heard what you were offerin’ up earlier.” She smirked.

You really did not think you could get more mortified. “I-I—”

She strolled closer to you. “Y-you what?” she mimicked. “Pretty thing like you should be more careful out here. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You don’t know why you told her. Okay, fine, it was because she was so close and she smelled so good, and her eyes—well, you’d probably have told her anything right then.

“I’m Tess, that’s Joel,” she said and jerked her head back to where Joel leaned against the brick of a towering complex. He jerked his head in acknowledgment, jaw twitching.

“You got anyone out here looking after you?” she asked.

You opened your mouth, but seeing Joel flipping absentmindedly through the stack formerly known as your meal tickets shook you out of your stupor. Fuck, you were too fucking bi for this. And also, you hadn’t gotten laid in like. God, had it really been three years?

Anyway, your brain kicked back into gear. “Y-yeah, I’m supposed to be getting home to my family. They’re probably getting worried.”

She smirked, and you knew you were cellophane. “Alright, get goin’ then.” She looked over her shoulder at Joel. “Give her the cards, Tex.”

She didn’t move to let you by, so you sidestepped and tried not to walk too fast, even though you knew they could probably smell your fear like the predators they clearly were.

Joel didn’t hand you the cards right away, but he grabbed your arm when you were close. “You see those guys again, you tell ‘em we’ll be watchin’.”

You looked at him with what you meant to be a questioning expression, but it felt like you probably just looked dumb. He put the stack of cards into your coat pocket and let go of your bicep.

“See you around,” Tess called as you made your escape.

See you around? See you around?? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

When you get back to your apartment, you lock the door and slide to the ground, trembling as the adrenaline lets you realize just how fucking close you came to getting gutted.

And now there’s them.

“We’ll be watching,” Joel had said. Watching who? The leaden ball that used to be your stomach knows he meant you. They’ll be watching you. But fucking why?

Nobody’s home. Of course nobody’s home. You’re the sole resident of your tiny studio cube, save for the mice that you can’t keep out in the chillier seasons.

You probably could. But you don’t have the heart. They only come in the bathroom through the shitty insulation for the defunct vent. You keep the door shut with a towel jammed under it, and you leave crumbs on the peeling linoleum before bed.

It’s not something you’d ever have done before. But you know what it’s like now, to be cold and hungry in a world full of monsters.

Your brother used to say you were too soft for the world, and that was before the world went to shit. In fairness, you were a lot tougher now, for the most part.

Had to be, after you shot him in the head three weeks into the outbreak.

You jam your fists into your eyes and rub, clearing away the image with the ache.

Fuck, you almost died today. They had gotten the jump on you after you stopped to tie your sneaker. When you stood up, you weren’t alone anymore.

You’re upset about it for a few days, hustling through the crowds with your head on a swivel. After that, it joins the rest of your fears as an apparition, haunting your apartment’s groaning pipes and creaking floors.

All you can do is tell yourself the same lie of a mantra you do every night—I’m safe here.

As if such a thing were even possible.

The pendulum of your daily routine keeps on swinging. You keep your head down at work, quick with “yes, ma’am” and “no, sir,” quick on your feet when asked to hop to, and quick in hurrying home as soon as your shift ends.

Which is why you’re dismayed when you come in one morning to find out your direct supervisor was killed. Nobody cares why or how, just that there’s a spot to fill. They stuff you in it.

You deliberately did not overperform to avoid this, but if you refused, you’d be out of a work placement. The only thing keeping you from screaming was that the position got you a bump in ration class.

It’s barely a supervisory position, but each new responsibility is a sandbag tied to your ankles—you’re supposed to be on the same schedule, but inevitably, you’re there later and later each week.

So you become one of the apparitions in your apartment, half awake, floating through the motions while everything slips through your grasp.

Despite the better payout, you often don’t make it to a distribution stand before curfew. You can’t risk walking home with several days of class Bs, or you’d be dead in the gutter long before you made it back. So you take your one day’s worth and accumulate a little stack of cards under a loose floorboard.

You’re in the back of the line one evening, hoping you’ll make it to the front before they shut down. It’s raining in that way where the sun is out, though low on the horizon, the city trapped between two forces of nature.

The universe has a fucked up sense of humor because suddenly, so are you.

“Hey, sunflower,” croons a voice like honeycomb, quiet and close on your left.

You twitch forward, nearly jostling the woman in front of you, head whipping around.

“Eyes forward. Just listen,” rumbles a much deeper voice from the right.

You knew people had gotten in line behind you. You hadn’t known you’d been cornered.

“Thought you’d be eating better by now,” Tess says. “Guess you’ll have to come by for dinner. Tomorrow, right after work.”

Joel grunts in agreement. “Don’t let ‘em keep you late again.”

Then there’s silence. You wait a minute and then peek over your shoulder, but they’re gone.

What the actual fuck.

By the time you reach the front, you’ve decided it was a hallucination caused by whatever is splitting the atmosphere into two conflicting weather conditions.

But when you reach into your jacket pocket and pull out your cards, there’s a single class A ticket atop your stack. When you lift it to look closer, a scrap of paper almost falls into a puddle. You snatch it and take in the small letters, all caps in smudged black ink.

It’s an address.

It’s not until you get home that you replay the “conversation.” What had Tess meant by “thought you’d be eating better by now?”

It made sense, if they were watching you, that they’d know you’d been staying late. But what made them think you were getting better rations? Were they watching you so closely that they’d seen your tickets?

There’s a warning sounding in the back of your head, about as subtle as a tornado siren. You chuckle nervously to yourself as you stand in the middle of the kitchen-living-bed-room. It was an absurd thought. There’s no way they knew you got a promotion. And there’s definitely no way they… made it happen.

Denial brings your racing heart to a slow as you plug your ears to the danger. After all, you were a midwestern girl. You didn’t cower in the basement every time the siren went off, or you’d live life underground. So unless the sky swirled sickly green, or, say, they told you they killed your boss, you wouldn’t worry.

Nothing to it, really.

You were no one, after all. No one, who was being invited—as if you had a choice—to dinner with two violent strangers.

If only it didn’t make your panties damp, maybe you’d have the sense to skip out. You could politely excuse yourself the next time they popped up over your shoulder like a fucking slasher movie.

You can’t focus all day at work. You sit at your desk, trying to fill out the inventory sheets, foot tapping, leg bouncing. Your dad always used to tease you, “you gearin’ up to take off?” when you got nervous. It was a bit like the cordyceps. The more anxious you got, the less control you had of your body, the energy spreading and blooming and fuzzing over your brain.

By the end of the day, you’re tapping fingers, twisting your seat side to side. When your boss comes over at two minutes before you’re set to leave, you know he’s about to ask you to stay for “just a bit.” But you’ve already got your jacket and backpack on, you’re sitting on the edge of the stupid squeaky rolly chair, and when he opens his mouth, you beat him to it with a laugh that’s not not hysterical.

“Have a great day!” you blurt, and you’re up and gone before he can respond.

Once outside, though, you hesitate. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shoved in your pockets. It’s not raining today, but it’s overcast in the foretelling of the encroaching winter. The scrap of paper crinkles in your fist, dampening a little as your palm becomes slick with nerves.

“You comin’ or what?” Joel says from where he’s leaning against your office building, just to the left of the exit.

“Fuck!” It comes out in a truly embarrassing squeak.

He raises an eyebrow.

“What was the point of the little magic trick,” you waggle your fingers at him, “with the address if you were going to pick me up anyway?”

He pushes off the wall with his shoulder and starts walking, leaving you to jog after him. “Tess thought you seemed a bit squirrely.”

“If I didn’t want to get hit by a car, I’d get out of the fuckin’ road,” you say, a triggered muscle memory morphing another one of your father’s favorite phrases. Though, it was usually after he plowed over a fuzzy little guy, and you cried about it.

Joel shoots a glance at you over his shoulder. “Who’s the car?”

Your face heats. “What?”

He shakes his head but lets you off the hook. There’s something dangerous about the quirk of his lips, though.

You follow him as he weaves through the streets and crowds. People move out of his way, a few even scrambling off in another direction. He doesn’t miss them, eyeing and seeming to make a mental note each time.

You do not want to know why they were running.

His little jumpscare and the ensuing amount of focus it took not to get lost in the throng of others helped tone down your anxiety. Instead, you become very distracted by the way his denim button-down, stretched across his shoulder blades like it was clinging on out of the same fear of Joel as those runners.

God, he’s broad. Your mouth waters a little, thinking about running your hands across the breadth of his shoulders. Maybe digging your fingernails in a little.

He checks again to make sure you are still behind him and catches you moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue; the hungry look in your eyes matched by the way you were clenching the straps of your backpack with strained knuckles.

Luckily, he misreads it. He shakes his head again. “Calm down, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” But it’s invalidated a little when he turns back forward and shrugs a little to himself, head jerking to the side as if to say, “Well, probably not.”

You weren’t scared, but you are now.

He doesn’t wait for you as he climbs the stairs of the apartment building, but he leaves the door ajar for you to follow through a minute later.

“She try to chicken out?” Tess asked Joel with a shit-eating grin.

“No!” you protest. “I was comin’.”

“Were you?” Tess steps into your space, leaning forward. “Good girl,” she murmurs and reaches over your shoulder to shove the door shut. You stumble back a little, colliding with the reminder that your escape route is gone.

Worse yet, you have to witness them share a look when her words send a shudder through you.

She laughs, a soft huff of amusement on an exhale, and turns and walks away.

You stay glued to the ground in front of the door.

Joel’s still standing in the living room, arms folded. “Get goin’,” he says when you don’t move.

You shuffle under the arch where Tess disappeared into a small dine-in kitchen, with Joel suddenly close enough behind you that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He reaches past you and pulls out a chair at the table.

You try to scoot out of his way so he can sit, and he sighs, shaking his head, and guides you into the seat by the shoulder. His palm covers the whole joint, splayed across with his fingers brushing your collarbone.

A shocked “um” slips past your lips as you sit.

“Um?” he says, eyebrow quirked.

You’re burning. You’re on the edge of a fucking volcano, apparently, with the way you’re boiling under your jacket. You shuck it off, shaking your head. “Um, nothing.”

Tess sits across from you, elbows on the table and hands folded. You squirm under her steady focus, only to startle again when Joel sets a plate in front of each of you.

“You always so jumpy, sunflower?” she asks, taking a glass of water from Joel when he comes back over. He sets another next to you.

“No,” you say weakly.

Joel sits down between you with his own plate and glass, and your head snaps to look at him. He raises an eyebrow again. “You sure about that, sunflower?”

“Um, no,” you say. And then, stupidly, you tell them your name again, because it seems like maybe they forgot.

“I know,” is all Tess says.

Joel snorts.

“Be nice,” Tess says, still not taking her eyes off you.

Vaguely, you know she’s doing it on purpose. They both are. They want you off-guard and on-edge.

“Eat,” she tells you, finally breaking away to dig into her plate. Joel’s already halfway through his, not bothering to wait.

You look down, blinking at the sight before you. There’s mashed potatoes with gravy. There’s corn. There’s mystery meat, but it looks like some kind of roast, and most shocking of all, there are spices.

It’s definitely all still canned rations, but they’ve taken the effort to do something with them. The meat’s been broiled, and the juices saved for the gravy. The corn is roasted. And the fucking spices.

You eat a lot faster than you mean to, eyes wide. You usually eat your rations cold out of the can before passing out for bed. This is… this is incredible.

“Slow down,” Joel says. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“Where’d you get herbs?” you blurt.

It’s Tess’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You sure you want to know?”

“Oh. No, thank you.” Definitely not. You definitely do not want to know anything even potentially incriminating. You’re starting to feel like just being here is enough to get you in trouble.

The table falls into a stilted silence, and you have a bizarre thought. A memory, useless information from the before dug up by the wet blob of anxiety you try to pass off as a brain.

They’re beautiful and terrifying. They don’t seem the type to do something without getting something out of it. They brought you into their lair, and you ate from their table.

Your grandmama’s tales don’t seem very far-fetched right now. What was it she always told you to do? Hang a horseshoe over your door?

Where the fuck were you going to get a horseshoe in post-apocalyptic Boston?

The thought is so absurd that you laugh out loud, drawing both sets of eyes to you at once.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—remembered something, it’s not—it’s nothing.” You bury your face in your hands.

“Stop glowering; you’re going to give her a nervous breakdown,” Tess says to Joel.

“She’s scared of you, too,” he says simply, sipping from his water.

“Is that true, pretty girl? Are you afraid of us?”

You lift your head up, and though your instincts to run like hell are flaring up, you figure there’s no point in lying. “Well, yeah.”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Tess says, and then, in a horrible moment of deja vu, she seems to rethink that and shrug with one shoulder and a tilt of her head.

You look between them. “That’s not comforting.”

“I mean, we won’t hurt you unless you want us to,” she says. Her smile reminds you of a fox.

“Why would I—oh.” You purse your lips and feel like you’re shrinking.

Joel gets up and clears the dishes but doesn’t retake his seat. Instead, he looms behind you, both broad hands on the back of your chair. “We’re not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to,” he rumbles close to your ear. “But we think you might want to.”

“What do you say, sunflower?”

It slips out. You don’t mean to say it; it’s just a habit deeply engrained from work. But when your mouth opens to ask what exactly they mean, you say “yes, ma’am” instead.

Joel chuckles, a dark and dangerous thing that blows his hot breath over the exposed side of your neck. You shudder but don’t dare look away from Tess, whose grin has turned into smug pleasure.

“Told ya,” she says to Joel, standing and coming around the side of the table to where you are and taking your chin in one hand. She presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “I know a good girl when I see one.”

She tilts your head up so you watch. “And a good boy,” she says before kissing Joel.

He melts into it, and you moan. Like for real life, out loud, watching them kiss. She pulls away from him when she can’t hold back her smirk.

His eyes are soft when he watches her step back. She tightens her grip on your face.

“All yours, baby,” she says to him.

The softness is gone when he looks at you. His eyes are dark and hungry, and he takes your face in his own hands before kissing you. Unlike the sweet exchange with Tess, this kiss is bruising, and he licks into you without hesitation. One of his hands tangles in your hair and pulls your head to the side so he can bite his way down your neck.

You’ve got whiplash, and he grins when he lets you go and takes in your glazed eyes and swollen lips.

“C’mon,” Tess says, turning to go back to the living room. Joel tugs you up and pushes you in front of him to follow Tess. You yelp when he pinches your ass, though you probably should have expected it.

Tess sits on the couch, and your mouth goes dry as Joel kneels at her feet. You drop to yours, and Tess quirks an eyebrow at Joel.

“That how you want her?”

He shakes his head and pushes you down so you’re bent over in supplication below him.

“Don’t move unless I tell ya,” Joel says. “You need or want to stop for any reason, just say so. Got it?”

You moan at his words, no longer having the wherewithal for embarrassment. You’re starting to become very aware of your place in this. And it’s fucking thrilling.

He lifts your head by a handful of hair. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, letting your head back down and running his hand over your cheek.

“You like havin’ a little toy for yourself, baby?” Tess asks him, running her fingers through his hair and tugging a little.

He moans. “Yes, ma’am, thank you.”

“See, sunflower, Joel here’s been a real good boy, but sometimes he needs to play a little rough. Ain’t that right?” She nods his head with her grip on his hair.

“Please,” he whimpers.

You’re soaked. You’re fucking soaked, and all they’ve really done is talk.

“You wanna be a good girl for us?” Tess asks.

It’s your turn to whimper. “Yes, ma’am. Uh. And sir.”

“We’ll go easy on you today,” she muses. “What do you need from her, baby?”

Joel doesn’t need to think it over. “Need to fuck that pretty little mouth,” he says.

It’s so crass that you flush, wet gathering rapidly between your thighs. You squirm a little.

“Ok,” Tess agrees. “You can have my sloppy seconds.”

And then she’s tugging her pants down, letting Joel lean forward to grab them as she lifts her hips. He yanks them off and folds them, setting them to the side.

You keep your cheek pressed to the carpet where he put you, watching the motions with rapt awe. You’re betrayed, however, by your wriggling feet.

“S’matter?” Joel says.

“What? Um. Nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow, but it doesn’t spark anything. Your eyes dart back and forth between them.

“I’m gonna let that slide, since you’re getting used to it. But if you address me, you better do it proper.”

“Oh.” The realization leaves you on an exhale. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Atta girl,” he says with a little pinch to your chin.

Tess nudges him with her foot and shoots a laden look at where you’ve fallen very still, and the taut line of your spine has softened a little.

She smirks.

It doesn’t last, though. You’re biting your lip and looking at him while your right foot taps against the floor.

He turns back to Tess, rolling her panties down until he can tug them off her feet and tuck them neatly into the fold of her pants.

He reaches over and presses his thumb to your bottom lip until it pops free from your teeth. Your mouth falls open in its wake.

“Up,” he says.

You push up onto your knees and watch as he leans forward to press a soft kiss to her cunt. He nuzzles in a little, nose nudging her clit as he tastes.

She lets him for a few seconds before tugging him back by the hair. “Don’t be selfish.”

He looks at you and jerks his head.

You shuffle forward, and he puts both hands on your shoulders to shove you between her thighs, arranging you so he can kneel, chest flush to your back.

You shiver.

“Ever eaten pussy?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you say, a little breathless, while he leans around, boxing you in with his arms while he spreads her lips. You take in the way she glistens, and your mouth waters. “It’s been a while, though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmurs, deep and close to your ear. “S’like riding a bike.” He strokes a finger over her clit, and her cunt clenches around nothing.

“I don’t know how to ride a bike,” you say, and wonder why.

Joel, to his credit, just shakes his head and ignores you.

“She likes a little figure eight here,” he says, head still bowed conspiratorially as if she couldn’t hear every word. “And if you switch between fast n’ gentle here,” he presses his finger to the first knuckle inside her.

He pulls it out and pinches her labia between his index finger and thumb. “Suck here, and bite soft.”

It’s like they’ve dragged you in from a blizzard. Everything is so hot; your pulse throbs in your fingers, and you’re sweating as if bundled in front of a hearth.

“Please?” You whisper. You’re not sure who you’re asking.

Tess laughs, a soft and pleased thing you haven’t heard yet. You want more.

And that’s how you ended up here, somehow still fully clothed, swirling your tongue against her clit.

Joel pushes your shoulders down so you’re bent over at a sharper angle. He solves the clothes problem by tugging your jeans and underwear down to your knees.

“Go on,” Tess tells him around a soft moan.

You’ve worked your tongue gently inside before diving in for more, lapping at her like they hadn’t just fed you the best meal you’ve had in years.

Your efforts stutter when Joel’s hot mouth latches on to your cunt. You cry out but get your act together quickly, nuzzling in like he had done earlier.

Her fingers grasp at your head, grinding your face down where she needs. At the same time, Joel has his hands around your thighs, fingers pressing tight enough to leave a mark while he feasts.

You can’t tell, as focused as you are on your own task, but he’s studying the way you twitch and gush with each motion. He’s a quick learner and soon has you struggling to keep up.

When you press two fingers into her cunt, Tess rewards you with her orgasm as you suck and lick her clit. You take everything she has to offer, which is when Joel yanks you away from her to share in the indulgence. He works a second orgasm from her very quickly. When he’s done, he pushes you to the ground and returns to work at you.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he growls. “Come on, give it to me.”

And you do. He’s relentless, and your body responds to each touch from his broad fingers and broader tongue. You’re vaguely aware of the scrape of his teeth on your clit, the ferocious way he slams his fingers into your aching core as you shake apart around him.

He’s hesitant to pull away when you come down from it, but you’re squirming a little from the intensity, and he’s got a dark look in his eyes anyway. “My turn?” he says.

“Go ahead, baby,” Tess says. She’s sprawled languidly on the couch, one hand between her legs, gently rubbing at her clit while she enjoys the show.

Joel pulls his cock out, and even though you’re exhausted to the point where you can’t hear your thoughts over the pounding of your heart, you lurch forward immediately.

It’s gorgeous and engorged, impatient after waiting so long. You reach for it first, one hand cupping his heavy balls and the other sliding down the velvety length of him. Your mouth follows close behind, licking at the slit.

“Think you can take it all?” he says. “You ever deepthroated someone my size?”

“No,” you admit, “but I’m a quick learner.”

His responding grin is wicked. “Good. I got a lot to teach ya.” And without further acclimation or dramatics, he grabs the back of your head and pulls until his cock hits the back of your throat.

You gag, of course, coughing and sputtering. He eases up to let you back, but you don’t pull all the way off. You take a minute to breathe around him and swallow him back down.

He lets you set the pace for a minute, groaning as you bob up and down, swirling your tongue around and moaning at the way his salty musk mixes with the sweet tang of Tess.

He lets you pull off, even, watching to see what you do when left to your own devices. You stroke his cock in one hand and cradle his balls in the other, nuzzling and licking them before taking them in your mouth one by one to roll on your tongue.

He moans but tugs you away after you properly worship both.

“Y’got a sweet little mouth, sunflower. But I need ya chokin’ on it now. Just stay nice and open for me.”

With no further preamble, he holds your head with both hands and fucks into your mouth.

You’re not too surprised to find yourself on the edge of an orgasm. Back in the day, when you were still trying to pretend normal life was possible and playing at being a girlfriend, sucking cock had been a favorite pastime.

Granted, Joel’s cock was another beast entirely. Maybe literally. Your brain pulls itself together long enough to reconsider the fae theory before he fucks the thought out.

It’s a fucking mess. You can barely close your lips around him, drool slick on your chin. The only mercy he grants is when a particularly rough thrust has you tapping his leg, afraid you might puke.

He pulls back, hand tipping your chin up to check you over, but you’ve recovered already and strain to get your mouth back around him.

He relinquishes, letting you slide him down as far as you can.

He chuckles. “Looks like we got a real cockslut here,” he says to Tess.

She grins. “I dunno; I think she might just be a slut in general. Pretty needy for my cunt, too.”

His hand strokes your cheek as he picks the pace back up. “That’s a good girl. Fuckin’ take it. Shit,” he groans as he works deeper yet.

“Ah, fuck,” he gasps, tearing his eyes from you to seek out Tess. “Please?”

“Please, what, baby?”

“Please, can I cum down her throat?”

“Not yet,” she says.

He whimpers but doesn’t dare disobey. His thrusts are frantic and harsh as he fights the urge.

“Sunflower, d’you think you can cum when he does?”

Your eyes roll back in your head. “Mhmmm,” you moan around him.

“Alright, baby. Give it to her.”

And fuck, does he ever. He buries himself deep, and for a moment, you think you’re not actually going to be able to handle it. But the feeling of him twitching and the sound of his pleasure are enough to push you over the edge, overriding your gag reflex.

“Oh fuck,” he repeats. “Oh shit. That’s it. Fucking take it all.”

When he pulls his softening cock from you, you sway forward a little. He catches you with hands on your shoulders before sitting on the ground in front of the couch and pulling you roughly into his lap. From the couch above, Tess reaches to run her hands through his hair before rubbing a hand on your shoulder.

You wrap a hand around hers, hoping she won’t pull away. She doesn’t, instead tucking a thumb over your hand to hold you there. Your head tilts back against Joel’s shoulder as her other hand cups the back of his neck.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and then leans his back to rest against her hand.

The sun has tucked down behind the rise of the city, and the post-orgasmic reality is settling on your shoulders. As much as they had made a place for you for that blissful fragment of time, you’re suddenly hyperaware of your intrusion.

“Where’s, um. Where’s your bathroom?” You ask.

Tess directs you, and you pry yourself from their warmth and tug your jeans back up. You wipe away the evidence of your adventure and stick your face under the cold faucet to clear the lingering haze from your brain.

They’re still sitting when you come back out. Joel’s on the floor with his knees bent and legs spread, leaning back to where Tess has his head in her lap. She’s running idle fingers through his hair.

You don’t want to linger and get kicked out. It’s not that you don’t know what this is; you just want it to end on your terms. When you shoulder your bag to broadcast your intentions, Joel gets to his feet.

“Let me walk ya home,” he says.

“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

He scowls. “It’s gettin’ dark.”

You give him a wan smile and rub the back of your neck. “I’ve been walking myself home in this city for years.”

It’s not like you’re stupid enough to think they don’t know where you live. But this way, you can still pretend.

“Yeah, and look where that got you the other night,” he says.

Tess stands and stretches and nudges Joel. “Down, boy,” she teases. “Let ‘er go.”

“But really,” she says while you tug on your boots. “We thought you’d be eating better. You need another promotion?”

You look between her and Joel. “No, I do not.”

“It’s an easy enough problem to solve,” he says with a shrug.

Oh god. “No, please don’t solve anything. Let’s, uhh, let’s just never talk about this again.”

“We can just—“ she starts, but you plug your ears.

It’s too late. Joel’s smirk could silence the birds. And you know, once you’ve heard the whistle, the twister’ll be deciding your fate soon.

“Suit yourself,” Joel says.

“Okay, well, um,” you say, backing into the hall. “This has been really great and so weird, but, um, it’s almost curfew and—“

“See you later, sunflower,” Tess says as you close the door behind you. It doesn’t sound like a casual, rote farewell. It sounds like a promise.

next chapter

*title from "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel x tess #joel x reader x tess #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #ain't no rest for the wicked series #the last of us fic #the last of us smut

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mothandpidgeon · 2 months

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The Outlaws (Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: T (eventual E 18+ MDNI)

wc: 1.7k

summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.

tags: old west au, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, period/genre/canon typical violence, alcohol, morally grey characters, reader has backstory, no use of y/n

authors note: Posting this today in honor of act ii. Yeehaw. As always, thank you @ezrasbirdie for the beta and support in this (you really need to tell me to stfu about these two) and in life.

Joel once took Sarah to see PT Barnum’s Greatest Show on Earth. Each ticket cost him two quarters. She pulled him by the hand past the tents with Tom Thumb and the giantess, straight to the exhibition of wild animals. There were all sorts of exotic animals in the menagerie– giraffes, elephants, snakes. You remind him of the tiger. Beautiful and cunning. Fierce. Dangerous unless it’s kept under lock and key.

Which is why he’s grateful he kept these old shackles in his saddle bag.

You’re in a friendlier mood once camp is set up and a rabbit is roasted on a spit. He knows it’s a rouse, that you’re still spitting mad and hoping to slit his throat in the night. On that train, you were the demure damsel in need of a rescue. Soon as he put that cuff on your wrist, you turned into a fire breathing dragon.

You can be as mad as you’d like. You’re no match for his strength or his revolver.

They sit around the fire, Joel and Ellie propped against their saddles. It’s a cool evening, a steady breeze blows off the river. The stars paint the purple sky and the cave is illuminated with the orange glow of a fire. There’s plenty to celebrate. Though, even when they score a good amount of money, gold pieces, and get away without a scratch, Joel never feels much satisfaction. Despite his personal quandary, it would be a beautiful night, really, if Joel weren’t sitting there waiting for you to do something foolish.

He can tell you’re meditating on some new escape plan, knows better than to look at you too long. A girl like you, pretty and with that sharp mouth, is the type that knows how to use her womanly wiles. You’re desperate enough to try just about anything and he’s not giving you the chance.

You must think he’s stupid enough to fall for it too. He reluctantly passes you his flask and, after you drink, you wipe your wet lips with a seductive finger.

Ellie’s being a real chatterbox, recounting each moment of the robbery as if she’s writing her own nickel weekly and peppering you with questions. He’s not surprised she’s taken a liking to you. There aren’t too many of the female persuasion out here. Maybe she can see some of Tess in you. He doesn’t. Tess was always calm and controlled. And when she was angry, she never fucking spit at him. In fact, he resents you for making him think about Tess at all.

“Ten thousand dollar bounty, huh?” Ellie asks you. “What’d you do?”

Joel’s seen more than a few people running from the law but none of them look like you. You’re no Annie Oakley.

“My sweetheart was fooling around with my sister so I killed em both,” you say.

“Really?” Ellie asks.

“No,” you say.

“What was it really?” she tries again.

“Leave it,” Joel says.

He’d be just as cagey about his past. Outlaws don’t live by any code but if they did, questions like that would be frowned upon.

Ellie grumbles at him.

“I’ve got ten on me too,” she tells you.

“Your daddy must be proud,” you say, looking to Joel.

They respond in unison— “He’s not my Pa,” and a “I ain’t her daddy.”

You do a lousy job suppressing a smile.

“So this is the infamous Miller gang? Ain’t much of a gang if you ask me,” you say.

Joel grinds his molars.

“We used to be a proper one. Most of ‘em are in prison now. And then we lost Tess to a bout with fever. And Tommy left,” Ellie recounts.

“Who’s Tommy?”

“Nobody,” Joel says same time as Ellie tells you, “His brother.”

You look Joel up and down.

“That’s enough yakking for tonight,” he says. “I’m turning in. C’mon.” He pulls the chain.

Ellie laughs. “I should warn you. He snores something awful.”

You scoff. “Is this some kind of ploy so you can wake up on top of me?” you protest.

Joel’s patience is wearing thin. He’s got half a mind to turn you loose and let the wolves deal with you.

“You can quit the belly aching, missy. I ain’t taking that thing off til you’re with the sheriff in Jackson.”

“You’ll wear him down eventually,” Ellie encourages.

“Ellie, go to sleep,” Joel orders.

She rolls her eyes.

“What if I got to use the privy?” you ask.

“Hope you like company,” Joel says.

You huff.

“You at least going to give me a blanket? Cold out here,” you say.

Joel’s only got one in his bed roll, a beautiful Pawnee blanket he bought off a trader from Kansas woven with geometric patterns. He knows it would be gentlemanly to let you sleep with it but you’re no lady.

He sighs as he hands it over. You wrap it around your shoulders with a self-satisfied look on your face.

“Anything else I can do for you, missy?” he says with mock cordiality.

“You can stop calling me missy,” you say.

“G’night, missy,” he says.

It’s not your best plan. But just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it won’t work.

First step, you wait for Ellie and Joel to fall asleep. The girl takes a while. She’s got a dime novel with a cowboy on the cover that she flips through as the flames die down. You watch her through your cracked eyelids, pretending to have already drifted off yourself.

It’s hard to tell if Joel’s out. He uses his saddle as a pillow and you’ve positioned yourself on the other side of it, your arm outstretched so you don’t have to be too close to him.

He murmurs to himself. You strain to catch what he’s saying. At first, there are words you can understand. The name Sarah passes his lips. But then you hear him make a sound you can only describe as a whimper.

It gives you pause. You’ve never been a nurturing type but it pulls at your heart strings, almost makes you want to put your arms around him. You imagine a hurt puppy inside that big, snarling dog of a man.

His sharp silhouette is highlighted in the amber glow of the campfire. It’s a shame he’s such a mean son of a bitch because he really is easy on the eyes. Then he rolls over. His unexpected motion nearly twists your connected arm out of its socket and you bite your tongue to keep from swearing. That bastard has you chained up like a dog. You do all you can to control your temper, swearing soundlessly. You can’t afford to wake him.

You wait a long while, listening to him grunt and snore. Once you’re sure he’s good and asleep, you move.

It’s a process. You begin by flexing your wrist. An innocent gesture that could be explained by sleepy twitches. He doesn’t stir.

Eventually you feel bold enough to inch towards him, pulling the chain carefully along the ground. You crawl on your belly until you’re in front of him, then you dare to lift your hands up.

The chain clinks against the buzz of the night insects and you swear it’s so loud you hear it echo off the mountains. You hold your breath, wide eyed, every muscle in your body taught.

Joel doesn’t wake. He might be pretending but his chest still rises and falls slowly. Either he’s a hard sleeper or he’s deaf. Might be a little of both. You’re always tired after the rush of a big score.

Ellie hasn’t woken up. Her eyes are closed, mouth hangs open. Down for the count.

You flex your fingers before you begin the next step, lick your lips and take a steadying breath.

You’ve picked pockets before. Never tried it on a sleeping man, though. You keep your touch light, delicate, unbuttoning his waistcoat with one hand. It falls open for you and you can’t help but smile.

The key to the handcuffs is tucked in the inner pocket. You saw him put it there. All you have to do is lift it out, unlock the cuff, and you’re a free woman. What you’re going to do after that, all alone in the middle of god only knows where, you’re not sure. But that’s not of material importance until you have that key.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you move slower than molasses in January, easing your first two fingers into the little pocket. Your fingertip connects with metal and your heart jumps. Pinching the ringed end, you hold on and pull. It’s awfully heavy.

Because it’s not the key at all. You’ve fished a pocket watch out of Joel’s vest. Damn it. It’s a dainty little thing— fine gold with intricate scrollwork engraved on the back. The face is all busted up and it doesn’t seem to be ticking. Most importantly, though it’s not a key. You need that goddamn key if you want to get—

The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked makes you freeze. Joel’s awake, dark eyes shining in anger. You’ve had guns pointed at you on a number of occasions but still it makes your blood run cold.

“The hell are you doing?” he asks.

“You’re dreaming,” you tell him.

He doesn’t think that’s cute. The scowl on his face just deepens.

“Alright,” you say, raising your hands in surrender.

You put the watch back in place and crawl back to your spot.

“Gimme the damn blanket,” Joel growls.

You toss it to him, cowed. But what did you expect? This had never been a very good plan.

Once you hear the hammer of Joel’s gun go back into place, you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s quiet for a while as Joel gets under his blanket and you know he’s laying there waiting for you to fall asleep.

You try to settle down, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night air bites at you now that you’ve lost your blanket privileges.

“Sarah a sweetheart of yours?” you ask him.

His head snaps your way so fast you think his neck might break.

“You was talking to her in your sleep,” you explain.

“Say that name again and I’ll wring your neck,” he says.

He sounded like he meant it before but you feel like he’s looking forward to putting a bullet in you. You shiver. You’re smart enough not to say another word.

---

Chapter 3

I'd love to hear from you! Comments and reblogs appreciated. My asks are always open!

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #ellie williams #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #outlaw!joel miller #joel miller au #tlou au #old west au

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j0elmill3r · 1 year

Text

isn’t it lovely?

Pairing/s: Ellie Williams x Miller!Reader, Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Tess Servopoulos x Daughter!Reader (Brief)

Request: Ellie x Miller reader ANGSTTTTT lol

Ellie finds out that the reader lied to her about what happened with the fireflies and ignores her? Just like Joel, but instead of Joel going golfing the reader does, or maybe they both I don’t know lol THANKS🫰

Summary: Ellie regrets being so cold and harsh towards you after finding out the truth about what happened at St Mary's Hospital.

CW: Angst, heart break, character death, Abby's golf skills are incredible

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Here we go, another fic were Miller reader goes golfing!

My Masterlist

You knew why Ellie wasn't talking to you - You had lied to her, betraying the trust that was crucial in your relationship; You had a feeling you deserved it, but you did what you did to protect her, to save your at the time 'best friend'.

You panted as you ran through the hospital, clutching your gun tightly as your feet smacked off of the linoleum flooring, the flashing red lights illuminating the halls of St Mary's hospital. Following the trail of bodies left by your dad, you made your way up to the room where they were operating on your best friend, deciding to take the backdoor, you nudged it open, just as your dad did at the door opposite you.

"Unhook her." Your dad demanded, aiming his gun at the surgeon in front of him. You looked over, noticing Ellie lying on the operating table, various machines beeping beside her, all sorts of wires coming in and out of her.

"No, I won't let you take her," The surgeon said to your father. No. You couldn't let this happen, you wouldn't let them take away your best friend, not today, not ever. Acting quickly, you shot the two nurses standing beside you in the chests, swiftly jumping to your feet from your crouching position. The surgeon had no time to react before you fired a shell into his head - Joel looked over at you, you couldn't tell if he was scared of you, or for you.

"Dad," Joel hugged you wordlessly, placing his chin on the crown of your head for a minute before turning to Ellie. "What do we do now?" You looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes. Joel sighed, looking at Ellie and then at you.

"We leave, go back to Jackson and stay with Tommy," You nodded, however, you couldn't ignore the feeling of guilt which bubbled in your stomach - the emotion was obviously clear on your face, since you could make out from the little light provided in the room. "We tell her that there were other's like her, okay? Now come on, we need to move. You shoot if you have to, understand?" You mulled the thought over and nodded, you hoped that you'd never crack if Ellie asked you - As bad as it sounded, some memory loss at this moment in time didn't actually sound too bad. It didn't make sense, you had come all this way for nothing - You watched your mother die for nothing, watched as Sam and Henry both died, been through the whole David situation with Ellie, had that all been in vain?

Sighing, you followed your dad - Just as you knew that you always would.

"Ellie, come on," You followed your girlfriend as she grabbed her stuff from your room, shoving it into her backpack harshly. She had found out about the hospital and what you and Joel had done. "I don't know what you want me to say, Els." She huffed, stopping shoving things into her bag as she stared you down.

"You lied to me, Y/N. You fucking lied to me," She spat. You looked away from you, unable to meet her harsh gaze, which you ultimately knew you were deserving of. "I don't know if I can ever forgive you, or your dad. I don't wanna talk to you for the time being, understood?" You nodded, tears filling your eyes as you looked away from her.

"Okay," Your voice broke as you spoke, still unable to watch as Ellie made her way out of your room. "I love you." You told her, your heart breaking as she just walked away wordlessly. You sighed in acceptance, realising that you had fucked up majorly this time. You watched through your window, making sure that Ellie got away safely.

In the days after, you noticed Ellie getting closer with her friend Dina, who you knew had recently broken up with her boyfriend, Jesse. Dina was gorgeous, and you saw the way that Ellie looked at her, she used to look at you the same way. But you and Ellie hadn't officially broken up, and you knew that Ellie wouldn't cheat on you, right? Maybe, not so right - Joel had dragged you to the small gathering in the church, which unbeknownst to him, Jesse, Ellie and Dina were attending.

"Dad, this is so stupid, I'm fine," You tried to convince him, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting as your dad chuckled.

"You haven't left the house in 4 days, you needed air and to talk to other people," Joel smiled, trying to get you to reciprocate the gesture - It however, didn't happen, since you were focused on the fact that Ellie and Dina were now locking lips - Thanks to Ellie's initiation.

So, this was why she had been ignoring you for the past 4 days. She had been planning her relationship with Dina? Your mind spiralled, had she been with Dina the whole time? Were you the other girl? Did she ever actually love you? Your stomach dropped, your heart cracking in two as the two girls pulled apart, you put your drink down on the table beside your dad, Joel looking over and realising what had upset you so much. "Baby girl." He called out for you, watching as you left the church. Ellie and Dina looked over to the doors which you stormed out of, and then looked over to Joel as he came over to them.

Joel loved Ellie as if she were one of his own - but you were his baby girl, and he couldn't stand by and let Ellie get away with hurting you like that.

"What?" Ellie asked him, her tone as if she were offended by Joel's very presence. Joel scoffed and raised his eyebrows at the girls audacity.

"Seriously? You do this to Y/N and you have the audacity to act like this? I know that you're not happy with her, but you never broke up with Y/N," Joel seethed. Dina excused herself and made her way back over to Jesse, who walked away from her - their relationship, similar to yours and Ellie's, had barely ended, and now she was here kissing Ellie. "I thought you were better than that." This time it was Ellie who scoffed, shaking her head at Joel.

"Really? That's really fucking ironic, Joel, since all you and Y/N did was lie to me for 5 years. I thought you were better than that," She spat. Joel sighed, he thought Ellie was being too harsh on you. You were still a child at the time, you just wanted to do good by your best friend and your father, you did what you did to protect Ellie just as he did - But he would take all of Ellie's anger towards you and take it himself, he would do it to see you happy with her again, but after this, he was unsure if he would be able to see you happy again. Joel shook his head and walked away from Ellie, saying goodbye to Tommy and Maria, and that you and him would see Tommy tomorrow for your patrol.

You grunted as you were thrown to the floor, your dad and uncle Tommy forced into the same position as you. The room was cold and dark, illuminated only by the soft white glow of the falling snow outside - You looked up at the girl in front of you, she couldn't have been much older than you were, but she was taller, more muscular. She looked down at you, anger in her eyes as she met yours but quickly looked away, making her way over to your dad, who sat by the window, a torniquet around his leg.

"Joel Miller," She seethed, crouching down in front of Joel.

Oh.

Oh, fuck. You knew this girl - She was in the hospital when you rescued Ellie, you heard her crying out for your father when you were clearing out the floor for supplies, which you had insisted on doing since you were the smallest and quietest, meaning you were less likely to get caught - Her dad was the surgeon you had killed. Your breathing picked up as you saw her pick up a golf club and inspect it, looking at it and then at your dad.

"Stop! I know why you're doing this," You called out, all eyes turning to you. "I killed your father in that hospital, not my dad." You told her. Joel's heart stopped - Were you trying to get yourself killed?

"Get her over here, get him down there." Abby demanded. You struggled and grunted as you were picked up by two strong men.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Joel yelled out as he was held down, watching as you were punched in the face, near enough knocking you out. Heaving, Abby turned to Joel, looking down at him with the same golf club still in your hands. "I'll kill you if you lay a fucking hand on her, you hear?!"

"You don't get to rush this, old man," She said through gritted teeth, watching as Joel struggled in vain. He watched in trepidation, his heart pounding against his chest, the dull ache in his temple becoming stronger and stronger. He watched as Abby let out a grunt, swinging the golf club down onto your head, cracking it open with a sickening thud.

"No!" Joel cried out, watching as the spray of your blood stained the window behind you and you fell to the ground, groaning quietly. "I'll fucking kill you! I promise!" Joel threatened her, watching as she continuously kicked you in the stomach, then in the head to add insult to the crack in your skull.

Ellie followed the sound of Joel's screaming and threats down the stairs, gently opening the door - Her heart stopping at the sight in front of her. You lay on the ground, your head and face in a pool of your own blood, a woman standing in front of you holding a golf club which Ellie assumed she had used to crack your skull open.

"Y/N?!" She cried out, not caring about the others in the room. Abby turned to look at Ellie, and then looked at her crew.

"Pin her down," She instructed them, turning back to you as you lay on the floor, able to make out the form of Ellie, even as she struggled, you weakly smiled, your shallow breathing being the only sign of your fading life.

"No! Y/N!" Ellie cried out for you. "Y/N, please get up!" She begged, over and over she begged for your life to be spared, just as your father did before Ellie's arrival. "Please, please don't do this." Ellie pleaded with Abby, hoping that the girl would have a last minute change of heart.

But Ellie's hopes were crushed as she watched Abby raise the golf club above her head, and strike it down onto your head, delivering a fatal blow to your skull.

"No!" Ellie and Joel cried out at the same time, both noticing your blood dripping from the golf club. Abby tossed the golf club aside with a huff, sparing a glance at your sobbing father and friend as they made threats to end her life. Tired of what she assumed to be empty threats, she had Owen knock the two out so the group could move out and head off away from the scene, leaving you on the floor to continue bleeding out.

Ellie rubbed her eyes as she lay the flowers down at your headstone, guilt flooding her as she sat down cross-legged in front of your grave. Since your small funeral, Ellie had gone to see you once every day, the first day was when she forgave you for lying to her - She now realised that you were still a kid then, just as she was, you just wanted your dads approval so did whatever he thought was best. She also apologised for the ordeal at the party, but guilt constantly gnawed at her, she hoped that you hadn't died thinking that she didn't love you - Ellie loved you so much, but she was just so angry that it blinded her.

Despite her daily visits, Ellie couldn't find the words to speak to you - She also couldn't face Joel, but no one had seen or heard from him in the days since your death, his grief had consumed him entirely. At least there was one thing that could comfort Joel, that you were back with your mom.

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part eleven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you get the short end of the stick, but it’s worth it.

a/n: okayyyyyyyyy shit’s getting heavy, folks, but things are chaaaaaaanging. hope you’re ready 😈

word count: 4.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, a lot of angst, a lot conversation, canon-typical violence and injuries (heavy on both), drinking, Joel has more feelings, I love Tess.

if you haven’t already, please read the announcement/follow up I posted about giving Liv a name.

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters✨

Tess likes to talk. You don’t mind; it makes the walk back much faster, and the QZ is within sight much sooner with the easy conversation between you.

She talks about how she found Joel and Tommy, how they’d been stuck together ever since Kentucky. She mentions her husband, Nate, and you offer your sympathy — which she brushes off — and tell her about Dean.

“With a baseball bat?” she repeats, an almost incredulous look on her face. “That baseball bat?”

“Yep,” you laugh, hefting the thing in your hand. “Kept me alive this long. All those years of softball finally paid off.”

Tess tells you what she was starting to build in Baltimore, and you can’t help but grin. The two of you are more similar than you thought. You return her stories in kind, details of your own ventures. “There are lots of ways in and out of the Boston QZ,” you tell her, “you just have to know where to look.”

You don’t ask about her and Joel, and she doesn’t offer the information. He hangs back the entire time, a good twenty feet behind you, rifle slung over his shoulder. You chance a glance back once or twice, mostly making sure he’s still there, and his hard gaze makes you freeze every time.

This definitely isn’t the reunion you’d imagined. Honestly, you’re not quite sure what you had envisioned, but this sure as hell ain’t it. Fuck, why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?

You lead them through as quietly as possible, using a spot on the wall where the bricks have been cracked, leaving footholds behind for those who know to look for them. You send Tess up first, then Joel, and he waits at the top, grabs you by the arm and hauls you up the last foot. You open your mouth to say thank you, but he’s already released you, turned away yet again.

All right, so this is how it’s going to be.

Through the top level of the building, down the ladder into the alley. You stash your bat and your bag in the same place, tell Tess and Joel to leave their guns there, too. Joel’s reluctant, but Tess smacks his shoulder and he does as you say, that hard look on his face the entire time.

Your boots splash in the same puddle they had last night. Tess is close behind you as you head out of the alley and skirt down the next building. A few more alleyways, heads ducked, avoiding soldiers and civilians alike, and you head down another alleyway, waiting for the coast to clear before shoving a dumpster aside, revealing a hole in the bricks that leads inside the empty warehouse.

“How did you—” Joel starts to ask, but cuts himself off.

You hold your arm out, gesturing him inside. “Quickly.”

The opposite end of the warehouse faces the gate almost directly. The windows on the lower level are covered with newspaper, shattered in some places, and you peer through one of the missing panes. Beside the main gate, there’s an office, of sorts. Where they take any survivors that make it to the gate, test them, either put them in the system or put a bullet in their heads.

“Wait here.” You prop open the window, slide through the gap and pop back up the other side. No one pays you any mind as you head towards the office, leaning up on your toes to peer through the little window in the door. Nick’s standing inside, staring at one of the old computer screens, and when you tap on the glass, he nods.

You turn back, waving at Tess. “C’mon.” They’re quick about it, and you push the door open once they’re close, following them both inside. Nick stares at Joel for a moment, meets your eyes over his shoulder. You try to school your face neutral, but you can’t tell if you get away with it or not.

“In there,” Nick says, the words blunt, and points down the hallway, to one of the smaller rooms. The office used to be a doctor’s office, you think; one main lobby, a bunch of smaller exam rooms down the hall. Joel and Tess do as he says, and you start to follow behind, but feel Nick’s hand on your shoulder. It makes you pause, and you look at him, turning beneath his hand.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” he asks, his voice low. “Joel.”

You repeat yourself to him a third time. “Does it matter?”

Nick’s brow creases. “Of course it fucking matters, Liv.”

You shake your head. “Just process them, please? Then you can throw me in lockup and this’ll all be over.”

The look on his face says he doesn’t believe you, but you push his hand off your shoulder, step into the room where Tess is standing, Joel sitting in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. “This is Corporal Nick Cowan,” you introduce, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “I trust him. He’ll test you both, put you through the system, and take you back to my place.” Your eyes flick to Joel. “Tommy should still be there.” You turn to look at Nick. “On the off chance he’s not, take them to Deanna’s.”

Nick gives you a curt nod, and you can feel Joel’s stare boring holes in your skull. It’s Tess that finally breaks the silence, concern on her face. “What about you? Why aren’t you taking us?”

“Cuz I’m gonna be in lockup,” you say, and Joel jumps to his feet, but doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t do anything but stare, “for the next two days.” You swallow hard. “There’s enough food at my place for you three, water too. Tommy knows where the whiskey is.” You give a little chuckle, staring down at your boots before lifting your head. There’s something like admiration in Tess’s eyes, whereas Joel is pure fire. You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s fine, really. All part of the deal.”

“You’ve been in FEDRA lockup before?” Tess asks, crossing her arms.

You nod. “Once or twice. I’ve been caught by a couple other soldiers, but I have dirt on most of them. Makes it easier, but this is all part of the plan.” Your eyes dart to Joel before meeting Tess’s. “It’s fine. It’s worth it.”

Nick grabs your arm then, all business, fingers biting into your elbow. “Let’s go. Now.” His voice is louder, and you lift a brow as he pulls you back through the door. “You two, don’t move, or so help me god, I will throw you both right back through that gate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Seriously?”

He stares down at you. He’s angry, you realize. “Seriously.”

Nick yanks the door shut, Joel and Tess staring at you as it closes, and he all but pushes you down the hall to the door, out onto the road, towards the building where you’ll be for the next two days. Lockup. “There were other soldiers in there,” he mutters under his breath. “I had to make it somewhat believable.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Since the world ended, Joel will admit he’s gotten quick to judge. First impressions were hell before cordyceps ravaged the planet, but now they’re even worse, if not more important. But Joel’s met one too many terrible people, and he’s learned to be quick on the draw, quicker on his judgement.

He knows almost immediately that he does not care for Corporal Nick Cowan. At all.

Mainly, he doesn’t like the way Cowan was looking at you. He saw the way he stopped you outside the door, the two of you whispering under your breath to each other, an almost defiant look on your face. Are you two…?

He doesn’t finish the thought.

Joel’s mind has been churning from the moment he saw you, standing there in the gas station parking lot, that fucking baseball bat in your hand. Something else had taken over, something like happiness, spilling into the corners of his heart the moment he had you in his arms again. Alive, breathing, whole, right in front of him. He felt whole, for the first time in a long time, holding you like that. It felt…good.

And then you opened your mouth, and it all came crashing down.

He hasn’t forgotten. He can’t forget that night. The gunshots and the blood and the way Sarah had cried. The way he’d felt her go. It haunts his every step, her voice a constant reminder in the back of his mind. He knew he’d have to tell you, if he ever found you again, and in a way, he’s grateful his brother was the one to deliver the news, but the way you’d said it, the broken apology, the tears on your face, it was too much.

It is too much.

Cowan returns not ten minutes after he’d hauled you off, and Joel gets to his feet when the door opens. The soldier gives him a look, but Joel doesn’t flinch. He’s used to this shit; the FEDRA soldiers in Baltimore were the same. “You can sit,” Cowan says, but Joel doesn’t move. Tess sinks into the chair he’d been occupying. There’s a clipboard in the soldier’s hand, and he flips the page over. “Names.”

“Tess Servopoulos.”

“Joel Miller.”

“Date of birth.”

“April 9th, 1969.”

“September 26th, 1967.”

On and on it goes, until the page is full. Cowan doesn’t look at either of them once, and then takes the scanner from his belt. He’s not gentle with it, the hard press of plastic and the following tingle at Joel’s neck making him wince. The scanner turns green both times, and Cowan scoffs.

“Well, there you go.” The soldier sighs. “Boston QZ works about the same as Baltimore. You work for the community, keep it running, earn your ration cards. Liv will tell you where to find assignments, what jobs you’re allowed to take. She’s responsible for you for now, once she’s out. You stay in her place until she comes back, and we go from there.”

“We don’t get our own space?” Tess asks, and Cowan shoots her a look.

“You wait for Liv,” he says tersely, “and we go from there.”

Joel bites his tongue.

He leads them through the QZ quickly, both hands on his rifle. Joel itches for his own gun, stashed in your hideaway, but forces his hands into fists instead. Tess gives him a pointed look. Don’t fuck this up.

It irks his brain that Cowan just knows where your apartment is. Tommy opens the door after the soldier knocks, and pulls Joel into a hug, Tess afterward. “You made it.”

Tommy steps aside to let them in, and when Joel turns back to the door, the Corporal is gone.

Good fuckin’ riddance.

“Much nicer than the shit we had in Baltimore,” Tess comments, shucking her coat off, and Joel huffs a laugh.

It’s…well, nice isn’t really the word. The flower wallpaper is something else but the place looks lived in, which already makes it better than the plain walls and nondescript shit they had in the Baltimore QZ. There’s a butterfly painted on the window, a bookshelf built into one wall, another little shelf between the two windows with a radio perched on top. The flower paper doesn’t continue along all the walls, giving way to a yellow colour, the lower two feet of the wall painted blue. There’s a big window near the bed, a tall wardrobe beside it, a cracked radiator, the bathroom tucked beside the bedroom.

Tommy makes lunch, some kind of instant mac and cheese that tastes all too familiar to Joel. But washing it down with a glass of whiskey definitely helps. Tess busies herself looking through your bookshelves, combing through the titles.

“Where did she get all this stuff?” Joel asks. The shelves are filled with books, but there are other things too, little knickknacks and candles and tchotchkes. A little elephant made of jade. Joel picks it up, rubs his fingers over the carved edge.

“If you’d been listening, on the walk back,” Tess quips, an almost sing-song to her voice, “instead of being an asshole, you’d know. She’s been doing the same shit we have. Smuggling. Looting places that have been deserted. And she’s clearly better at it than we are.”

Joel says nothing, his brow lowering as he puts the elephant back on the shelf. There’s a little glass dish on one of the other shelves, filled with rings of all sizes and metals. Wedding rings, he realizes after a moment, engagement rings.

Tess hums. Joel watches as she reaches down, rubs her thumb over the silver band on her finger.

“Who is she, Joel?” Tess asks, and a zap of cold slides down his throat. “To you. Who was she? And don’t try to bullshit me and say nothing.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, instead of nothing, and walks away from the bookshelf. There are no doors between the different rooms, the living room and kitchen and bedroom one open space with a dividing wall. He walks towards your bed, lets his hand trail over the plaid sheets and blankets and sinks onto the edge, parks himself in front of the window.

He stays there, until the sun sets.

Two days in lockup, you’d said. You wait for Liv, Cowan had instructed.

Part of him feels like he needs to apologize. He’s going about this wrong, he knows that. But the memory of what he’s lost has risen to the surface of his mind, and made him hurt. Made him all too aware of how broken he is.

With Tess, it doesn’t matter. He cares for her — of course he cares for her — but the line in the sand is clear. It’s stress-relief, comfort, a placeholder for what they’ve lost. Tess lost Nate, and Joel lost you.

And what the fuck did he do to deserve to find you again?

Tess crawls into bed, eventually. She doesn’t say a word to Joel, doesn’t invite him to lay with her. He can hear Tommy snoring on the other side of the thin wall that separates the living room and the bedroom, his brother sprawled on the couch.

He gets to his feet, scrubbing a hand over his face. The wardrobe door creaks as he pulls it open. There’s not much inside, clothing meant more for warmth than anything else, an assortment of sweaters and flannels. He knows he shouldn’t, feels a prickle of guilt up his spine as he drags his hand through the fabric. His fingers catch on something softer than the others, and he pinches blue flannel, striped with white and grey.

You kept his shirt. All this time. Held it close enough to take it with you when you left.

It makes him ache.

Joel wanders into the kitchen, grabs the bottle of whiskey from where it had been left on the worn kitchen table. It’s a mess of coffee cups, pages torn from notebooks, a collage of maps spread beneath everything else. He sees paths marked in red, on the maps, places circled and x’ed out, scribbled notes and times and dates. The kitchen sink is clean, a few plates stacked beside, evidence of Tommy’s cooking still on the stove. The fridge is slightly crooked, from when Tommy had pulled out the whiskey.

He sees it, from the corner of his eye, on the top door of the fridge. Held in place by a magnet shaped like a strawberry.

July 4th 2002

The magnet falls as he pulls the polaroid off, but he catches it before it can hit the ground. The picture is torn at one corner, the edges a little warped, but otherwise intact. He can remember that night. The warm summer air, your head on his shoulder, beer and barbecue in his belly, the awe on Sarah’s face as you all watched the fireworks together. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Joel puts the magnet back on the fridge, but keeps the picture in his hand, sinks into a chair at the table, takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey.

He doesn’t hear Tess until she’s sliding into the chair across from him. He says nothing, another long sip from the bottle as she pulls the polaroid from his grip. She looks at it for a long moment, smoothing her fingers over the edges before handing it back to him.

“Tell me who she is, Joel,” she says again, more of a statement than a question. “Please.”

Joel’s throat bobs. Tess doesn’t often say please.

He blows out a shaky breath. “A ghost,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “To be honest, I’m still not totally convinced she’s really here. That we’re really here.”

Tess grips his free hand, pushes the bottle away. “We are here, Joel. Liv is here.” She squeezes his fingers. “Please, I just wanna make sense of it all.” Tess pauses, leans back a little. “Did you love her?”

Joel just nods, the movement slow as molasses, making his neck ache. “Her parents owned a hardware store, back in Austin. She moved back from Michigan after she finished school, started working in the store, and I met her there. We had one summer, and then she got a job in Boston.”

“You let her go.”

His brow crinkles, and his fingers itch to reach for the bottle, but he doesn’t. “I couldn’t let her stay in Austin just for me, couldn’t let her throw away her future.” He shoves a hand through his hair. He’s still holding the picture. “We spent the rest of the summer together, and then she left. Came back the next summer, and we had another two weeks.” He rubs his thumb over the photograph, the image of you leaned against him. “But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.”

“She broke it off?”

He lays the polaroid on the table, thumb still tracing your outline. “She met someone. Dean. The space was too much, for both of us. I understood. I let her go.”

“And then the world ended.”

Joel reaches for the bottle then, and takes a long swig before sliding it across to Tess. “And then the world ended.”

“So, she’s the reason you wanted to go to Boston.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Tess. “I called her that night, when everything happened. Told her to get out of Boston, that I’d find her. It was never about Boston, exactly, it was just about going East, praying that we might meet in the middle. I looked for her at every QZ, every shelter, every single time I saw a body in the street, I was looking for her.”

“But you found her,” Tess says, her voice low, and Joel forces his eyes to hers. “Joel, she’s alive. She’s right here. Second chances like this…” She trails off, shakes her head. “This kind of stuff doesn’t happen all the time, Miller, not anymore. This is…”

“If you call this a miracle, Tess, I swear to god.”

She scoffs a laugh. “No, not a miracle. But…something. You can’t—”

“I told you who she was,” he cuts her off, that same feeling rising in his throat again. What the fuck did he do to deserve a second chance with you? “Now drop it.”

“Joel—”

“Drop it, Tess.” He shoves his chair back, gets up, heads for the bed.

If she notices him take the polaroid with him, she doesn’t say anything.

Stairs are hell.

Every step makes your side scream in pain. The pressure you’ve been holding against your ribs has done little to ease the ache, and even breathing makes it worse. Your mouth tastes like blood, iron and tangy against your teeth, and you know you’re lucky as hell your cheek isn’t broken. Bruised to shit, yes, but not broken.

They were feeling feisty in lockup, worse than you’ve ever had it before. Nick left you with two other soldiers inside, muttering something about disturbing the peace. They processed you, put the charge on your record, and when another soldier came to get you, your stomach sank into your toes.

Angie.

The same soldier who’d been working the pharmacy when you’d gone to get inhalers for Henry. You hadn’t threatened her, not exactly, but you’d made it clear that you could do some damage if she didn’t give you what you wanted. The pharmacy is a no-violence zone; she couldn’t have hit you then even if she wanted to. It would get her in deeper shit than you.

But in lockup? A whole other fucking story.

She grabbed you roughly, all but shoving you through the doorway that led deeper into the building. You don’t think the building was originally like this, all cells and interrogation rooms; FEDRA must have built it themselves.

You were expecting to get shoved into a cell right off the bat, but instead, she lead you to one of the rooms, pushed you inside and yanked the door shut behind you.

“What are you—”

Your words cut off with the first slap, a hard backhand that made your head snap to the side. You grunted, grabbing the back of a chair inside the room. You had half a mind to grab the thing with both hands and launch it at Angie, but that would only extend your time in lockup.

All you could do was sit there and take it.

Her second backhand made your teeth rattle, pain sparking behind your eyes. You nearly ducked to dodge the next hit, out of instinct, but forced yourself still, tears springing forth as her fist connected with your cheek. Over and over again, you just let her hit you. She hit you hard enough that you stumbled back, tripped over your own feet and the chair behind you and hit the ground. She didn’t waste any time driving her boot into your side, and you just curled inwards, just took it.

You weren’t sure exactly when she left, all you knew was that the blows stopped landing, but the pain didn’t. Two more soldiers came in after, picked you up off the floor, and carried you out of the room. They put you in a cell next, gave you a bottle of water and a blanket. The fabric was mottled with blood when you finally opened your eyes, and your face ached something fierce.

You slept it off, the rest of your time inside. Ate the shitty bread when it was offered, used the water to clean the blood from your face. And then, your forty-eight hours were up, and they let you go.

Part of you expected Nick to be waiting for you outside, but you were happy he wasn’t. You didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything more.

It took ages to get back to your building. Every step outside made pain shoot through your side; you’re pretty convinced at least one of your ribs is broken. And now, fucking stairs.

You almost fall against the doorjamb once you reach your apartment, digging in the pocket of your coat for your keys. You’re fumbling with the lock when the door swings inward, revealing Tess, bright-eyed and wearing one of your t-shirts. “Jesus Christ.”

You actually fall forward then, and Tess catches you, sliding an arm around your waist and dragging you over the threshold.

“A little help here!”

Tommy and Joel are both sitting on your couch, and they both jump to their feet the moment they see you. Tommy moves before his brother, and is at your side in an instant, taking some of your weight from Tess. You’re grateful as hell, though the movement makes your side scream in pain. They bring you towards the couch, and from the corner of your swollen eye, you see Joel move out of the way, heading in the direction of your bedroom. You’re in too much pain for it to really sting.

You cry out as they lower you onto the couch. Tommy looks frantic, and Tess disappears for a moment, coming back with a wet cloth. She drags it over your cheek and you whimper.

“She’s messed up,” she says, you assume to Tommy. “They have a clinic here, right? Like in Baltimore.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “saw it when I first got here. I can go—”

You flail an arm out, your hand landing on Tommy’s leg. “Get Deanna.”

You think he nods — you hope he nods — and you hear the door bang shut a moment later. Tess wipes at your face more; guess you didn’t get as much blood off as you thought.

“Tess,” you call softly, and her eyes snap to yours. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut up,” she tells you, her voice almost stern. You want to laugh. “Who did this to you? FEDRA? Cowan?”

“Not Cowan. Pissed off the wrong girl, I guess.” You actually scoff out a laugh, but it makes your ribs sing with pain. “Can’t fight back in lockup.”

Tess’s brow wrinkles. “Good to know it’s the same shit all over in some way, at least.”

You go quiet, for a long moment. Tess holds the cloth against your cheek, and you revel in the cool feeling, letting your eyes flutter shut. The pain throbs with every beat of your heart, every breath you take, but her hands are gentle, almost soft.

“Joel told me,” she says, breaking the silence that’s been filled only with your shaking breaths. “About the two of you, about…before.”

Tears fill behind your closed eyelids, and you feel them slip down your cheeks. “Doesn’t matter now,” you say, trying to shake your head but failing miserably. “He doesn’t…”

“Don’t worry about what he does or doesn’t. He’s a stubborn ass.”

“You two—”

She puts a finger on your lips, shushing you. “I said, don’t worry about it, Liv.” She shakes her head, brow pinched, moving the cloth to dab at the corner of your mouth. “Not right now.”

You hear the door open, and a moment later, Deanna’s face comes into view, hovering over you. “What the hell did you do, girl?”

“Made a deal,” you say, “but it was worth it.”

Through the thin wall, you think you hear Joel sigh, the noise long and deep.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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loadedberetta · 1 year

Text

Faded Red !gameTess x GN Reader

rating: M/18+

summary: Domestic Tess with a hint of angsty tension. The morning of when the first game begins, before Tess shows up at Joel's.

warnings: canon-typical violence mentioned; established relationship; partial nudity; sprinklings of angst; allusions to sex; small spoilers for the beginning of the first game

word count: ~960

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Let me reiterate, interact only if you're over 18. Proceed beyond this point with caution. Every work of mine has a general warning.

a/n: trying my wings. for My Woman™ Tess Servopoulos; lmk if I missed anything about GN reader

You startled awake as the door of your room opened with a deft click.

Tess' head poked in, soon followed by her nimble body in a light step. Not noticing her absence in bed sooner, you remorsefully looked up at her.

- Mornin-- - you choked on your words as you caught sight of her clothes (which were fresh for once); they were crumpled, and more importantly, splattered with blood. A nasty gash lay angry on her cheek, another above her brow.

- Christ, what happened to you? - you quickly jumped out of bed, hair tousled and vertigo slightly letting you down from the sudden rush of blood in your still half-asleep body.

- Don't worry, blood's not mine. Mostly - she shrugged like she didn't care. She walked over to the only drawer in the room and pulled out another shirt from it. It was your favorite, you always loved to see that tight red button-up on her. But you couldn't focus on it with her all messed up.

You wanted to ask whose blood it was then, but at the same time, you've grown to learn not to ask Tess questions like that.

- Okay… - you muttered instead, letting yourself sink back onto the bed. You didn't even try to help her with the injury, you knew how it would have ended with her getting butthurt about it.

- Fuckin' assholes - you heard Tess mutter.

- What, who? - you clung to her angry rambling to pull some information out of her.

- Robert - she spat as she practically tore her shirt off herself and threw it on the floor in one motion. - He knows we're after him, so he wanted to get me first.

You couldn't resist it anymore, so you got up from the bed and walked over to the half-naked Tess fuming at the other end of the room.

- But you're here - you tried to calm her, as usual. She didn't flinch away this time when you extended a hand toward her.

- There were two of them, and I was alone - she muttered softly as you took her jaw in your hand. She leaned into your touch and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment longer than a blink.

- You did what needed to be done, honey. I'm proud of you - you cooed into her neck as you planted a sweet kiss onto her bruised skin. It tasted of iron and smelled like the herbal-infused soap on the bathroom shelf.

- I'm going to Joel's - she murmured after the moment lingered between the two of you and the hint of lemongrass faded.

- Why? I thought you were-- - Joel and Tess had a nasty fight a few days before about some deal that FEDRA messed up for them, and they haven't talked since. You frowned at the mention of his name. You knew they were close, but you couldn't ever grow to trust him fully.

- I know, he wanted to be left alone. But he was supposed to come today, and he, well… didn't - she exalted with a hint of bitterness in her voice. She rested her hands on your hips as you adjusted the tousled bandana on her head.

- One day, I'm going to kill that man - you said as you turned to survey Tess' wounds.

- I would gladly do it myself, but he's just too damn good at what he's doin', sweetheart - she quipped back, her tone slightly more free. You smiled at her and planted a chaste kiss on her lips that earned you a small squeeze on the ass.

- I'll get the shirt clean, don't worry about it, okay? - you whispered to her as you swiped away a weeping drop of blood getting ready to flow down her face.

- And I'll get things sorted out with Joel. I-- - she stalled and pulled you a little closer, her bra brushing against your chest. - I have some info on Robert and this might be our best shot yet…

- You're going after him, aren't you? - you finished her sentence, sad bitterness threatening to spill from your lips.

- I'm sorry - she breathed almost regretfully. - We really have to. Now that he's made off with our stuff, he's become too much of a threat, and…

- I know baby, I know - you soothed Tess by brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. - You're going to make up with Joel and go fuck up Robert for me, alright?

She swayed your hips in her hands, making you feel like you were dancing for a moment.

- That's the plan - she smirked. - I'll be back in a few… days tops, okay?

- You pay attention to that sweet butt of yours so I can enjoy it when you get back, yes? - you pushed your nose against hers and the two of you shared a small laugh.

You stayed like that, still and quiet for a moment.

- But really, please be careful? - you nudged her head upwards with your nose and looked her in the eye, lovely dark spheres staring back at you full of emotion and care.

- I'll be fast, I promise - she looked back at you with determination, and let her hand fall from your hips.

She picked up her shirt from where she threw it on the bed and buttoned it up quickly.

- Oh, one more thing - she turned back from the door and dug a hand into her back pocket. - Ration cards. I got a sweet deal on the run this morning, so we have some extra. Save some for me?

She handed over a few cards from the small pile she fiddled with in her hands.

- You know I will.

Later, you watched her from the window, the faded red shirt and her confidence being the only layers on her shielding you and her from the outside world.

DO NOT translate/repost/steal. Likes/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated tho.

hope you enjoyed.

smooches. toodles. whatever they usually say here.

#baby's first fic #tess x reader #tlou tess #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tlou smut #tlou x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou1 #tlou fluff #tlou game #the last of us game

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silentsockfeet · 1 year

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tlou hbo s1 ep1 thoughts (spoilers obviously)

really love that we spend half the ep following sarah through her day in the life, it’s the film equivalent of her being the first playable character in the game. we as the audience spend so much time with her and if you’re not familiar with the story i imagine you’d assume the rest of the show is meant to be around her, only for that to crumble later

the curtis and viper dvd 😭😭

i like how much they show off tommy and joel’s dynamic, specifically in the car scene. tommy mostly acts with emotion and impulse and relies a lot on joel to make the decisions, while joel is the one thinking rationally even when stakes are high: planning them a route to the highway, trying to guide them through the crowds, etc.

an obvious thing to point out but the accuracy of the sets is astounding!! sarah’s room, the austin roadsign (this one specifically broke my brain), the boston QZ, it’s all so goddamn good

LOVE the change to having joel gathering supplies to go and find tommy, it says so much about his character but also their relationship. joel at his core is still a deeply loving and protective person even after twenty years in an apocalypse has forced him to build a harder exterior. but he’s also still stuck in the past, still seeing tommy as the sort of immature younger brother he has to keep watch over

gaslight gatekeep girlboss tess everyone say thanks anna torv

i LOVE that they gave us a glimpse into how the fireflies dealt with ellie before confirming she was immune, i always wondered how the fireflies would’ve reacted to her showing up claiming immunity. the level of paranoia from the fireflies and the responding sass from ellie was exactly how i’d imagined it to go haha

also just really like the world building of how a military-occupied QZ works, with the job system and the radio post with people lining up to send messages to loved ones

obviously happy that gustavo is working on the show but there were so many times a score from the game would play in the show and there’d be this weird disconnect in my brain where i’m like ‘wait that’s not where the music is supposed to play’ LOL

joel little spoon confirmed

so so obsessed with the expansion of tess and joel’s relationship, the way tess is able to calm joel down and get him to think clearly, the way she is clearly so supportive of him going to find tommy. they were able to say so much with so little about who she is as a person and to joel

in game ellie had already met marlene once before she was infected so it made sense that she would go to her for help after, but in the show she’d never met marlene before, makes me wonder why ellie went to her/the fireflies or if that had even been what elllie had intended. maybe she just got tangled up with them and had to make do? or it could be possible that [redacted] survived long enough to escort her to an outpost and explain the situation

joel info dumping about construction in the middle of a manhunt i love this man

“kim you don’t have a fuckin ear on your fuckin head” PLEASE that line was so funny. absolutely uncalled for

bella is so goddamn good as ellie. the mannerisms the sass everything is just so spot on. there were moments when she even sounded just like game ellie it was astounding

ellie’s interest with joel’s violence is so intriguing, i feel like that’s actually a fairly sizable difference from the game. in the equivalent game scene ellie was kinda shocked that tess and joel killed the soldiers, whereas in the show she was fascinated by it.

and also depressing lol, it’s something that she’s surrounded by but has never really had to do before so i think she views violence in an aggrandizing way, kind of like the heroes in her comics. it’s really depressing to know that one day she’s going to get to the point where she realizes just how taxing violence truly is

in hindsight i should’ve known they were gonna end this ep on the reveal of ellie’s immunity, it’s such a genius cliffhanger for people new to the story

#i think i'm gonna do this every week #entirely only for my benefit bc i want to be able to look back on these and see what my initial reactions were #although this technically was not my initial reaction i just rewatched it lol #im already kinda mourning my excessive tlou knowledge bc it would be so cool to get to watch this show completely unaware of what happens #like all the little film tricks they use to get the audience in the same mindset as the player are so cool to think about #tlou hbo #my posts #tlou spoilers #tlou hbo notes #tlou 1x01

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melforbes · 3 years

Note

ask meme. what if. patching up. no I still haven’t seen source material

the way i completely forgot about this ask until i wrote like two paragraphs in this and was like oh shit lmao

the source material is getting an hbo series bb you're in luck also ignore anna whatever as tess yes i respect her as an actress yes she is talented in a bunch of things i have not seen but ms annie wersching is the only tess in my heart and also if i have to endure tess being reduced to a powerbitch stereotype i will start foaming at the mouth. but also i have no feelings about this whatsoever <3

WHAT IF: i will pick an important choice or event in my current project and write three sentences (or more?) about if it’d gone done differently

hmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMm

this is hard because i kind of had a stupid amount of confidence in the decisions i had them make in this and because i have ~a lot of experience~ in flying by the seat of my pants with writing lmaooooo a lot of the time with this ive had some degree of foresight when it comes to certain plot decisions. the only reason i have this in the first place is that with other things ive had kind of sort of plot revelations and then been like "well if i'd set that up three chapters ago it would have a huge impact i think but instead i guess it's just going in this one for a smaller impact" so i think i learned my lesson haha. also because this pairing nowadays has a small and sparse tag i really intentionally put in stuff to make it interesting (maybe the wrong word) to reread. like not Interesting interesting but i wanted there to be certain details that are more relevant on a reread than on an initial read because whenever i read stuff in small tags i tend to read it Multiple Times lmaoooooo and it's like if anyone like me is out there I Will Feed You. I Will Give You Food. you see i have this problem in which im like i dont want to act like i put thought into this because That's Embarrassing and i also dont want to seem like i take this too seriously because That's Embarrassing and also i dont want to act uppity or pompous or something But At The Same Time i do put a lot of thought into certain things and i feel like mentioning that and i dont really want to judge myself for that. it's complicated but also super uncomplicated. where was i going with this

OH right. so most of the plot decisions were made super concretely. like pre breakup arc in the nightmares chapters (which came out so much worse than i intended alkdjksjad;glksjg) when tess and joel talk about ellie Knowing (also legit it is such a trip to me that you dont know the context of that. a trip in a good way) she says we every time and he only ever says i even when she points out that this would affect both of them, and at one point i think he says that tess doesnt understand baseless violence which is 100% untrue, and then there's a bunch of window imagery i put in starting there because im a freak. so like For Once In My Life a lot of this was as planned as it could be. on occasion there's been Plot Revelations that get wedged in (the radio interlude chapter, which was a bit of an inelegant seam between prewritten things that didnt mesh well) but for the most part ive got tits out into every decision. like tess and ellie disagreeing about joel's choice was very planned though i imagine that kind of conversation could be executed many different ways i had my one way and stuck to it. so either way

where was i going with this. did i have a point.

OKAY. let's see. i think one of the big ~emotional beats~ so to speak was the ambush chapter and i think that's the favorite because that's usually where people comment if i remember correctly and initially i wasnt going to go with that tone At All haha. years ago i wrote everyday domestic scenes of mulder and scully from x files and had it all on this blog and it was plotless but largely in the same overarching universe (i say as if it was legit ever That Deep) and after writing this as a oneshot and being like you know? Kind of feel like doing that again. i figured i would just follow the same largely plotless path of legit just domesticity and leave it at that. and i think the first like five chapters are tonally different from the rest because i'd never really intended for it to have plot or really any depth whatsoever. in the end like. How do i say this in a way that wont be interpreted as uppity or something asldkjgalsdgjk like. when i did those mulder scully scenes i was very much a beginner and i think i didnt realize just how inherent that beginner-ness was to the concept itself. which isnt a bad thing! like people had fun with those so far as i remember. bizarrely enough i think people might still read those which. cringe. but you kno!!! but with a few years of distance from that kind of concept i think it was hard for me to Not try something else. especially with this universe in which it's just dense with storytelling opportunity. and also i felt as if the first few chapters were just like super super lighthearted and i wanted some angst factor. which is why in the end the angst factor plot itself is flimsy as fuck. like i did not care WHY they got attacked i just wanted that sweet sweet hurt/comfort cup of tea u feel. and after that i didnt really go for the plot too much But i did edge toward it a lot more. like i mean ultimately this is a romance like it was not intended to be plot heavy ever But it's more plot heavy than it couldve been. had i actually written it as i'd intended from the start i think it wouldve gotten old really fast. like nothing but lighthearted domesticity doesnt make sense in this context. for the first few chapters it doesnt necessarily kill the whole thing imo because like. that's the first few chapters. but after then if there was never any ~deeper thoughts~ i think it wouldve gotten reductive super fast.

hmmm what else. Because i am deciding to talk too much on the internet now.

oh in theory the whole breakup arc couldve been omitted and now in retrospect im like it's hilarious that like the next chapter after they got married i immediately peppered in hints that they would break up lkajsdglaksjgdlkj like wow. That lasted a long time. but like i mean i think with them it fits that they would do something like get married before they even said that they loved each other. like i can see them doing a massive workaround instead of doing a small and simple but vulnerable thing. makes sense 2 me. and like they definitely couldve stuck together in the end but 1 theres interesting storytelling in how maybe joel was too stubborn or maybe they grew apart in certain ways or blah blah blah and 2 I JUST LOVE A GOOD BREAKUP AND THEN RETURNING TO EACH OTHER ARC OKAAAAAAAAAY. legit. favorite trope. if i ever experienced that in real life i would claw my eyes out but in fiction it makes me FERALLLL. and also like i mean i lov these two for their dumb quirks but also like it would be a lil wrong to say there wouldnt be consequences for like. Not communicating haha. also again like the world this game is put in is so full of storytelling opportunities and im like Must Take Them All. like joel is stubborn as hell and shuts down when he's overwhelmed and there is growth in the first game (and in the second too but thats not really shown as much and is more left for the player to fill in the gaps i think) but also i think it would be super easy to regress in that sense and i had fun with putting him in those situations. and it's also super fun to have an additional person for the joel and ellie plots to bounce off of. like joel and ellie are two very stubborn people and having an extra person there to be like You Blithering Idiots has been a good time. im getting sidetracked. like it was fun to answer the question of how these two in a marriage neither of them can fully substantiate would communicate in hard times and the answer i personally found was that they both would end up breaking things. which was fun to write!!!!!!!!! but in theory couldve been prevented. maybe i just cant imagine this a different way haha. like Joel And Tess Learn Healthy Communication Skills Over Time. am i mean for saying that doesnt sound probable aldskjgalskdjgslkgj

OH LMAO THE MARRIAGE PART. that was also a big decision i guess. i wouldnt make it go differently alksdjglasdjg like. i definitely couldve written the context around that many different ways bc again this whole is full of opportunity But a frankly premature wedding just feels right to me. especially with like going from being stuck on survival to being safe for the first time in decades. and then having that sense of safety get boring and wondering why there was that super fast wedding in the first place. cant really imagine it going differently

there is later unposted stuff that could def have gone many different ways and that i tried to make go different ways but that would not be right to talk about akldsjaslkgdjsg so.

this got too long sorry <3

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galadrieljones · 4 years

Text

As You Were (Chapter 4)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in, what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret. While there, they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, and who have recently endured a terrible tragedy on their family farm. Amidst their joint desire to find hope for the future, the two groups decide set out west together, changing the course of the story (as we know it), and the very course of their lives.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second game. Joel lives.

Chapter 4: The Trench (Pt. 1 and 2)

“I’m scared of ending up alone.”

She walked along the river, and she found him sitting on the grassy bank, with his feet in. He still had his boots on. “Don’t,” she said, crouching beside him. “You need to take off your boots first.”

“No you don’t,” he said. He smiled. “Come try it out.”

She sat down, but she didn’t put her feet in the water. The river bank was wet anyway. It was getting her jeans damp. She didn’t feel like taking off her boots. “I thought the whole point was to be free,” she said.

“You can be free any way you like,” he said. “That’s the definition of freedom.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said.

The big blue sky cast out above them as opals. There were no clouds. No anxious metal sounds. There were no fears.

“I know you’re pregnant,” he said. He was staring at his boots in the water. “I saw the test.”

She looked down at her hands. Everybody was always doing that. “You saw it?”

“I didn’t mean to. You left it in the trash. Where did you even find one?”

“Amy,” she said. “She had some, from the Wal-mart. I had to pay her with two chickens.”

“Pretty good deal, considering.”

“Are you mad?” she said.

He looked at her with his brown eyes. Sometimes they could be hard as bolts. Today, they were soft. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because we didn’t mean it,” she said. “My dad is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t,” said Will. He took her hand and pressed his thumb against her knuckles. “Nobody is gonna die.”

Mom. Don’t go back.

“Cici?”

She opened her eyes. When she looked around, she realized it was morning, well past the break of dawn. She had fallen asleep on the couch. She was looking at Joel now. He was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a new tee-shirt but the same jeans. He had a rifle on his back, and a shotgun. He was looking confused. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. Hi.”

“You sleep down here last night?”

“Yeah,” she said. She put her feet on the ground, her face in her palms. “I was just reading, pretty late. I guess I must have been so tired. I slept through the night.”

“Well that ain’t so bad,” said Joel. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I was just, uh. I was gonna head out, with Noah. He’s gonna show me the work that needs doing on the perimeter. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You said you’re going with Noah now?”

“Yes, ma’am. He says it shouldn’t take past lunch.”

“I’ll have something ready,” she said. Then, she looked around. “Is Ellie still asleep?”

“No,” said Joel. “She’s out, feeding the chickens and gathering eggs.”

“Oh. Okay, well, good.”

“I think she likes it here,” said Joel, glancing out the window. “She ain’t never spent time outdoors like this before. It’s good for her.”

“I’m glad,” said Cici. She was still sort of out of it. She got up and started walking to the kitchen. “Did Noah make any coffee this morning?”

Joel kind of paused. He seemed taken off-guard but he hid it well. “Noah didn’t mention any coffee,” he said.

“He probably just forgot,” she said, putting a kettle on the stove. “We scavenged a couple big bags from the roastery in town, a couple months ago. I mean, it ain’t fresh, but it does the trick. I can make you some, if you like. It’ll just be a minute.”

Joel walked over to the table. He leaned against one of the chairs. “Uh, sure,” he said. “Sure, that’d be fine.”

“You look dumbfounded,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said Joel. “Everything’s, uh, just fine. I just—I ain’t had coffee in a while.”

“How long?”

He glanced down at his watch, which she had noticed early on. It was broken, but she figured there was a good reason he must have kept wearing it, or else it could have just been habit. Grown men were like that, she knew. They just got to doing things for so long sometimes, they forgot why or how. They just kept doing it till they died. “Years,” he said.

“Well, you’re in luck then,” she said. “Would Ellie want some, or is she too young?”

“I don’t think she’d like the stuff,” said Joel.

“Noah doesn’t either,” she said.

Ellie came inside a moment later then, as Cici was boiling the water. She was holding a whole basket full of eggs and looking very pleased with herself. Noah followed behind her with his familiar shotgun set on his shoulder.

“Look at all these eggs,” said Ellie, holding up the basket. “Joel, do you see this?”

"I do.”

“Very good haul,” said Cici. The kettle was whistling. She started pouring the water over the grounds, through a cone, into a mug for Joel. “I’m just making Joel a quick cup of coffee, before you boys head down to the perimeter.”

“You guys got coffee?” said Ellie, sitting down at the table. “Holy shit, Joel. You must be freaking out.”

Joel then gave her a little bit of a side-eye. “I am not freaking out. Though I will admit, it’s a treat.”

Ellie started counting the eggs, one by one. "Anyway," she said. "What do you guys think you’ll see when you go down there? Is it pretty gnarly?"

“Hopefully we'll see nothing,” said Noah. He picked up an apple, from a blue porcelain bowl on the counter. “Hopefully we’ll just finish the trench, reset the mines, and be done.” He took a bite.

"Good," said Ellie.

“I’m just happy to see the two of you out of danger,” said Joel, sitting back in his chair. “Whatever I can do. This place deserves a second chance.”

Cici just focused on the coffee. She wanted it to be good.

When they got outside, Noah took Joel out to the crow’s nest where he wanted to pick up a small canister of gasoline and a lighter and some other stuff, including the replacement mines, and a true blue improved explosive. That one, said Noah, was more or less just some parts his mom had made for a fancy pipe bomb, plus a proximity sensor. He had them up there stored in a backpack. When they got up to the top of the ladder, Joel notice the Pearl Jam poster and did a double-take. In some ways, being on that farm in the middle of nowhere, it felt like he had stepped through some sort of time warp.

“My dad liked them,” said Noah, reading his mind, pocketing a book of matches and loading his 9mm, which he then holstered in the waist of his jeans. “That was his.”

“That’s a blast from the past,” said Joel.

“What year were you born?” said Noah.

The question was surprising, and direct. Both Noah and Cici had these unfiltered ways about them in which they could sit in complete silence for multiple moments at a time, but then, out of nowhere, abruptly come to the truth, simply asking and saying the things they meant with very little pretense or warning. “Uh, 1984,” said Joel.

“Dang,” said Noah. “You’re as old as my Uncle Nick.”

“Who's Uncle Nick."

“My mom’s step-brother," said Noah. "He was old enough that he was in Iraq.”

“What year?”

“2004, I think, was the start of his first tour."

Joel took a deep breath. He had his hands on his hips as he was nodding his head to the memory. “Yeah, I knew a lot of guys that enlisted,” he said, “after 9/11, in 2003. At the time, it seemed like there was something to fight for. It wasn’t that uncommon where I grew up.”

“Did you enlist?” said Noah.

“No,” said Joel, glancing back to the poster. It was a silkscreen, from a concert in Madison, probably back in like 1996.

“Why not?”

“I thought about it, but I had—well, I had other responsibilities at the time.”

Noah just stared at him, unclear.

“Let’s get a move on,” said Joel.

It took them about twenty minutes to get all the way to the section of the perimeter that needed maintenance. Noah said this was an especially vulnerable spot, as it pushed right up against the woods, with a wide frontage to the Kickapoo River just a few miles away on the other side. To get there, they had to follow the creek, which was overgrown in some parts with a great deal of bramble. At some point, they emerged and then had to walk through about five acres of arable land that had gone to seed. There was also a fairly overgrown apple orchard, and a field of actual, farmed corn, plus a stable, in the distance. Most of the trek was downhill, but the sun was hot that day. They were cooking.

Noah didn’t talk much. Joel was getting a little apprehensive about what, exactly, it was they were going to run into out there. He knew they were going to finish digging a trench, and he knew they would have to navigate their way through a live minefield, using the map that Noah had stuffed in his back pocket. He trusted the kid, and he trusted Cici, but he still had no idea what the hell he was doing. Part of him was worried about getting a leg blown off. The other part was amped up, just in case they were set to run into a horde. There were a lot of trees out there, and he didn’t really understand how it was they had kept this place fully booby-trapped in such an organized fashion for so long all by themselves. But then he thought about Bill, back in Massachusetts and suddenly, based on his most recent memories of a life lived with Tess, in which the two of them survived mainly by navigating the loopholes of a fully-fledged but decaying QZ, he began to realize that perhaps the kind of hard work he was used to, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that difficult at all.

“You know, I asked your mom yesterday,” said Joel as they scaled down a shallow ridge overgrown with prickly shrubs, “about whether y’all had some idea of what’s been causing the increase in activity out here, with Infected.”

“What did she tell you?” said Noah.

“She told me to talk to you.”

When they got to the bottom of the ridge, they walked a little further out, through a meadow with a dry well. Up ahead, finally, they saw it—the minefield. It was on the other side of an electric fence, about ten feel high. The fence had barbed wire spooled along the top, but it didn’t seem to be properly electric anymore, as there was a huge hole cut in the links, which they took turns squeezing through.

“You know how I told you, the water, coming in from the Kickapoo, the Bad Axe, some other major tributaries off the Mississippi, it’s ain’t safe?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” said Joel.

“Well, one day,” said Noah—he had a machete, which he was now using to hack through some of bramble on the other side of the fence, “about a year and a half ago, we heard a distress call from the Amish. There used to be a whole huge family of them on the other side of them woods, over north. They didn’t use the radio, but they had a hand-powered siren, which they would use to signal any threats in the area.”

“These the Amish that got the scrapyard?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “They were called the Lapps, before. Anyway, when the siren went off, my dad and my uncle went over there, and some of the other guys in the area that we knew. They thought they were gonna find maybe some reavers, or a small horde, wandering in from the town. But when they got there, it was like, the whole entire family was turning. Every single one of them, like dozens of people, infected, at the same time. It was insane, my dad said. It was starting to rain, so my dad and my uncle, they just herded them all into the barn and locked them in, and then they came home. They said it was bizarre. If one person gets infected and starts turning other people, why did the distress call come in so late? Why weren’t there more dead? Everybody was just sick, they said. All at once, as if they'd all been infected at the same time.”

Joel was focused on his footing, stepping through the tall grasses. There were so many grasshoppers, you couldn’t count. “Did you figure out what caused it?"

“Eventually,” said Noah. “We were used to using a well, which draws on a aquifer, under the ground, for our water. But the Amish, after the Outbreak in 2013, they apparently started hauling their water in straight from the river, fished it all the time.”

“Spores in the river?”

“In all the rivers,” said Noah.

“How?”

“All the tributaries coming into the floodplain, they’re all contaminated. A couple of travelers came through not long after the outbreak at the Lapp farm. They said that every city up and down the Mississippi, and on a major tributary, everywhere is going nuts with Infected. They said that, in LaCrosse, you could see the Cordyceps, growing right off the banks. There was something going on.”

“Jesus.”

“So like a year ago,” Noah continued, “all of us—me, my mom, my dad, and my uncle, we went up to LaCrosse.” He stopped in his tracks then, took a long drink of water from a canteen in his backpack.

“What happened?” said Joel.

“We got cornered by a horde before we could make it into the city,” he said, “in a church just south of Shelby. There was a fire. My mom and me got out, barely. My dad and my uncle didn’t. By the time the two of us got back to Viroqua, the rest of the Amish in the area had either abandoned their farms, or turned. The whole town, anybody left in this part of the Driftless, they were almost all of them gone. Dead, turned, or gone.”

Joel felt heavy, blindsided. He looked at his boots in the tall grass, getting wet from the river marsh. When he looked up now, he could see it there, in its glory: the minefield. Just like a long, flat expanse of grass that spread out, stretching around the property, maybe about twenty yards deep. On the other side of the minefield was the trench, and then a whole lot of trees, growing up the side of a wooded ridge. “Everything you just told me, that’s all true?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, kid.”

“I know.”

“You said there are others in the area. The Amish who got the scrapyard. Some of them survived?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “One of the families had been on a supply run, eastward, during the outbreak. They came back, and they stayed. They still live over the hill. There are a few others, a couple families here and there. My Aunt Amy, she was married to my Uncle Nick, she left a little bit after we got back from LaCrosse, went down to the Quad Cities with her daughter. They had family down there, on Amy’s side, in Moline. We’ve tried to keep tabs on what’s going on down there, but it all went dark a while ago. I have no idea if they made it.”

“So you think the Infected, they’re coming down the river, with the spores.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know why, or how, the water became like it is? Because it ain’t like that in the northeast. Spores infecting people through the water supply is news to me.”

“We don’t know what’s causing it,” said Noah. “We know there’s something going on in LaCrosse, but we’ve never gone back.”

Joel took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, son,” he said. “I am. That’s a tough hand.”

“Thanks,” said Noah, shaking his head. “But I doubt it’s any worse than your sob story, or Ellie’s, or any of the other sob stories you must hear traveling around these days.”

“That don’t matter,” said Joel. He regarded Noah, whose cynicism was familiar to his own. “In the grand scheme of things, one loss might seem meaningless, but just because a lot of people are dying that don’t mean the people that you lose, that their lives held any less significance to you when they were still alive. You get that?”

Noah was just staring at him, as if the words he was hearing were foreign, or new. He did, however, nod stiffly, and then he looked away. Joel didn’t know if it had gotten through. He just felt for the boy.

“All the shit we need to do, it’s up there,” said Noah.

Joel squinted past the minefield toward the trench. “It looks like it’s nearly finished.”

“It is,” he said. “The Infected tripped two mines and one bomb yesterday. We’ll clean up the trench, and then we'll replace the explosives. With you here, it’ll be fast.”

“What are the odds we’re gonna run into Infected out there at that trench?” said Joel. “There’s a lot of trees.”

“I don’t know,” said Noah. He took the map out of his back pocket, unfolded it. It was hand-drawn in blue pen. “They hang out in there sometimes, because it’s cool. They get lost, and then they freak out if they hear you. Just like, stay alert. And while we’re in the minefield, follow in my footsteps exactly so that you don’t blow up. We’ll go slow.”

Joel sighed profoundly. He closed his eyes, gathered his courage, prayed to the good lord nothing would happen, knowing it was fruitless, but doing it anyway. “Alright then," he said.

By noon, they had finished the trench. The sun was high, and they were both sweating and starving, ready for some respite. Joel watched Noah assemble the pipe bomb while leaning against a shovel in the shade of a lavish white oak. Noah had about him a sense of precision that suggested he had been doing this sort of thing from a very young age.

“Where the hell did y’all learn to do all this?” said Joel. His gray tee-shirt was almost soaked through with sweat. He was dirty and he could feel the sunburn on the back of his neck.

“My Uncle Nick,” he said. “The one who was in Iraq.”

“That what he did over there?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah. “It was basically his whole job to disarm these things. He also went to some African countries after his initial tours for demining operations.”

“Goddam. That’s some brave business.”

“Still took a zombie apocalypse and a church fire to kill him,” said Noah, digging out an impression in the dirt with his bare hands. “Fucking clown world.”

“You’re telling me,” said Joel. “You almost done?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m gonna go take a leak,” said Joel, looking around. “You good?”

Noah nodded, working carefully. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” said Joel.

After showing her how to sheer a sheep that morning, Cici showed Ellie all the different, easy parts you need to make a perfectly compact pipe bomb. “You can take it with you anywhere,” she said. “You can make them fancy, but they don’t need to be fancy. This gets the job done.”

They were out in the shed, which was more or less a workspace. It was all full of guns, assembled and in pieces, hanging on the wall, and in piles. There were axes, machetes, and two grindstones. There were shelves and shelves of different sized containers and wires, all colors and lengths, lining the walls. As Cici worked, Ellie sat on the tool bench, watching, rapt, by the good light coming through the window. “Where did you learn to do all this?” she said eventually.

“From my step-brother,” said Cici. “He was an EOD specialist in the Army.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“Explosive Ordnance Disposal.”

"That’s insane,” said Ellie. “Back in Boston, we had some demolition training, but it was basically just like, how to make five different versions of a Molotov cocktail.”

“Those work pretty well, too,” said Cici.

“Later, I met this guy, Bill—he knows Joel—and he had basically trip-wired this entire little town where he lived. He showed Joel how to make nail bombs, too.”

“Nail bombs are not that much different than what we’re doing here,” said Cici. “Maybe a little cruder.”

“Seems a lot cruder.”

“So how do you like it?” said Cici. “Traveling with him? With Joel.”

“It’s okay,” said Ellie. She rested her chin on her knees. “He’s kind of...terse. Just sometimes though. He doesn’t talk much. When he does, I don't know. It’s okay. He seems a little stern, I know, but he's really not that bad.”

“He said you lost some people, back east. In Boston. And in Pittsburgh. I just—I wanted to say I’m sorry. That must have been really hard, and really scary.”

Ellie looked down at her Converse. One of them had come untied. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s not really...easy. I guess.”

“No, it isn’t.” Cici completed the pipe bomb, set it neatly on the workbench between them, like a cake. She didn’t press for details, on Boston, or Pittsburgh. “Voilà,” she said.

Ellie was oddly comforted. “That’s so freakin cool,” she said.

Back at the house, Cici got Ellie started on making a new loaf of bread. Meanwhile, she sliced up a fresh loaf from the pantry and set about making sandwiches.

“So, you go from making bombs to making sandwiches, huh?” said Ellie. She was standing at the counter kneading the dough. It was squishy, she thought. Weirdly satisfying.

“Pretty much,” said Cici. She had prepared four tall ham and cheese sandwiches, on sourdough. Simple fare. For the them, and for Joel and Noah. “Sometimes, we watch movies. Maybe we can watch one tonight.”

“This is my kind of living,” said Ellie.

They smiled at each other.

But then.

“What the fuck was that?” said Ellie.

They heard the mines going off, one by one, well into the distance. A rapid succession. Too many.

"Cici?"

“Shit."

"Was that the mines?" said Ellie. "Are they okay? What the fuck?"

In the trees, Joel zipped up and resituated himself. The thicket out there beyond the trench was quite beautiful. The nature sounds were almost deafening but in a way that suggested an earthly innocence. Joel was used to wearing a backpack, but with a home nearby, he didn’t really need one that day, so he felt light, despite the sweat and the physical exhaustion. Oddly enough, it had felt good to dig and to use his strength for something productive. Rather than killing, he was building for once. It had been a long time. He took the shotgun off his shoulder and checked the rounds. The sound it made was metal and ran in cacophony to the ongoing symphony of the trees.

He’d gone out maybe only ten yards or so, from Noah, who he could no longer hear but he could still see, through a crack in the foliage. He had made sure not to get beyond sight. Ready to head back, he put the gun strap back over his shoulder and took a step, breaking a twig beneath his boot, and the sound should have been innocuous, but instead, it seemed to trigger a familiar, inhuman noise nearby, and then that seemed to trigger another.

Joel swore under his breath, pumped the shotgun, and waited. He stood very still and listened to the cicadas clicking off in the trees in that ongoing rhythm, and out the corner of his eye he then saw something woman-shaped dart between a break in the foliage. If he truly parsed the noise of the thicket he could hear their heavy, frantic breathing. It was stalkers.

In slow silence he backed out of the thicket and made his way back to Noah at the trench. Noah was finishing up his wiring of the pipe bomb to the motion sensor and said something about how they were pretty much all set to go, whenever Joel was ready. Joel shushed him.

“Fuck,” said Noah, in a whisper. He picked up his shotgun off the earth. “What is it?”

“Stalkers,” said Joel. “I caught sight of one, but there’s more.”

"If we stay quiet, we can—”

But it was too late. They heard unsteady footsteps coming up the thicket. Raising their guns, they waited. A runner, looked to be a man, dressed in fishing gear stumbled out of the trees, bloodied up, shivering and afraid. Joel and Noah tried to stand perfectly still, but it saw them, and they were backed against the minefield, and it was no choice. Joel blew the thing’s jaw clean off. It dropped to the soil in silence, but the sound of the gun brought the stalkers out of the trees.

“Follow as close as you can,” said Noah.

“I will. Now go.”

It happened fast. As they navigated the mines, the sounds of the Infected in the woods rose up behind them in a maelstrom. There were way too many, maybe two dozen, must have been dormant in there, fucking lulled under the shade. When they got to the fence, Joel and Noah slipped back through the other side, turning around to watch a whole shitload, gnashing through the trees and descending upon the perimeter in total disorganization. Several fell into the trench, and the rest tripped the mines, plus the brand new pipe bomb, causing loud explosions that shrouded the whole field in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Joel and Noah hit the earth. It was so loud, Joel could feel the ringing in his ears vibrating in his teeth, and when, as he caught his bearings, he finally looked up, realizing it wasn’t over, Noah was dragging him to his feet, shouting something incomprehensible. Then, GET BACK. Scrambling into the tall grass, Joel watched as Noah lit up the canister of gasoline with a couple rags and chucked it as far and hard as he could past the barbed wire spools over the fence. When it landed, it blew to high heaven and in its wake, the sounds of all the Infected leftover from the mines turned to chaotic agony. There were birds dismounting from the trees in all directions, squawking. Then, a deadly quiet.

“Fucking shit,” said Noah, stumbling backward. He fell to his hands and knees, coughing from the dust.

As the ringing died down in his ears and in his molars, the afternoon seemed to crack wide open. Joel was on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. “You okay?” he said.

Noah was heaving now, out of breath, covered in the detritus from head to toe. He walked over, held out his hand, hauled Joel back to his feet. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

“I’m okay,” said Joel. He dusted himself off, still coughing and waving his way through the dust. He tripped forward to the fence and pressed into it, trying to make anything out at at all in the minefield. He could see some of the blistering bodies, smell the explosive energy, the roasting, human carnage. It was horrific. Then, he saw the trench. “Goddammit,” he said. “The whole thing is pulled up again.

Noah was keeled over, squinting out at the trees. “This place is fucked,” he said, more to himself than anything. “Lets get the fuck out of here.”

Cici took the walkie out of her back pocket. She shouted into it for a while, but nobody answered. She then rushed them out of the house.

"Where are we going?" said Ellie.

"Crow’s nest.”

Up the ladder, Ellie felt like she was just blowing in the wind, no direction. But Cici had kicked into some sort of military high gear. She was holding a sniper rifle, which Ellie did not remember seeing her grab. She then handed Ellie a loaded rifle of her own, which had been hanging on a hook by the door. It felt heavy and wooden, but Ellie understood it. Cici asked if Ellie knew what to do.

“Yeah,” said Ellie, shaken. “Joel showed me. In Pittsburgh."

She then handed Ellie a pair of binoculars, told her to watch the horizon, westerly. Ellie did as she was told.

The sun was hot. There were no clouds. The sky was big and blue, as a gem. She spotted a few plumes of smoke at the perimeter, but she didn't see Noah or Joel. If she couldn't see Joel, she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. All those explosions had sent her into an adrenaline-baked sort of panic, so that when Cici finally got Noah on the walkie, Ellie was so fucking relieved, she let go of the binoculars so that they thudded to the floor. She felt stupid, picked them up immediately, but then closed her eyes and felt an unexpected flood, again. Like she wanted to go home. Whatever that meant. But it was really powerful. She thought she might puke. She held it inside. “Holy shit,” she said.

“We’re okay,” said Noah over the walkie. “Infected ambushed us at the trench. But it’s done. Over.”

“Thank fucking god,” said Cici. “Me and Ellie got the scope on your location, just in case. Over.”

“Thanks,” said Noah. “I’m pretty sure they’re all fried. But they took the trench with them, and a bunch of the mines. We had to light up the rest with gasoline. The whole section is fucked up, even worse than before. Over.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Cici, hanging her head. “Okay. You boys just get back here. Over.”

“Okay."

Over.

Ellie watched then as Cici set down the walkie and leaned, slowly, against the rifle, almost struggling to keep her balance. She had her eyes pressed shut, as if praying. Her blond hair was braided over her shoulder, but the plaits were all loose now. “Fuck,” she said, in a whisper.

"They're okay," said Ellie.

But Cici was talking to herself then. Not in a crazy way, just a stressed way, almost like she had forgotten that Ellie was in the room. “I can’t do this anymore,” she was saying.

"That’s my fucking brother," he said.

She was not okay, in the radio tower.

"Screw it."

Ellie went over to Cici and placed her hand on Cici’s shoulder. She didn’t want to be standing there alone anymore, and the smell of the smoke was starting to waft in with the breeze.

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #tlou fanfic #ellie tlou #joel tlou #as you were #cw:#violence #new banner!!#pirated that font good and plenty #<3

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catharticboredom · 3 years

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This post was initially written however many months ago when the game was first out and I only came back to it now, so it’s probably all over the place and very rambly and may train of thought then might have been diff to now, but anyways these were/are just my general thoughts about how i would potentially rewrite TLOU2 to not be shit. Again it’s just more of my scattered thoughts so there is not much cohesion or structure, but whatever

I feel like revenge plots are so fucking stupid in the setting of a post-apocalyptic setting. Like unless you 100% know where the person you want to go is, why the fuck would you go across the country to a place where they may or may not be. Like I get “rEvEngE mAkEs yOu dO sTUpiD thINgs” but, this is obfuscatingly stupid, like as in shit writing. I’m pretty sure the reason they scrapped the “Tess ruthlessly tracks down Joel for revenge” storyline for the first game was bc they realized how stupid it was.

So what if it was like this: we see Ellie and Joel’s life more in Jackson, where we spend more time in it, similar to the segments where we see “everyday life” in the WLF camps. It is here where we would establish more of Dina and Ellie’s relationship + the trio’s (ie those two + Jesse) friendship. Maybe we get more of Joel and Tommy interacting with each other, where maybe things are still tense but they are mending their relationship. The museum scene doesn’t happen yet though.

The one scene where Ellie confronts Joel in the bar, maybe because she sees a dead Firefly, and then Joel gets caught in a lie or something, or his story doesn’t match up with what he said last time, or Joel starts acting guilty/strange. Maybe this is where the big fight between the two happens, maybe later, but anyways, Ellie decides to straight up leave town, or at least run away for a bit. Maybe Ellie goes home to pack her shit, and Dina, seeing how distraught Ellie is wondering what’s going on/is everything alright, but E is like “no I just gotta get out of this place (Jackson), I’m sorry”. Dina can then be like “okay babe, I’m with you no matter what.”

They go on a “vacation” of sorts, making the light-hearted moments a lot less out of place and not as tonally off. Ellie is still distant with Dina, but D doesn’t press her too much on it. Maybe Jesse wanted to follow the two of them to make sure they were safe, or maybe he overheard Joel saying the two had run off. More trio antics with no dumb love triangle. Maybe Jesse doesn’t show up at all, idk. Anyways, at one point, Ellie and Dina come across something/someone that triggers Ellie’s resentment of Joel re: the Fireflies incident, which leads her to do something reckless and so WLF/Seraphites/infected descend upon E and D. After the chaos (where E’s mask breaks similarly to how it is in the game), Dina demands Ellie tell the truth about her immunity and what went on at the FF hospital. There is tension between the two but they eventually make up, when Ellie admits she probably would have done the same for Joel, but still resents him for taking that choice away from her and lying to her all this time, and then Dina is like “the FF’s also took away your choice too, they didn’t even ask you before deciding to cut you open”.

Meanwhile Joel and Tommy are on a mission to bring E + D back home. Maybe they come across Abby, and she realizes who Joel is, and she says that she tried looking for him in Jackson but no one would say where he was, so she and the other former fireflies attacked the town. A brawl ensues or some shit but Abby manages to get away. Tommy and Joel race back to town to make sure everyone is okay. Tommy then chastises Joel for putting everyone in danger for his own actions, and he either kicks Joel out of town or says that he is out of town once Ellie comes back. Joel, realizing that he is now alone, angsts it up or something and goes after Ellie on his own. Tommy refused to go with him bc he is obviously mad, but maybe there is a shot of him watching J go, implying T may follow.

E + D come across Yara and Lev running from the Seraphites bc Yara did something drastic to save Lev. This can parallel Ellie and Joel’s conflict, bc maybe Lev doesn’t agree with what Yara did. Lev also does something drastic to save Yara, and Ellie realizes the lengths to which she would go to to protect the ones she loves.

Anyways Joel is on his little journey to find Ellie, and idk he gets into a kerfuffle which Tommy of all ppl saves him from. He has been following Joel the entire time or something, and is like “I still hate you but I also love you so I’ll help you this one last time”.

Eventually J + T and E+ D meet up (Yara and Lev have now set upfront on their own journey where neither dies anticlimactically or is deadamed repeatedly). Idk maybe Abby comes across them again and tries to kill them all, but Joel sacrifices himself to save them. In his final act of glory, he kills Abby and the other fireflies after them, to prevent them from ever coming after the town or Ellie (let’s say that the FFs hate Ellie too to make this more cohesive lol), but he is fatally wounded. As Joel dies to his injuries after his sacrifice, he apologizes to both Tommy and Ellie, and Ellie finally forgives him.

Then we cut to Ellie and Dina living happily together on their little farm. I forget if I said Dina was pregnant or not, but regardless they have a kid or some shit and Uncle Jesse pops in now and then. Tommy and Maria are living in Jackson running it, maybe they take in Yara and Lev idk. And it ends with Ellie playing that song Joel sang to her at the beginning of the game.

Basically instead of the game being about “HATE” it focuses on the direct consequences of Joel’s actions on his relationships with the ones he loves, instead of on new random characters like Abby.

#long post

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blackboard-monitor · 7 years

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Heavenbound, chapter 2

if you’re wondering, yes, i forgot i was posting these again.

2 THE UNICORN, THE WIZARD AND THE WORMHOLE

Once out of the house, Tessa found herself following Shakira through the nearby forest towards the nearby lake.* It was still dark, because it was Finland in November and the sun only bothered to show up for about four hours a day. The wet asphalt gleamed under the streetlights and the air smelled like snow.

‘Shouldn’t we wait for Argon?’ asked Tessa.

‘He’s an angel. I’m assuming he’ll find us,’ said Shakira, without stopping.

It wasn’t long before they heard the sirens behind them, lighting up the trees with flashing lights. Tessa tried to pretend she didn’t know what they meant.

They came to the lakeshore and Tessa sat down on a boulder.

‘I feel bad putting Mum and Dad through this,’ she said.

Shakira stretched out leisurely on the trunk of a fallen tree. ‘Why should you? You don’t even like them.’

‘I do like them. They just never really felt like my real parents, no more than Joel feels like my real brother,’ Tessa corrected.

It was true. All her life, Tessa had been nothing but normal, from the standard-sized family of four right down to her medium build and average-coloured hair. Yet still, she had always felt just slightly out of place. She could easily blend into a crowd, but never quite become a part of it. As long as she could remember, she had always had a feeling that it was all just an act, that somewhere out there, there was more.

And now I’m dead, she thought, only to realise that that really was it. That was all there was.

‘Joel’s a brat,’ said Shakira, interrupting Tessa’s thoughts. ‘He threw me in a puddle once.’

‘That’s was Joel?’ asked Tessa. ‘I always thought I’d just dropped you myself.’

‘Nope. It was Joel.’

‘Even then, I wouldn’t want this to happen to them, if I had the choice,’ Tessa said firmly.

‘Well you don’t,’ declared Shakira.

Tessa sighed. ‘You know what I don’t get?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Why would anyone want to murder me in the first place? Especially some random queen from some other dimension I’ve never even heard of?’ The question had been hovering in the back of her mind for a while now, jumping up and down and demanding her attention.

‘Doesn’t make much sense to me, either. On the other hand, whaddaya expect from someone called Random?’ Shakira replied.

‘Fair point.’

Tessa whirled so fast she very nearly fell off her boulder. Still, Shakira beat her to it. Before she had a chance to blink, the tiger was poised between her and the man who had spoken, hair bristled and teeth bared.

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ Shakira snarled.

‘Easy there, tiger,’ said the man. Tessa couldn’t help but laugh, though Shakira was clearly not amused.

‘Calm down, Shakira. I’m already dead. What’s the worst he can do?’ Tessa said.

Reluctantly, Shakira stepped back, unblocking Tessa’s view of the newcomer.

Making assumptions based on appearance was something Tessa generally tried to avoid, but she had her limits. From the tip of his wide-brimmed felt hat to the slightly muddy skirts of his purple robes, there was no way around it – the man was the definition of a wizard personified. Dark eyes peered at them from the covers of magnificently bushy eyebrows, and a brown, lined face crinkled into a smile.

‘Lovely morning, isn’t it?’ said the wizard.

‘The sun isn’t even up yet,’ grumbled Shakira.

‘Never mind about the sun, but it’s not very polite for you to say so, considering I’ve just died,’ Tessa pointed out.

‘You’re absolutely right,’ said the wizard. ‘My deepest condolences.’

‘Thanks,’ said Tessa with a nod. ‘So, you’re the wizard by quota on this quest thingy, then?’

The wizard chuckled.

‘Yes, I suppose you could call me that,’ he said and extended the hand that wasn’t grasping his wooden staff.

Tessa hopped off her rock to shake hands with him. ‘Tessa Jokinen. Nice to meet you, I guess.’

‘Garald the Great, at your service,’ the wizard introduced himself.

Shakira snorted. ‘Really? You address yourself as “the Great”?’

‘And what if I do? Everyone knows wizards must always be “the” something, and it’s an alliteration at least,’ Garald said defensively.

‘Fair enough,’ said Tessa.

‘Hold up a second,’ Shakira exclaimed. ‘You shook hands with her! How’d you do that? She’s all… ghosty.’

Garald grinned at the tiger. ‘Wizard, remember?’ he said cryptically and tapped the brim of his hat.

‘That’s the opposite of an answer,’ Shakira declared.

‘Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint. The trade secrets of wizardry are not for a soft toy to know,’ said Garald calmly.

‘Can everybody stop being so bloody… racist about this? I am what I am!’ Shakira hissed.

‘Um, guys?’ Tessa said quietly. She was aware of an argument happening around her, but her attention was drawn to something coming towards them along the coast line.

The quarrel continued as if the others couldn’t even hear her.

‘…no, you’re a drama queen!’

‘How could I be a drama queen? I’m not even a woman!’

‘Well I’m not even a human!’

‘Guys!’ Tessa shouted. ‘I know I’m sort of invisible, but you can still hear me, right?’

Shakira and Garald fell silent in mid-sentence and turned to her. Garald looked a little sheepish, but Shakira just flicked her tail and said, ‘What is it, Tess?’

‘Oh, nothing really. Just that there appears to be a unicorn over there and it’s closing in on us pretty quickly. Not that it’s even the strangest thing I’ve seen today, now that I think of it,’ Tessa said distantly, eyes still fixed on the approaching figure.

‘Ah, yes,’ said Garald, ‘that must be the steed Argon promised us.’

‘He most certainly is,’ said Argon, appearing right behind Tessa.

‘Jesus!’ she gasped.

‘Would everyone stop scaring her already?’ snapped Shakira.

‘Yeah, that would be nice’ said Tessa, pressing her hand to where her chest used to be. ‘I’d have probably had a heart attack just now if I wasn’t already dead.’

‘Sorry,’ said Argon, not sounding apologetic in the least. He handed Garald a pair of bulging backpacks. ‘You’ll have to carry both of these until Tessa is material again.’

‘What’s in these? Rocks?’ Garald asked, hauling one of the packs onto his back.

Argon didn’t have a chance to answer, because the unicorn had caught up with them.

‘Argon, Garald the Great, Shakira and Tessa Jokinen, I presume?’ it said, with a deep, melodious voice.

‘Everyone, meet Moonlight Ranger. Moonlight Ranger, meet everyone. I don’t have time for this,’ Argon said. He heaved a pair of saddle bags onto Moonlight Ranger’s back.

‘Hey!’ said the unicorn. ‘When did I ever agree to –‘

‘You didn’t,’ said Argon. ‘Now, off you go.’ He disappeared.

Garald straightened his back. ‘If I may lead the way.’

The wizard set off along the shore, picking out a little path into the forest where the beach ended. The rest of them followed, first the unicorn, then Shakira, and finally, after a moment of hesitation, Tessa.

As they made their way through the dewy underbrush, the world around them slowly became a little less black and a little more grey. By the increasing light, Tessa estimated it had to be past eight already. On any other Tuesday she would have been sitting in Swedish class at the moment, yet here she was, dead in the forest with a tiger, a unicorn and a wizard, and it was unlikely she would ever attend another Swedish class. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

After a while, Shakira said, ‘Is your name really Moonlight Ranger?’

‘Yes,’ the unicorn replied curtly.

‘Is that a mare name or a stallion name?’ the tiger continued.

‘Neither,’ Moonlight Ranger said. ‘Unicorn society does recognise the concept of gender.’

‘That’s weird,’ said Shakira without missing a beat. ‘Either way, your name is obnoxious. I’m going to call you Moonie,’ she announced.

The newly named Moonie huffed. ‘Suit yourself. But I do not think being named by a child after a scantily-dressed pop star is much better.’

Shakira fell silent, grumbling under her breath. Who knew that a unicorn could be so grumpy? thought Tessa.

The path they were on clung close to the shore and every once in a while Tessa caught a glimpse of the lake and the grey mists swirling over it through the trees. The ground beneath them was littered with roots and stones just waiting to twist your ankle, all covered in a slippery layer of dead leaves that filled the air with a wet, earthy smell. Tessa was floating more than walking and was unfazed by the terrain, but Garald appeared to be having trouble. He had to lean on Moonie every now and again to avoid slipping, which appeared to displease the unicorn.

Once again, it was Shakira who broke the silence. ‘Excuse me, Mr Wizard Guy, but would you might enlightening me and telling us where the hell we are going?’

Garald stopped and turned.

‘We’re lucky enough to be close to a wormhole that will take us in the right direction,’ he said, ‘it’s not much further.’

‘Whoah, whoah, whoah. A wormhole? Is that a thing?’ asked Shakira.

‘It is a thing,’ Tessa replied for Garald. She had read plenty on wormholes. ‘Wormholes, or places where the space-time continuum overlaps itself, so to speak, do exist. But although it’s theoretically possible to travel through them, it would take more energy than the Sun, so in practice it can’t be done.’

Garald looked impressed. ‘You sure have done your homework. But these are a different type of wormhole, actually. You’re right that it would be quite impossible for us to travel through your basic space-time continuum wormholes. However, the mechanism for travelling between alternate realities is another thing altogether,’ he explained, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tessa frowned. It sounded an awful lot like nonsense. ‘What mechanism is that?’

‘Magic,’ said Garald, grinning.

Tessa left it at that, because she felt like it was all she was going to get out of the wizard in any case. Besides, who was she to judge whether magic was an actual option or not? She was, after all, deceased, and in the company of a former stuffed animal who was now inexplicably alive. Magic didn’t seem all that implausible any more.

No more than five minutes later Garald called halt in a place that in the grey morning light looked no different than any of the places they had passed within the last half hour. They had gone up a small hill and on their left the trees gave way to a cliff, a sheer drop of several metres down to the lake. Apart from that, Tessa saw nothing remarkable.

‘This is it?’ asked Shakira, voicing Tessa’s thoughts. ‘There’s nothing here.’

‘Yes, there is,’ Garald assured them.

‘Listen very carefully and you will hear it. According to my knowledge, tigers have good hearing,’ said Moonie.

‘What does a horse with a stick in its head know about knowledge?’ huffed Shakira, but pricked up her ears anyway.

For a while all Tessa could hear was the wind whistling through the barren trees and the waves of the still unfrozen lake lapping softly over the rocks. Then Shakira gave a surprised squeal.

‘I can hear it!’

Tessa strained her ears. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

‘Of course you can’t,’ said Garald, ‘neither can I. We have human ears, our hearing is terribly weak compared to theirs. I’m not even sure we could hear that frequency at all, no matter how loud it was.’

‘Technically, I don’t have ears at all,’ Tessa pointed out.

‘It’s a sort of humming,’ said Shakira in wonder. ‘Is the wormhole making it?’

Moonie nodded. ‘It is.’

‘Now that that’s settled, we all ought to mount Moonlight Ranger,’ Garald ordered.

‘All of us?’ asked Tessa, not sure she’d heard him correctly with her non-existent human ears.

‘Isn’t that what I said? Yes, all of us. Me, you, the tiger and my hat,’ Garald replied cheerfully, and tapped the brim of said hat for good measure.

‘Does your hat count as a person?’ asked Shakira.

‘Of course it does. It’s my best and only friend,’ Garald declared.

‘But why on earth would we need to all climb on the same horse?’ Tessa inquired. ‘Isn’t that quite a lot for them to carry?’

‘That’s unicorn, not horse. And yes, yes it is,’ said Moonie pointedly.

‘Too bad, Moonie,’ Garald said.

‘You aren’t going to call me that as well, are you?’

‘Looks like I am. Anyway, you know as well as I that this wormhole business is why Argon chose you for this trip,’ Garald said.

‘Excuse me, would the two of you kindly explain what the hell we are talking about?’ snapped Shakira.

‘If you must know,’ said Garald, ‘these wormholes are quite like the ones Tessa described in one aspect. In the same way you would need massive quantities of energy to pass through a space-time wormhole, a great amount of magic is required for these wormholes to open. It is possible for me as a wizard to wield that kind of forces, but it’s very consuming and not without its risks. It’s rather complicated to explain to someone not trained in magic or higher mathematics, which, of course, are ultimately the same thing. Anyway, a much simpler way to deal with the issue is riding a unicorn. They have all that magic sort of built in,’ Garald explained.

‘Sounds like gibberish to me,’ Shakira announced.

‘Well, the important thing is that it works, regardless of how it works,’ said Garald with a shrug.

‘I agree,’ Tessa confirmed. ‘Let’s get going, shall we?’

‘We shall. Let us get this over with,’ said Moonie, kneeling so it would be easier to climb onto their back. Shakira promptly hopped onto their rump.

‘Ow!’ cried Moonie. ‘Keep your claws retracted, please!’

‘Force of habit,’ said Shakira sweetly.

‘What habit? You were a soft toy until this morning,’ Moonie protested.

Garald hauled himself onto the unicorn’s back as well, and Tessa took her place between him and Shakira. She wasn’t really riding on Moonie’s back as much as she was floating slightly above it, but she assumed it didn’t make much of a difference.

Moonie climbed to his feet. ‘Is everyone ready?’

‘As ready as we’ll ever be,’ said Garald.

Moonie took a few short steps back – and leapt forward off the edge of the cliff.

It was a moment, Tessa felt, that should have happened in slow motion. Moonie glided silently through the air in a perfect arch, diving towards the grey waves of the lake, while Shakira and Garald hung on for dear life, and Tessa, having already lost hers, just floated along. They were swallowed into the mist just as the tips of Moonies hooves touched the water and a quiet ripple ran across the lake.

That second lasted just slightly longer than it should have and then it was washed away by a blinding flash of white. For a moment Tessa saw nothing but brightness flickering in all the colours of rainbow. The sound of the air rushing past them and the familiar smell of the forest were washed away by the light, and everything was perfectly still.

Not really knowing why, Tessa smiled.

‘What the heck?’ whispered Shakira.

Then the world returned with a deafening whoosh.

_______________________________________________________________________*In Finland there’s always a nearby forest and a nearby lake.

#heavenbound #written

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